Making It Look Easy Isn’t Easy
“You make it look so easy,” I was told.
It reminded me of two stories that show just how much work goes into making something look easy.
In 1998, Citi hired Paula Scher to lead their rebranding, starting with a new logo. A logo that would cost $1.5 million.
During the preliminary meeting, she began sketching on a napkin.
Soon, she slid the napkin across the table, telling them, “This is your logo.”
Citi balked at the idea, convinced a 20-minute napkin sketch couldn’t be worth $1.5 million.
To justify the expense, Citi dragged out the process for months, but in the end, ultimately settled on the original logo created on a napkin.
It reminded me of a similar legend about Picasso.
Rumor has it that Picasso was approached at a French market by someone who asked him if he could sketch something for her.
Naturally, Picasso pulled out a napkin and drew something in a matter of minutes.
When he handed the napkin over, he asked for a million Francs in return.
The woman stared at him in astonishment, asking how he could ask so much for something that was drawn in mere minutes.
He responded that it took him 40 years to draw it in five minutes.
Citi made the same mistake, thinking they were paying for 20 minutes, when really they were paying for the 20 years of Scher’s experience that led to that moment.
If they trusted that, they could’ve avoided months of wasted time—and probably more money—under the guise of justifying their expense.
Back to the other day. I was asked to quickly rewrite a phrase to meet a last-minute client ask.
To me, sometimes these types of asks are like puzzles—swapping words, shifting phrases, making everything click into place.
Now, I don’t necessarily think of myself as an otherworldly writer by any means, but that’s also the point—sometimes we discount our own unique set of skills and experiences that we can bring to any task, project, or even the world as a whole.
We make the same mistake as the people sitting across Scher and Picasso, thinking that if we can do something quickly, it’s not really a great skill or talent.
We forget all the years of experience that went into that moment.
We compare ourselves to others—online or off—and convince ourselves we don’t measure up.
Lean into that experience and knowledge more. Don’t be afraid to use it. There’s no one else who has had our individual set of circumstances and God-given abilities.
In a world where everything has continued to blur in a blob of sameness, the ability to stand out and use those abilities has never been better, or more meaningful. We just have to choose to do so.