How to Make Your Best Work

There’s a process to making your best work happen.

Before we can go into our best work, we need to set ourselves up for success. 

What’s the room like? Is it quiet? Loud? Are the curtains drawn? Is it a certain time of day? Do you need coffee? Is it before breakfast or after dinner? 

What’s the routine like? 

And if you can do it once, can you do it again and again? 

Sharing Ugly Work as a Designer Feels Like A Sin

Here’s why.

We’ve been conditioned to believe that we must only put our best work forward when it comes to showing up to the public (aka social media).

If it’s not pixel-picture-dropdead perfect, then it shouldn’t live on our grid.

Our lives on social media must be hyper curated to a specific aesthetic.

To that, I say, wrong.

We’re all bound to create something ugly once in a while, whether we like it or not.

This is the natural way of things as a creative professional.

Sharing ugly work as a designer shouldn’t feel bad.

We should get chances to explore, learn, and create for the fun of it instead of for somebody else’s opinion of us. 

So I’ll leave with this. 

Go against every bone in your body that tells you to hide from your less-than-great pieces of work.

Instead, share it.

See what happens.

I promise you it won’t be as bad as you make it out to be in your own head.

It’s 2AM In Toronto and I’m Writing A Post About Taking Your Creativity Seriously

How did we get here?

2 years ago, I told myself something.

I told myself that writing was something I wanted to get better at. Not any specific sort of writing, but simply the practice of writing as a way to communicate.

I made a promise to myself.

That promise is this. 

As a way of taking my own creativity seriously, I will write something meaningful every day. It doesn’t matter if it’s good or bad. What matters is that I just write. 

That was 2 years ago.

Somewhere along the way I decided to share my writing on social media, just to see what would happen.

Now that it’s a part of my daily routine, I can’t go without writing a short blog post.

It’s become therapy.

I’ve successfully kept my own promise, but it took a long time to form as a habit.

If you’re looking to start a creative commitment of your own, I highly recommend a simple daily visit to your craft. 

Why Bother Going the Extra 1%?

Why bother trying your best, even though those who aren’t doing their best around you are getting the same, if not better, results? 

Why bother smiling (or try to seem friendly) at a customer service job, even when the girl next to you doesn’t and gets paid the same if not more? 

Does it matter that your clients don’t know you’re not giving it your all for their big commission? 

Is it important to care about the little pieces of user experience that string together something much bigger?

Why bother?

Who cares?

Turns out that someone who does care will take notice. And if you care to be just a bit better, those efforts will be noticed as well. 

What Progress Looks Like When You’re A Freelancer

On a day by day basis, it might seem like nothing has changed. Nothing has grown, no new momentum has been set in motion, even if you’ve been working on something for a few days.

The thing is, progress isn’t always something you can see or track.

Progress can be invisible.

Most important of all, progress needs time. 

Don’t feel bad if you don’t have anything to show after 2 weeks of hard work. 

Progress isn’t always obvious. 

The Secret to Good Content

For every dozen pieces of content I create for our restaurant, one or two perform a little better than the rest. 

I’ve learned that is the secret to creating good content. 

Good content isn’t about how nice your camera is. It’s not even about how much time and effort you put into making your nice video.

Good content is about connecting with your viewers, and doing it again and again.

Read This If You’re Waiting For the Right Moment

Last month I caught myself. 

I was waiting for the right moment to start a project for our restaurant. 

Weeks passed by. 

I waited.

I was looking for a slow period where I could direct my attention into this new project.

Only this moment never came. 

I don’t see it coming in the foreseeable future either now that I think about it.

Through this, I realized something.

The right moment doesn’t exist. 


You’ll never end up feeling fully ready at the starting line. 

Don’t wait for the perfect moment.

Don’t wait until you have your hypothetical game plan laid out (unless you’re a doctor, engineer, or in a profession where other people’s livelihood depends on you). 

The right moment will almost never come. 

Especially if you’re waiting for it.

You’ll just have to take a deep breath and go.