Space Miner

Good memories and lessons learned at JPG Magazine, and why I won’t be headed back.

Two years ago, when I found out that JPG Magazine was looking for a print designer, I paced my apartment for a solid hour until I could tell Wilson about it. I’d only moved to San Francisco from Kansas six months earlier, but I’d been obsessed with photography since I was a kid (started my high school photo club, had my first job at a photo lab, shot party pics in college, etc.). It was just too exciting for words.

I got the interview and the job, and it was everything I’d hoped for and more. I was walking on air for months. The team was equally smart and sweet, the quality of the photography was incredible, and the design of the magazine fit my style to a T. Working for Derek Powazek was inspiring and fun: he was the kind of boss who made you feel really good about everything you got right, and OK about what you didn’t.

After only a few months I watched some of the worst possibilities for startup politics come true. Enduring friendships disintegrated, promises were broken, and hate filled the Internet and our inboxes. The ten or so of us working there slept terribly that week, but withstood something together that made us all stronger and closer for it.

In the chaos that followed, there was still a magazine to put together. With a lot of guidance and support from my friend and creative director Paul Cloutier, I started running the magazine production with issue 11. I wanted it—and knew I was capable of doing it. It was almost a year before I took on the official role of editor, but Paul and the other leaders of the company never underestimated my contributions, or the fact that I’d earned the title.

The hours were tough but the work was amazing. I learned a lot about magazine craft from sister magazine Everywhere’s team members Todd Lappin and Mimi Dutta, and about the business from Laura Simkins. We experimented each issue with collaborative art projects, new sponsorship methods, and everything in between. The members of the JPG community continuously surprised me with their talent and ingenuity; I could never predict what they’d bounce back with.

I got the fateful phone call December 30th, 2008—while waiting in the Wichita airport for a post-holidays flight home—that JPG was done. We’d known for weeks that our funding was running out and that shutdown was a possibility, but that didn’t stop the tears. It had meant a lot to me and many others.

Over time I grieved and moved on, though I still really miss the awesome people I was able to work with both in the office and throughout the community. But the last few months have been an incredible restart. I’ve been overwhelmed with ideas and excitement, met potential collaborators from all over the world, and had three full months to think about what’s next.

As much as I loved my time at JPG, going back to the newly purchased and resurrected JPG isn’t the right decision for me. I’m super excited to see what my friend and former co-worker Seth Familian and his team do with it, but it’s time for me to move on and make my own way.

So far, that’s meant getting very good at executing on fun projects that pay nothing (such as this blog, an upcoming portrait/interview series on community managers, an A List Apart article about coaching community, a curated print series at Level & Tap, etc.) and getting a particularly large and exciting one cooking: lbmsnewphotocommunitysite.com (it’s still in the oven). In the meantime, I’m also consulting with a few groups on community editorial, and looking for a few more to work with (drop me a line for more info).

I’ve discovered that change is only scary until you commit to it, and then it becomes very, very exciting. And then it feels like spring.

Missing my old co-workers and wishing them well. In this picture: Mimi, Bri, Todd, Christi, Jason, Paul, Sig, Rannie, and myself. (and Devin H. behind the camera!)