Exile Lifestyle

by Colin Wright

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Scrivener Iceland India Interstate
Posted on June 17, 2013 by Colin

Writing the Words

I never thought I would write for a living. I spent some time when I was younger cobbling together news analysis pieces for a few newspapers, and I went through a period where I wrote a lot of poetry and solemn lyrics, performed on guitar at coffee shops in front of uninterested audiences, but I never saw it as anything more than a hobby. Something I did alongside my real craft. Something I did for fun.

Of course, it’s still something I do for fun, but there’s a lot more to it than that these days. Today I write books, I write dispatches to subscribers (paid and otherwise), I write one sheets and press releases for my work and the work of other amazing authors I’m fortunate enough to work with. The more I write, the more words I feel like I have available to me, and all I have to do is make sure they’re delivered in the proper order.

Depending on the platform, that order can be vastly different. In Exiles, a paid dispatch that I publish every two weeks, I write about personal revelations and experiences I have while traveling, working on businessy things, or that simply come to mind while ruminating about the past or future. In Let’s Know Things, I draw upon my news analyzing past and discuss current topics of note, doing my best to put them in context as concisely as possible. In my free newsletter, I share project- and lifestyle-related items of note, along with a short essay to tie the items together. Here on Exile Lifestyle, I present my more well-honed essays — pieces that I think will be shareable and quotable for folks to chew on. And in my books, I share my thoughts on philosophy and tell stories — some real and some fictional.

I’ve recently implemented a redesign of the site, and it will continue to evolve in little ways in the coming weeks, but this is essentially the look I’ve been wanting to present. The content is (quite literally) central, with a no-nonsense navigation on the left, and other ways to connect with me on the right. Also on the right side is another type of publishing I engage in — my Twitter feed is where I share the interesting tidbits from around the web, so you can follow me there or on my Facebook page to keep up with what I’m intellectually ingesting at any given time.

I’m going to be experimenting with bringing snippets of work from the various platforms listed above to this central site, as well. That will mean an essay from Exiles (out of the five I publish to subscribers every two weeks), or a particularly well-received news analysis piece from Let’s Know Things. I’ll share updates from the newsletter, and excerpts from my books, too.

Like everything I do, this redesign is a work in progress, and I’d love to hear your feedback. Thank you so much for helping me do what I do — putting the words where I think they should go, and presenting them to you.

map
Posted on June 5, 2013 by Colin

Opportunity Costs

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Every choice you make means millions of paths not taken. Big or small, your decisions ripple outward, impacting everything else you do. What’s more, the opportunities and experiences you leave behind in favor of others have a sort of impact, as well: by not coming to fruition, they become ‘what if’s’ and ‘could have beens.’ It’s amazing how much non-events can sway actual ones.

I like to imagine what might have happened, had I made different choices than I ended up making. If I’d stuck with painting rather than becoming a designer. If I’d stubbornly clung to my first business, rather than shuttering it to focus on new projects. If I’d continued dating someone after it was clear we needed to bring our relationship to a close. Et cetera.

This kind of extrapolation is a wonderful mental exercise, and it can help you make well thought out decisions in the future. Rather than basing your choices purely on momentary concerns, you become more adept at thinking about the repercussions of each option and adding that figure to the sums of any other equations you might take into consideration. It’s impossible to know whether or not this actually leads to better decisions, but it certainly doesn’t seem to hurt.

Every choice you make means millions of paths not taken, but that doesn’t mean you can’t meander from path to path a bit, checking out the scenery and peeking over hills, getting a sense of the area before choosing which way to walk. Hell, you can even saunter down one path and then carve your way through the trees to find another, if you like. Opportunity costs mean you choose one direction over another, but it doesn’t mean you stay that course forever. Some of the best routes — the most efficient, or scenic, or the ones that will give you the best workout — are actually made up of many different foot paths, trails, and paved roads.

There’s no map that tells you exactly which direction to go, or when, but if you get comfortable weaving between the well-worn and the untread, you can draw your own map and share it with the world, making someone else’s costs more bearable, and your own well-spent.

Art or money
Posted on May 21, 2013 by Colin

Bootstrapping Art

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I’ve always wanted to do creative work. From the moment I could hold a crayon, I was lost to the artsy lifestyle.

Unfortunately, it’s not always easy to gain support for your work. Especially in the beginning, it’s an uphill climb. It may be that no one else will ever appreciate your creations the way you do; not even enough to help you pay for the time and materials required to create them.

This shouldn’t be an excuse to quit doing what you love. You’ll just have to borrow an idea from the world of business and bootstrap your art.

