M74 Spiral Galaxy photo by Simon Dye (Cardiff University) overlaid with Shri Yantra Mandala.

Humanity’s search for knowledge, in its many forms, has always fascinated me. Spanning geographies, cultures, faiths, and generations, the enduring pursuit of truth and insight into the diverse realms of human experience has yielded some of the greatest works of science and art — from the sequencing of the human genome to Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel ceiling. Each school of thought or path of study carries its own distinct challenges, “great questions” and intellectual rewards, but it is the same mind that is driven to find answers.

Several months ago, I had read a New York Times article about Carl Jung’s Red Book, a hauntingly personal collection of writings and paintings exploring the depths of his unconscious. Despite the little knowledge I have of Jung’s work (I admit), I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to see this long-lost treasure up close at the Rubin Museum of Art. When I finally made it to the museum over Christmas vacation, I decided to start at the top floor and take a quick walk through the other exhibits first, saving the “best” for last on the bottom floor (surely, I thought, some trippy mandala paintings and multi-limbed Hindu deity sculptures couldn’t hold my attention for very long, fascinating though they may be).

I was quickly proven wrong.

Almost every exhibit blew me away, but one resonated with me the strongest: “Visions of the Cosmos: From the Milky Ocean to an Evolving Universe,” up until May 10, 2010. Here’s a Flickr photo set of the exhibit.

While perspectives shifted greatly from spiritual to conjectural to empirical, the quality of execution and level of diligence in constructing coherent visual narratives were remarkably on par across all works. Metaphor and symbolism were as vital as brush and ink in depicting Buddhist and Hindu cosmologies; the artists behind these works employed the tools of design to depict the interrelationships between physical and ethereal planes with such compelling clarity as to affirm their reality. Turning to the early Western astronomers, meticulous drawings of their observations with the naked eye and with simple telescopes helped demystify the heavens and bring humankind’s grasp of the world beyond Earth within reach, religious controversy aside.

Rounding out the survey of astronomical study was a series of typically dazzling photographs of distant nebulae and galaxies marking our present level of achievement. A projected Powers of 10-style video of The Known Universe flaunted the astonishing accuracy with which we now claim to know the universe and our place in it. On the same wall as the projection but directly above was a giant mandala painting (part of the exhibit “Mandala: The Perfect Circle”). I don’t know if the juxtaposition on the same wall was intentional, but graphically and thematically, the two images made perfect sense together.

Reflecting back on that day, I realized that it is the same quest for knowing that links the devotional artist, the scientist, and the modern information designer. The content, the context, and the methods may be different, but all of these individuals share the same purpose: to model reality — be it physical, spiritual, or otherwise — for human understanding and enlightenment. (Even Jung, in working through his inner turmoil, used art and writing to make sense of what he experienced. Psychological information design?)

Today, the skill of modeling reality has been professionalized into many discrete roles, including information designer, infographic illustrator, data visualization expert, CG artist, et cetera. Technology continues to enhance our understanding of the world and expand the means by which we can communicate. Slowly, what our brains actually do is still evolving: how we perceive what is and conceive of what could be, as well as how we construct understanding. I wonder what a “Visions of the Cosmos” exhibit might look like in 50, 100, or 1,000 years from now. What new models will we create? What new understanding will we reach? What will our universe look like then? Will it still be a “universe”?

(Along the lines of how we know what we know, the Rubin Museum of Art is running a pretty amazing event series called Brainwave 2010. I wish I could attend every session!)

Back in 1999, when I began my career as a graphic designer, I really had very little idea of what I was in for. Sure, there were plenty of glimpses into the field from classes, design lectures, books, magazine articles, and conversations with professional designers, but nothing ever spelled out what it was like to be a designer. Internships, while helpful, offered only a brief taste of real design work. The only of way of truly knowing and understanding design was to dive in and do it.

