Ahhhh, can you smell it? No, not the stale champagne still sitting on the coffee table from New Year’s Eve. No, I’m talking about the bright-shiny-and-new aroma of a new year. Full of promise and possibility. It’s exhilarating.

Seeing as it is “that time of the year,” there’s no time like the present for making resolutions, and that includes making better design decisions. Well, pull out some Post-its, ‘cause I’ve got some suggestions for you.

Without further ado, I present to you my list of design resolutions for 2010:

Get out of your comfort zone. We all get into ruts. After all, if something has been successful before, why wouldn’t it work again? Well, consider this a dare to expand your horizons. Whether it’s finding some new typefaces to substitute in for your old standbys, or exploring new color combinations, don’t just settle for the familiar. Sure, some of your experiments won’t work, but you’re bound to be inspired in the process.

Go back to school. Okay, I don’t mean literally re-enroll in college, but try to set aside some time to catch yourself up on the programs and software you use frequently. Even if you consider yourself an expert, there are constantly new releases, editions, and updates being released, which usually come with some cool new tricks and shortcuts. For nearly every program in existence, there are solutions that can help make your daily tasks much easier and more efficient.

Learn a new language. Again, I’m not talking about taking up Italian. With each passing year, the excuses are dwindling for a designer to not have at least a basic knowledge of web programming. In fact, I can’t think of a single one. So in 2010, make it a priority to “get with the program(ming)” (excuse the pun). Total beginner? Start with HTML and CSS. It’ll help you seriously understand how a web design goes from paper (or Photoshop) to a fully functioning website. If you’ve already got some knowledge under your belt, I’m sure you can easily identify an area you would like to understand more. Don’t get frustrated if it seems overwhelming (and it is), every little bit helps.

Easy, right? Remember, you’re much more likely to be successful if you take baby steps towards change. This can, and should, be a slow process. Don’t feel pressure to totally change the way you work overnight. In fact, as with all resolutions, these things are meant to help make a better you, so don’t forget to stay true to yourself. If you can’t imagine giving up your favorite font, don’t. Just try to add in others here and there.

As for me? I’ll be attempting to learn the basics of PHP and expanding my typeface repertoire. And working in some WordPress tutorials. Just don’t expect me to give up Avenir, ‘cause that ain’t happening.

When I meet new friends and tell them I work in a creative field, they often respond with a frightened look and say something like, “Oh, I could never do what you do. I’m just not creative.”

Sometimes our clients seem intimidated by the design process as well. They often say things like, “Have your designers work their magic on this.” More often than not, these good folks are a little misinformed about what we do. But we designers are partly to blame for the misinformation. We’ve allowed a kind of mythology to enshroud our profession, implying that what we do is akin to graphic design alchemy.

Here’s how the mythological perception about designers might present itself:

Client: (sheepishly) “I want a website. Here is my entire budget.”

Designer:  “Yes, this will do…give me two months.”

Immediately the designer (in reality..a prophet) retires to his fortress of contemplative solitude for an undetermined period of time. After consulting with his muse (i.e. two mojitos), he sacrifices a small animal and receives a vision or “thumbnail sketch” from the ancestors. He then summons fire from on high in the form of html code and forges a home page from his own sweat and the tears of children everywhere. Behold, a new website is born.

In reality our approach is much less dramatic, and much more strategic. First, we determine to whom we’re speaking and what we need to say. Then we simplify the message and find a way to speak it clearly. This all comes from listening to the goals and objectives our client outlined at the outset of the project.

Now, we do want to make our design stand out from the competition, and I’ll allow that some inspiration comes into play at this point. Simply by observing, analyzing and learning over time, the graphic designer has amassed a cerebral library of fonts, compositional techniques, photographic and textural treatments, and other such devices which he/she will employ to make the site visually unique and completely functional. Once the design is complete, it’s translated into code and brought to life. The content and the functionality support each other, resulting in a successful, effective website.

A successful, effective website…and not once did we use pixie dust.