Bootstrapping, in the entrepreneurial sense, means paying your own way. Rather than seeking out investors to help you build your company, you fund it out of pocket or through some other self-produced venture. You pull yourself up by your bootstraps and make it work.

Many artists are already familiar with this concept, even if the term is unfamiliar. I can’t tell you how many brilliant painters and sculptors and poets I know who pay their rent by bagging groceries and waiting tables. And there’s nothing wrong with that, but consider that the ideal bootstrapping job allows you to gain not just money from your wage-paying efforts, but also experience, connections, and skills you can bring back to your craft.

I did this in college, and in my case it meant working at a print shop as I made my way through design school. Learning that side of the industry helped me immensely in doing printed work for clients, and more immediately, saved me hundreds of dollars in print supplies for class work. I also took a job as a software specialist, which required me to know a whole lot about the software I was using in class, and for client work. Finally, I took two design jobs: one for a glossy magazine, and one with the interactive telecourse development wing of my university. Both taught me to appreciate different angles of the design field (even the ones I didn’t particularly care for, or want to go into), and both helped me learn to deal with clients and pick up new skills quickly.

All four jobs also allowed me to pay my rent, of course. The above benefits were really just pleasant side-effects.

And that’s the kind of work you want to look for, when bootstrapping your art. Work that will earn you enough to continue fighting the good fight for your craft, but which will also help you build up secondary skills that may one day contribute to your creative fulfillment.

So many of us want to do creative work, but are unable to because of the unfortunate financial realities we’re born and guided into. Bootstrapping is one way to achieve the best of both the monetary and artistic worlds, without having to sell out one for the other.

harmonious independence
Posted on May 8, 2013 by Colin

Harmonious Independence

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It’s said that if you want a relationship to succeed — to last — you have to make sacrifices.

I strongly disagree.

It’s important to bend when dealing with other people on any level, sure, but that doesn’t mean you should break. If you have to give up what’s important to you in order to be with someone else, it’s very possible you’re with the wrong person. This applies to business relationships, friendships, and more-than-friendships equally. Why on earth would you want to give up what makes you, you, in order to be with someone? And why would you want anyone else to do the same?

There’s a phrase I use to describe what I look for in relationships: harmonious independence. It means that you are you, with or without anyone else. You are complete.

At the same time, your independent spirit plays well with others. You don’t expect anyone else to give up what makes them happy in order to be in your life, nor would you want them to expect it of you. Instead, you support each other in all things. Their personality traits, goals, idiosyncrasies, and other relationships are the reason you want them in your life.

Each of you being whole, independent people is what makes the relationship worthwhile in the first place. You have your own lives, but you meet in the middle because you want to. Your completeness supports their completeness and allows you to become an even better version of yourself in the exchange. As a result, you can be tied as loosely or closely as makes sense for your situation — in either case, you contribute to each other’s lives in a positive way.

A relationship worth having does not require you to be anyone but the best possible version of yourself.

coffee
Posted on April 24, 2013 by Colin

Coffee

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I decided to start drinking coffee the other day. I don’t like coffee.

It’s not that I can’t appreciate the drink and what it represents culturally. Coffee is thought to have been a major boon to the Industrial Revolution (if not the fuel for it), and the smell is lovely. Coffee shop culture is appealing to me, and most everyone I know who does good work has one coffee minimum per day.

That being said, I grew up working at a bookstore with an espresso bar. From age 14 until 19, I saw regulars come in with the coffee twitches, recovering from their last cup, but still needing an additional buzz. Wanting to kick the caffeine withdrawal they were still experiencing from not having a boost all night long.

I like caffeine, and though I think we’ll learn a lot more about it in the coming years — good and bad — at the moment I like having it in my life to some degree or another. I’ve experimented with it quite a bit — cutting it out of my life completely, upping my dosage to not-quite-dangerous levels, and meandering between the two extremes — and have determined that while I can very happily live without any of it at all, I do benefit from a cup of something energy-laced here and there. For several years I filled this void with energy drinks (as part of some brand research I was doing at first, and then out of laziness), and once those started to make me feel sick I would bump back to tea, sipping down numerous cups a day to ease myself down from the high that the Red Bulls of the world would kick me into.

Coffee, however, occupies a nice space between ‘too intense and unhealthy’ and ‘not intense enough and slightly difficult to come by.’ It also doesn’t set off my bullshit detectors like the energy drink industry does, with all their wild claims and superfluous pseudo-vitamins.

I don’t care for coffee, but that’s part of why it’s perfect for me right now.

Many years ago — back in my college days — I didn’t really like wine, so I avoided it almost completely. It took meeting people with an enthusiasm for the drink to break me out of that shell, and now I have a real appreciation for it. The same was true with beer. And whiskey.