Now, as 2009 draws to a close, I look back on my career with some sense of accomplishment. There is much I have yet to learn, many more challenges to overcome. So, for those who may be embarking on their own journey as designers or whose careers may already be underway, I present the following top 10 learnings in 10 years:

1. Design is a service, above all. – Contrary to popular design press, professional design work isn’t about pure self-expression or self-gratification. Nor is it about executing orders just to please a client. It’s about understanding clients’ problems and devoting serious time and effort to solving them — “creating value” for them and their customers (apologies for the cliché). Good service is the foundation upon which rewarding long-term relationships are built. Of course, recognition and praise are always welcome outcomes of the process.
2. Design is a business, like any other. – The toughest lessons to learn about design revolve around business: contracts, finances, client relations, hiring, et cetera. Regardless of your role, being knowledgeable in the business side of design helps you work smarter and handle many on-the-job challenges with the big picture in mind. In the later stages of your design career, business savvy pays off huge dividends, so it’s never too early to start learning.
3. Clients aren’t the problem. Misunderstandings are. – All too often, well-intentioned designers and clients end up at each other’s throats over easily-avoidable mistakes. Assumptions, misinterpretations, and other communication gaps can quickly grow into giant chasms as clarity and common grounding are sacrificed for expediency or “efficiency.” Communication skills are critical in all aspects of design work and life in general. As Steven R. Covey states in Habit 5 of The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People: “Seek First to Understand, Then to be Understood.”
4. Creativity is more important than craft. – I like experimenting with software and cool “designy” effects as much as anyone, but I came to recognize early on that the capabilities design programs offer can actually constrain the depth and quality of solutions you develop. Proportionally speaking, getting to the core of a problem and generating solutions should occupy no less than half your time, and should involve generous amounts of investigation, exploration, sketching, rough prototyping, modeling, and experimentation. Simply put: invest in process before product.
5. Be fast. Be good. But don’t be cheap unless it’s for a good cause. – Design work should be based on an agreement that is fair to both designer and client, a “value for value” exchange. However, a designer must be careful to maintain the balance between work expended and profit received. Making accurate project estimates is critical, as is constant communication with a client over the course of a project as time and budget are spent. When deciding on nonprofit clients and/or pro bono work, weigh the benefits and potential positive outcomes against the resources you’ll need to devote to the work.
6. Back up every design decision you make with sound reasoning. – Design solutions don’t sell themselves; make sure everything from the high-level concept down to the finishing techniques you choose link together seamlessly. “Because it looks cool” or “because I like it” aren’t valid justifications for the choices you make.
7. The devil is in the details. – Whether it’s the final files you’re sending to the printer, the e-mail you’re drafting to a client at a critical point in a project, or a big design presentation to win an account, you must vigilantly mind the details. Failure to do so (especially under a tight deadline or in the late evening hours) can be costly, both financially and professionally. Leave time for revision, and try to enlist the help of a fresh pair of eyes to cover your blind spots.
8. Maintain professionalism at all times. – It may seem like a given in a field like design, but it’s astonishing how often professionalism is disregarded by designers, especially those just starting out. It spans everything from e-mails and written communication to telephone demeanor and face-to-face interactions. Professional conduct is less about being impersonal and stiff than it is about respectfulness, sincerity, and consideration in all business contexts. That means biting one’s tongue in the face of criticism, keeping a cool head under stress, and not letting conversations get too personal or casual with clients. We’re all human, but we should be mindful of the boundaries that define our role as designers.
9. You never stop paying your dues. – I still have a hard time with this one, but I’m slowly coming to terms. At every stage in one’s career, there’s always a new challenge or obstacle to overcome: long hours to be logged, tight deadlines to meet, sensitive situations to defuse, new fires to put out. Waiting for the day when you can kick your feet up and reap the rewards of your success can ultimately lead to frustration. If you’re lucky enough to achieve such rare success in design, then congratulations. The best the rest of us can do is to persevere. Sometimes the payoff comes in ways you don’t expect.
10. Broaden your horizons outside of design. – It’s a common trap to fall into: having lots of designer friends, going to design events, reading design magazines and websites, and doing mostly design-related things. A solid diet of design can quickly lead to staleness. Being a designer means participating in the world at large and pursuing diverse interests. By absorbing a range of experiences, you deepen your cultural savvy, broaden your visual vocabulary, and can carry more interesting conversations at design events.

Looking ahead, I’m not sure what the next 10 years will bring, but I’m trying to be optimistic. The economy may continue to expand and contract, markets may emerge and vanish, and the design profession itself may continue to evolve through it all, but some lessons will probably always hold true.