I got a small job. It’s a start. I’m proud. I share only a little bit of it as it’s not ready to be included in my portfolio.

My sister frequents a hair place to get her hair and nails groomed. She calls it a “hair boutique.” I call it “the client.”

Anyway, they are trying to expand and be more upscale. They are planning a move to better locale with new decor and equipment. The property manager asks them about their logo and they say, “What logo?” My sister happens to be there at the time this happens, getting her hair done, and she says, “My brother designs logos.” I get a call and here we go.

I was honest and told them I’m still in school. I think they like the idea of helping a student and I tell them I’ll be a lot cheaper than a real grown-up designer. They thought this was funny. I get the job.

I start by trying to understand what they want for a logo. They don’t know. So, I asked, “What will the decor for the new place look like?” That was a good question. They know exactly what they want for that. Black and white tiles on the floor. Pink leatherette chairs. Grecian columns. Hmmmm…did I mention they are Greek?

So, this is where the rubber meets the road: the designer takes the vision of the client and using all the knowledge he has acquired in three semesters, shapes that vision into some sort of useful icon that will accurately communicate their purpose, their business, their services to the waiting world.

After several panic attacks, I got a hold of myself and made a plan. I needed inspiration, so I decided to head over towards Tarpon Springs where there are a ton of Greek restaurants and businesses. I walked around the sponge docks for a good hour but found no inspiration. Nada. Nothing. So I did what any artist would do when faced with a dead end: I ate.

I stopped in one of the bakeries for baklava and coffee. The floor was black and white tiles and there were white columns. I paid for my snack and sat down in one of the vinyl lined booths. I laid the spare change in my hand on the table planning to leave it there as a tip. I ate the baklava slowly, savoring every bite. The coffee was black and sharp. I exhaled deeply. It was at that very moment, I saw the coins. One was a quarter. It sat on the table “heads up.” It was the head that drew my attention. That head was covered in hair. You know where this is going, right?

It made me think of a coin I had seen many times: The 1921 American Peace silver dollar. It looks like this:


Inspiration comes from many sources and at times when you least expect it. Just be ready. Then, go for it.