And like the aforementioned alcoholic beverages, I want coffee to fill a role in my life where it’s not something I sit around and crave, but rather a nice addition to an already complete life. I don’t need addictions — in fact, my personality doesn’t allow me to have them — but I do enjoy a proper lifestyle accessory, so long as it pulls its own weight and doesn’t hinder me in any way. Coffee is relatively cheap, easily attained, and can give me a kick of caffeine when I want it. Perfect.

This is why I’m taking the time to drink coffee, despite my distaste for it. I’ve found over the years that even though I may never really like something, I can at least appreciate and make use of it, with enough practice and the right attitude. So long as the thing you’re exploring isn’t truly dangerous — I wouldn’t recommend, say, making the time to appreciate heroine — this is an attitude that can only increase your range of experience, rather than limiting it.

New experiences are key to a fulfilled, well-rounded life. So long as you avoid absolutes — and addictions are one type of absolute worth removing from your life — anything can become an asset. All you have to do is look for the good in the bitter.

Colin Wright turns 28
Posted on April 16, 2013 by Colin

28 and 4 Years Later

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Today is my 28th birthday, and I couldn’t decide whether to write something touching and meaningful, do some kind of list of things that I’ve learned over the years, or talk about how this project has evolved in that time. So I opted to do all three.

I started Exile Lifestyle about 4 years ago — April 19, 2009 — and if you look back at my earliest posts, they’re pretty rough. My voice hadn’t really developed and I spent a lot of time those first months trying to figure out where my sweet spot was — what I could write about that would set me apart, and which other people would care to read.

I was also trying to figure out what role this blog would play in my life. I knew I was about to undergo some drastic changes, and was just coming back from a very important trip, during which my wonderful ex and I decided to throw a breakup party 4 months in the future, completely upending our lives and hopefully finding paths that were a better fit for each of us. It wasn’t an easy moment, but it was pregnant with possibility, and as a result it was easier to ignore the difficulties than it would have been otherwise. As I dove deeper into the blogging scene, the friends that I made there, and the things they were talking about, made looking past the discomfort of the present toward the bright lights of the future a million times easier. I’m incredibly grateful for that.

I’m also grateful for all the people I’ve met since those early days — the people who send me emails to say thanks or just to introduce themselves. Those who engage in discussion on my Facebook page, respond to the stuff I post on Twitter, or pick up copies of the books I write. The folks I’ve been fortunate enough to meet in person along the way, whether in coffee shops, at book tour stops, out on the town for a beer, or because they’ve invited me into their homes (or welcomed me to their country). It’s difficult to express how much impact you’ve all had on my life, and just how positive that impact has been. Thank you. Thank you thank you thank you.

The result of all the experiences I’ve had, places I’ve visited, and people I’ve met in the past 28 years — the last 4 especially — is that I’m a little less ignorant of the world around me and ever more aware of just how much I still have left to learn. The resulting ‘enlightened humility’ is something that allows me to continue to grow, despite a burgeoning confidence that stems from all the failures and successes I’ve been fortunate enough to have. Looking at the world and realizing just how small I am — but also knowing that it’s within my power to grow by increasing my knowledge, having a positive impact on others, and producing value when possible — is an incredible feeling, and a significant part of why each day seems better than the last.

It’s also been heartening to learn that we’re all essentially the same no matter where you go. We may have different backgrounds — different genetic traits and experiences that shape our personalities and the specifics of our desires — but we’re all human, and with extremely few exceptions, we’re all damn good people, when we have the opportunity to be. This should not be overlooked or overshadowed by all the tiny little details that don’t sync up, but which we unfortunately tend to focus on over the core structures we all share.

I could ramble on about this for a long time, so I’m going to stop there and simply say this: I’ve been fortunate to have a very good life. I’ve got a great family, amazing friends, thoughtful readers, and I’m able to do the work I love while surrounding myself with the people I want to have around, both physically and electronically.

Thank you so much for the role you’ve played in that happiness.

Wingtips on sidewalk
Posted on April 5, 2013 by Colin

Social Contracts

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As I walk along the sidewalk, I can afford to daydream.

I’m able to do this partially because of laws that say cars can’t drive on sidewalks, but also because we — as citizens of countries with governments that have traditions and folkways — have common goals that are best achieved by doing what we can to avoid harming each other.

This social contract is never officially signed, but it’s very real. Every time we stop at a red light or stand in a queue — despite there being no law-enforment official there to lock us up if we don’t — we’re adhering to mutually beneficial standards of operation. If I do X, other people will also do X, and Y (the consequences of not doing X) will not be something we have to worry about.