Why is creativity necessary? Can’t we just go through life giving straightforward answers, approaching problems with a proven plan, putting out work that doesn’t suck, but isn’t mind-blowing either? What’s wrong with that? We can’t blow minds all the time, right?

Several weeks ago, I attended a speaking event on creativity and was exposed to the single greatest college entrance essay I’ve ever read. A very creative young gentleman named Hugh Gallagher applied to NYU with the following piece of literary gold:

3A. ESSAY: IN ORDER FOR THE ADMISSIONS STAFF OF OUR COLLEGE TO GET TO KNOW YOU, THE APPLICANT, BETTER, WE ASK THAT YOU ANSWER THE FOLLOWING QUESTION:

ARE THERE ANY SIGNIFICANT EXPERIENCES YOU HAVE HAD, OR ACCOMPLISHMENTS YOU HAVE REALIZED, THAT HAVE HELPED TO DEFINE YOU AS A PERSON?

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I am a dynamic figure, often seen scaling walls and crushing ice. I have been known to remodel train stations on my lunch breaks, making them more efficient in the area of heat retention. I translate ethnic slurs for Cuban refugees, I write award-winning operas, I manage time efficiently. Occasionally, I tread water for three days in a row.I woo women with my sensuous and godlike trombone playing, I can pilot bicycles up severe inclines with unflagging speed, and I cook Thirty-Minute Brownies in twenty minutes. I am an expert in stucco, a veteran in love, and an outlaw in Peru.

Using only a hoe and a large glass of water, I once single-handedly defended a small village in the Amazon Basin from a horde of ferocious army ants. I play bluegrass cello, I was scouted by the Mets, I am the subject of numerous documentaries. When I’m bored, I build large suspension bridges in my yard. I enjoy urban hang gliding. On Wednesdays, after school, I repair electrical appliances free of charge.

I am an abstract artist, a concrete analyst, and a ruthless bookie. Critics worldwide swoon over my original line of corduroy evening wear. I don’t perspire. I am a private citizen, yet I receive fan mail. I have been caller number nine and have won the weekend passes. Last summer I toured New Jersey with a traveling centrifugal-force demonstration. I bat .400. My deft floral arrangements have earned me fame in international botany circles. Children trust me.

I can hurl tennis rackets at small moving objects with deadly accuracy. I once read Paradise Lost, Moby Dick, and David Copperfield in one day and still had time to refurbish an entire dining room that evening. I know the exact location of every food item in the supermarket. I have performed several covert operations for the CIA. I sleep once a week; when I do sleep, I sleep in a chair. While on vacation in Canada, I successfully negotiated with a group of terrorists who had seized a small bakery. The laws of physics do not apply to me.

I balance, I weave, I dodge, I frolic, and my bills are all paid. On weekends, to let off steam, I participate in full-contact origami. Years ago I discovered the meaning of life but forgot to write it down. I have made extraordinary four course meals using only a mouli and a toaster oven. I breed prizewinning clams. I have won bullfights in San Juan, cliff-diving competitions in Sri Lanka, and spelling bees at the Kremlin. I have played Hamlet, I have performed open-heart surgery, and I have spoken with Elvis.

But I have not yet gone to college.

So after reading that mind-blowing collection of lies, I ask again: Why is creativity necessary? Well, without it, modern life, art and culture would be virtually nonexistent. There would be no electricity, automobiles, vaccines, van Goghs, suspension bridges, symphonies, pizzas or Homer Simpsons. And reading college entrance essays would be excruciating.

But you don’t have to be an Edison or a Mozart, or even a Hugh Gallagher, to harness the powers of creativity. We all have opportunities to be creative, to take our work in imaginative directions, to approach our projects or customers or business in a new and refreshing way, to spice up the “normal” with a little “godlike trombone playing” and/or “full-contact origami.” We must seize opportunities to be creative or risk blending in with the white noise.

We try to do that every day here at VANGEL.

(By the way, Hugh was indeed accepted and attended college at NYU.)