I started getting bored in 2013. I was in New York City after grad school, working for startups on the brand side—mostly graphic design stuff and anything digital, sometimes offline experiences because of my interior architecture background. It's not like I wasn't challenged, but I wasn't challenged in a creative, visual, artistic way. So I decided to start my "A Poster a Day" project on the side.
I thought, This will be a challenge for myself, to do 100 days of posters. I had, like, 20 followers on Instagram and they were all my friends. They were like, "Yeah right, you’re not going to do that." But at that point, I didn't know who I was as an artist or a designer. It was a challenge to keep me busy but also to just make something and to lose my fear of sharing work. I gave myself a limit of 30 minutes a day and would post something every day.
It somehow blew up; I wasn't really expecting that. Around 120 days in, I had a much bigger following and press was writing about it. I was like, Wait, what is happening? This is weird! People wanted to have prints of my posters. That’s when the baby Studio Proba was born—just the graphic design shop. In years two, three, and four of that, it turned into community-based projects. People wrote me stories and things like that, and I visualized them. I felt like my work had more of a purpose, rather than just making things that are pretty. It made me want to keep going, because it didn’t get boring; there was someone else on the other side I didn’t know.
All of a sudden I had this following, but I didn't have the time to focus on my studio because I had a full-time job. Even though I self-sponsored my green card through my studio in 2015, which means I had total freedom to do whatever I wanted to, I always chose security and the safe route. I think I was so used to always having a job. I was also scared that once I went out on my own, it would all fall apart and I wouldn't be able to pay my rent.
Then I started doing more. I translated my graphic design work into textiles. I worked on wallpapers and collaborated with furniture designers and made objects. And murals, of course. I was the design director of creative agency Mother New York for a while, then I decided to go out on my own. I thought, OK, now is the time. But then Nike came along.
They said, "We want you to work for us and help us open this studio in New York City." I just couldn’t say no to that because a) it’s Nike, b) it’s a big company that I had never worked for on that scale, and c) I thought, I can learn a lot about how to build a creative studio for myself.
I loved working there, it’s a great company. But at the end of the day, after a year and a half, I had to part ways to actually do Studio Proba. I’d become so busy—it was really hard to give it my all at my job and also at my studio. It was exactly how you’d imagine it: I'd finish work, go home, and reply to emails and do all the other projects that I had to do. I’d try not to work later than midnight. I’m just not the age anymore where I can do all-nighters and be fine the next day. And then my boyfriend lives on the West Coast. Any relationship is work, but that’s work.
I had the relationship, I had my job, and I had my studio. I knew I could only do two things out of those three. The decision to leave Nike was about prioritizing my life, not just my career, which was really tough because I’m such a career-oriented person. My whole life I've chosen my career over everything. That was my first time realizing, Hey, I can have a career and I can still have a life, and I might be a happier person if I have both.
By doing Studio Proba on the side for so long, I had the time—without stress and pressure—to find who I am, to find my voice. I would be a totally different person if I had started Studio Proba in 2013 and been like, Fuck it, I’m just going to do it. I trusted my gut with every step. Some of my friends were like, "You’re working too much, you never hang out on the weekends!" But I felt like I didn't have a choice; I felt like it was the right thing to do at that moment. I’m not sure if that’s why it worked out or not, but it definitely makes me feel like I’m more capable of doing this.
My parents were like, "You’re sure? You can just quit your job?" When I first went out on my own, my dad would call and ask me if I had money for food or if he should send me money. I was like, "I’m good, I don’t need any money!" There was a lot of fear from others, which makes you question yourself. Maybe no one needs my work, maybe I get one job and that’s it. Then again, I thought, What’s the worst thing that can happen? The worst thing that can happen is that I have to find a job again.
As soon as I left Nike, I got onto a plane and flew to San Francisco to paint a mural at the Dropbox office, which was mid-January this year. Ever since then I’ve been super busy. I’m still working 24/7. I try not to work on Sundays, although I have to force myself to be somewhere else. There’s no way I could just not do anything when I’m at home—I have a 1,000-square-foot apartment and half of it is dedicated to my studio at the moment. On a recent Sunday morning, I met friends who were visiting from Sweden for breakfast. After that, I didn’t have plans and I thought, OK, I can’t go home right now because I’ll just work. I had to go to a friend’s apartment. It was a conscious choice to actually relax and take a nap.
The biggest challenge that I’m having a hard time with is I’m constantly working alone, I’m constantly traveling alone, I’m constantly painting alone, I’m constantly thinking alone. Obviously, I could use another designer or an intern. But I haven’t been in New York much this year. I’m constantly traveling for work and then traveling in my free time to see my family in Germany or my boyfriend in Portland. So I think it’s really hard for me to figure out this puzzle right now, how to not do it all alone. I’m always joking I need this button where, whenever and wherever I press it, a person shows up that knows exactly what to do.
My biggest fear is not staying relevant. It’s something I think about every day, every night. I think the anxiety started once I had a community of people looking at my work back in 2013, but it's at its highest point now. I guess I’m lucky that I’m relevant right now—some people only become relevant when they die. The only thing I can do is continue making. If I have a low time in my life for personal reasons or career reasons, whatever it might be, I come up with a new project I want to do. That’s kind of my cure. My mom is always asking, "Is someone paying you for that?" I’m like, "No." She says, "Then why did you do that?" And I’m like, "Why not?" For me, it’s about growing and making something just because I want to.
I think a lot of people are scared of failing, but I feel like that’s the only way to grow and know what you’re supposed to do. Failing is the biggest motivation for me, it's made me who I am now. I never want to go back to life before Studio Proba.