In the above example, I can walk down a sidewalk because everyone in this country has agreed that we won’t drive our cars on them. By restricting our actions in one sense, we free ourselves in another. Such is the nature of good laws and good social contracts.

Unfortunately, there are circumstances where these contracts subtract more than they add to our lives, or subtract freedoms for one portion of the population so that another portion will gain. Those who prefer to drive on sidewalks obviously lose out in the above example, and those who enjoy hunting suffer when national parks are made off-limits for sport. In the tradeoff, though, pedestrians gain and so do the animals who might otherwise be shot and eaten.

None of us sign a contract that brings us into the cultural and governmental fold. None of us are given the option to support some laws and not others, because doing so would reduce the positive consequences of those laws — of those social contracts we have with each other. Like religion or accents, we tend to pick them up at a young age, before we know the difference and that there are, in fact, other ways of worshipping or speaking or organizing society.

It’s interesting to see at what point different people will stand up and declare that something is fishy in government. That something being done is not right, and that they intend to break the law as an act of protest, or to enjoy a freedom that was taken away.

We love protesting in the US, and though a raised voice may not accomplish anything, the act itself seems to be quite therapeutic for those involved. Elsewhere, protests are less common, but more effective — when it happens, it’s serious, as those involved stand to lose a great deal for their disruption of the status quo.

There are a lot of decisions made by politicians and the lobbyists who pull their strings that I don’t agree with, but in most cases it’s still worth my effort to adhere to those rules when possible. Not because I believe in them, but because taking a stand on every little thing reduces the impact of my words. If I were to raise a rallying cry over every travesty the government commits, not only would I shout myself hoarse, but the people who listened to me initially would soon tire of my voice.

Much better — I feel — to save my shouts for core issues vital to my long-term happiness. I have a policy to obey the law most of the time. Doing so allows me to continue walking down the sidewalk, daydreaming, while also allowing me to save my voice for when it’s most desperately needed.

printingpress_small
Posted on March 5, 2013 by Colin

Design is a Passport

Design, to me, is a way of looking at the world.

It’s often said that good design is invisible — that it presents the intended message without calling attention to itself — but to a designer, it’s that so-called invisible design that gives you the biggest thrill. Seeing creative work done well is a distinct pleasure.

Design isn’t invisible and it isn’t flamboyant: it’s exactly what you need it to be in a given moment. It’s art, it’s math, it’s discipline, it’s chaos. Depending on the goal, design can be black or white or red or transparent. The shape it takes is determined completely by the purpose it was created for, and without someone there to shape it, design doesn’t exist.

Of course, learning to shape such things can take time. It took me four years of school, plus another eight working as a professional designer to get where I am today, and I’ve still got plenty left to learn. In fact, there will always be a new horizon to chase, because there will always be new tools to try, concepts to master, and boundaries to push.

Design is a way of looking at the world, but it’s also a passport for crossing the borders between professions.  By nature, designers tend to be multi-disciplinarians, and as such can hop from career to career, making use of their creative talent while acquiring new skill sets.

From college onward I’ve been a painter, a journalist, a print shop specialist, a software technician, a photo retoucher, a magazine publisher, a protest ‘zine creator, a photographer, a web developer, a motion graphics designer, a UI specialist, a creative director, an entrepreneur, an author, and the co-founder of a publishing company. In each and every case, the basic, foundational skills I’ve learned as a designer have helped me do the work and have increased my options along the way.

There are as many ways to train yourself in design (and other incredibly versatile skills) as there are people. Taking the traditional route (as I did) is a good, if expensive, option, though I would recommend working jobs in your field alongside classes (again, as I did) to supplement your philosophy with practical experience.

You can also come up with your own coursework making use of cheap and free resources online. There are myriad great books, videos, and blogs on the topic — take some time to peruse them and walk through the tutorials, and you may find yourself with a new, very versatile set of skills you can bring to bear within a few months. These options are also quite useful for their a la carte tutorials when you need to pick up a very specific skill or proficiency that you’ve never needed to learn before.

Another option would be to take a class like the one I’ll be teaching in May, called Intro to Design for Publishing.

You can learn more by clicking the link above, but in short it’s a four-week class through which I’ll be teaching students the fundamentals of design, especially as it applies to publishing.

There will be a lot of information, a good deal of homework, and a frightening amount of critique (by me, but also student-to-student). Each student will also learn the basics of Photoshop and Illustrator, with the end-goal of having all the knowledge necessary to do their own work and find new information on their own when they need it.

This class isn’t for everyone — you’ll have to really want to make use of the information, and if you aren’t willing to put in the work, I’d prefer you didn’t sign up.

