I hope you can really see this picture. It’s the work of my little man, Jack (aka, the Snack Pack). This is his signature image. You’ve got the backhoe and the guy with his helmet inside. Jack doesn’t go anywhere without his guys and their helmets.
Typically, Jack works with paper and pen. Sometimes crayon, the occasional pencil. Watercolors and a brush also serve him well. But this was his first foray into sand.
Note: The first group is relatively similar—they offer a smooth, plain surface on which you draw with a handheld tool. But, the sand and no tool—this is a new world.
With just his finger, he created an exact replica of his picture. He’s gotten so good at this image, that he can produce it, apparently, wherever and whenever. He navigated shells and seaweed, the downward slope of the beach to the water, passersby, seagulls, differing degrees of sand wetness and firmness, not to mention encroaching waves with great aplomb.
He stood back and surveyed his magic like a seasoned artist. His bright, blue eyes narrowed. His white blond hair crazed on head.
I was talking to a friend and colleague last night, as she prepares for an interview for a new gig. And we were talking about resumes. They seem so passé at this point, but they’re still necessary as they document where you’ve been and what you’ve done. Even though, likely and hopefully, the details/juice/meat of that work will get pulled out during the interview.
My suggestion was to lead with what she can do and how she does it, let the ‘where’s and ‘with whom’s fall to the bottom of the list. Because, while they prove you’re legit, they’re just labels, just platforms. Like paper, pen, brush, paint, canvas.
What we really want to know is, can you take your skills, your know-how, your perspective, your signature—and make the leap onto the sand?