I’m hoping it also goes without saying that there’s absolutely no pressure to sign up for this class, or to purchase anything I have available for sale — this blog is and will remain free, so please enjoy the work I publish here either way!

There are a very limited number of seats in the class, however, and about half are already filled as I publish this (advance notice was given to folks who are subscribed to my free newsletter, and those who subscribe to Exiles), so if you’re interested, it’s best to sign up posthaste.

If you have any questions about the Intro to Design for Publishing class, or just want to say hi, shoot me an email.

Thanks folks!

titles_small
Posted on March 4, 2013 by Colin

Intentional Titles

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Many “minimalists” own very little because they don’t have the money to own more. Given the opportunity, they might go on a spending spree, or they might stay minimal. There’s no way of knowing, because the option isn’t available to them.

It’s not that this application of minimalism is a bad choice — it’s more that it isn’t a choice at all. An accidental minimalist is still a minimalist, but not in the same sense as someone who owns a yacht and decides to ditch it to live in a cabin. Calling an impoverished person living in a third world country a minimalist is like calling someone who’s never heard of meat a vegetarian: without the philosophy behind the label, the label loses its validity. It’s more of an unavoidable reality than a philosophy — a default state that requires a different title, or no title at all.

When you do something, you should do it consciously. If you decide to stop eating meat, you should do it because you choose to — because you’ve thought out the pros and cons and weighed the decision carefully — rather than being forced into it due to outside conditions beyond your control.

With no options, there’s no decision. With no decision, there’s no purpose. With no purpose, there’s less chance you’ll be changing for the better.

It’s not just what you do that matters — it’s why you do it. A positive act performed accidentally is far less valuable than one performed intentionally because you may not be able to replicate it or glean all you can from the experience.

Take the time to figure out where you are and where you want to be, and act accordingly. Paddle — don’t just float and call yourself a swimmer.

shadow_small
Posted on February 25, 2013 by Colin

Afraid of Fear

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There was a time in my life when most things scared me.

Dentists. Cars. Weather. The dark. Ghosts.

I would go to sleep each night and pray to whatever gods or spirits might be listening, asking them to protect me until I woke up. At that point — I imagined — I would be alert enough to start worrying again, giving me some kind of will-powered protection against the supposed threats I spent a great deal of my time fixated on.

It’s possible to get over fears, though I’m not going to tell you that there’s nothing in the world that sets my teeth on edge anymore. I’m still afraid of things like failure and death and being mutilated by wild animals or malfunctioning heavy machinery. But one of the more significant evolutions I’ve undergone in the past decade or so is that I’m no longer afraid of fear. Or to put it another way: simply being afraid of something does not deter me from doing it.

In fact, I’ve found a lot of value in pursuing the very things that scare me initially. This serves the double-purpose of reiterating to myself that fear can be a silly reflex, not an absolute judgement of how dangerous something is, while also allowing me to destroy potential ceilings I might cover myself with before they have the chance to form. The latent benefit of chasing down your fears and proving them harmless is that you expose yourself to people and places and experiences you wouldn’t otherwise encounter. This makes you a far more well-rounded person, and allows you to see the world from many different angles.

I’m not saying you should ignore your instincts and jump into a pit of hungry lions. I am saying you should question your instincts and make sure a more primal part of your brain — shaped by genetics and your upbringing and biases — isn’t leading you astray and keeping you from living your life for fear of what could go wrong.

Only by testing our limits can we know how far we’re able to go, and only by shoving fear out of the way are we able to see that it’s just a shadow making scary shapes on the wall, not an actual monster.

 

Note: I’ve recently faced a handful of my own fears (staying in one place, building businesses that take more than one person to run, living with other people in cumbersomely large homes) by deciding to spend 6 months in Missoula, Montana to work on a publishing business with two other people, who I’m also living with in a big house we’re using as an office.

I’ve been talking about this quite a bit in my free newsletter, but Asymmetrical Press has dominated a lot of my attention of late, and with good reason. We’ve got a whole lot going on and even more on the horizon, and I want to bring your attention to one of our projects, Chapbook, the first issue of which is available for free on Amazon until March 2.

Chapbook is a compilation of short work, pulled from larger works from myself and the other authors currently publishing under the Asymmetrical Press imprint. Authors in this edition include Joshua Fields Millburn, Ryan Nicodemus, Shawn Mihalik, and Chase Night. I’m super-crazy-excited for people to see the kind of work we’re producing and publishing, so if you have a second, go snag yourself a free copy, and I would truly appreciate it if you’d leave a review on Amazon and Goodreads once you’ve had a look. These reviews help Asym and our authors immensely, and I really appreciate you taking the time!

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