Blog
Arrow right
Personal

How do you become a "content-to-image translator"?

How do you become a "content-to-image translator"?

It happens again and again at events that I accompany with graphic recording and in seminars and workshops that I hold on the topic of "translating content into images", but also when I meet new people somewhere. When I say that I draw for a living and help others prepare their topics in a way that resonates with the target audience, the question comes up: "How does one actually become a content-to-picture translator?

Act 1: Why I did not study art

People who see me drawing today usually assume that I learned something artistic. If not applied or fine arts at university, then probably at least some form of illustration or graphics. And that's what I wanted to do. But there was a problem. Three problems to be exact. And all three seemed to my younger self to be set in stone facts that I couldn't change.

"I'm not good enough."

Do you know any of those kids who draw from an early age and spend every free minute bent over a piece of paper with a pen in their hand? Those little miracle people, who already as teenagers master perspective as if by themselves, can draw things so realistically that you could believe it was a photo or proudly distribute their funny comics in school and family? I admire these little geniuses, but I was never one of them myself. Not even close.

I have always liked to draw, but I have never considered these pictures to be particularly good or shared them with others. At my school (a public school with a focus on science), there were a few exceptional talents in drawing - I, on the other hand, never stood out artistically, either at school or in my family. I belonged to a species that, for some unknown reason, was far less popular: I was one of the children (yes, they exist) who liked mathematics. And drawing. And cats. A combination (I'm referring to math and drawing) that would prove helpful in the future, but that didn't make anyone (and certainly not me) suspect "Oh, that kid's an artist!" when I was growing up. I mean, who ever heard of artist:s who like math? Please...

"I'm not going to pass the entrance test."

When it came to thinking about what I wanted to do after school, problem number 1 inevitably turned into problem number 2: I was afraid I wouldn't pass the entrance test to art school. Today, I would think to myself, I can only find out if I make it if I try and I would just apply to see what happens.

At the time, however, I hated the idea of being evaluated by experts who would then (in my personal opinion, with a high degree of probability) come to the conclusion that I was not good enough for their venerable halls. That would settle it once and for all: I have no talent. Black on white. Bad luck.

"I need to make money."

Adding to the self-doubt was the fact that I knew I would be on my own when I finished school. My mother was a single parent. Without us ever talking about it, it was clear to me that after I finished my education, I would need a job that paid my rent, my food, and my clothes. And with whom I can also start a family one day without being dependent on my partner.

I had no role models in my environment who were active in the creative field. As a teenager, therefore, I couldn't for the life of me imagine how I was going to earn a living by drawing. Even if the fancy art university had taken me on.

Bottom line: kid, get a decent job.

So I buried my dream for now. And it didn't seem like a big sacrifice at the time. Studying art was not something anyone had to talk me out of. In a real world with real problems - I was convinced at 18 - drawing pretty pictures is reserved for people who don't have to worry about their rent.

Graphic Recording and the work I do today as a freelancer did not exist as a profession back then. And I didn't know anything about the professional reality of graphic designers, illustrators or motion designers that already existed back then. And I wouldn't have known who to ask about it either.

So I chose a course of study that I thought was the sensible choice and would make sure I could pay my rent no matter what: Economics. Because - or so I thought - you can always get a job with it. Which is not entirely wrong...

Act 2: Why statistics is more creative than many think

That's how I ended up at the University of Economics in Vienna at 18 (and in London for a semester), where I specialized in marketing management, advertising science and market research. I chose marketing because I thought I would learn about how to design posters and advertisements. I thought I would learn the hidden tricks that television commercials use to convince consumers:inenn of a product. I should have done better research 🙂 .

From art to mathematics

In my four years of study, I learned nothing about color psychology, storytelling, or image composition (for which, as it turned out, I should have applied to art school after all). What I learned instead was to better understand business processes. I read, discussed and listened to lectures on accounting, controlling, law, personnel management, economic history and statistics. A lot of statistics. But - you remember - I like numbers. I found the analysis of large numbers not only exciting, but also challenging for my creativity.

  • How do you design a questionnaire to get comparable answers?
  • Why is it important to distinguish between qualitative and quantitative data?
  • When is a statistic biased, even if it is not fundamentally wrong?
  • How do you evaluate large amounts of data mathematically correctly?
  • What conclusions can be drawn from the data obtained?

Market research led me into the world of statistics and after finishing my studies, I ended up at an IT company where I spent several years helping corporate clients from various industries sort out their numbers. In concrete terms, this meant that I gave courses and helped controllers, accountants and managers to bring order into their figures. The goal: to sort large piles of numbers into clear tables in order to evaluate them mathematically correctly and as automatically as possible and to be able to draw conclusions from them.

What I have learned from giving seminars and workshops

Holding seminars was great. I learned a lot about working with groups, started to work intensively with flipcharts when presenting, and found that visually summarizing complex content helps participants immensely to understand even the most complex formulas and structures and to apply them to their work in practice.

Since good seminars not only require technical skills, but also demand a lot from the trainer in the area of didactics and dealing with groups, I completed many further training courses parallel to my work. Above all, the train-the-trainer and coaching courses have brought me a lot personally, because what I didn't know at the time: for the step into self-employment, I would have to learn not only professional skills, but also how to ask the right questions and listen well to my customers.

How flipcharts paved my way

But back to the seminars: my flipcharts made the rounds. After each workshop I created a flipchart protocol and sent it to my participants and clients. They liked it and soon I was asked to hold flipchart design courses for my trainer colleagues. I think that was the moment when I thought for the first time "Ha, maybe I can do something professionally with my drawing skills after all!"

It didn't stop with the courses for the colleagues. At some point, my seminar participants started asking me if I could also draw at other events to visually record the content. I thought that sounded quite funny and enthusiastically said "Yes, of course! Without suspecting that this would soon take me down a whole new path. Or that this "drawing" is a new method that is currently on the rise in America under the name "graphic recording".

Act 3: How everything fell into place

So I drew at events from time to time. At each event, my work was seen by new people. More requests came in. With each new inquiry, my certainty grew that I was on to something. I began to look at drawing intensively again for the first time after leaving school. Soon after the first graphic recordings came the requests for explainer videos: "Can't you just run a camera while you draw along?". It wasn't quite that easy, but I was as motivated as a toddler to whom you open the door to a room full of balloons and loud dance music; with trampolines and confetti rain; and a ball pit; and baby kittens.... That was exactly what I wanted to do! Not the kittens - drawing and creating videos to help others translate complex content into images. Suddenly, all of my weird and previously haphazard skills made sense. I propped myself up with open arms into independence and with it, a great new adventure.

Yes, that's how it was. Looking back, I think I was very lucky. I was lucky that my work met with interest. Good luck that interested customers opened the door to the world of graphic recording and explanatory videos for me through their inquiries. Good luck that I was so diligently recommended to others. Good luck that all the paths and detours have come together at some point to form a great whole.

This is not to say that I have not made a contribution. I worked through nights, overcame many difficult situations, worked on my skills, and learned new things all the time. I have made an effort. For my customers and for my projects. But not everything is in our hands. And I am grateful for the part that is not in my hands. Very much so.

Trust your compass and forget the map

I don't think you can plan everything anyway. I often think of the speech Steve Jobs gave to the graduating class of an elite American university many years ago (you can find the video here). He talks about how you can only connect the dots in retrospect ("connecting the dots").

I would say you can only pack a compass when you go, but not a map. On a map, you would be able to clearly define the destination in advance. On a map, you'd be able to see the canyons and mountains along the way to your destination. You would know what to expect and could adjust to it or even avoid the stumbling blocks. I don't think that's how it works. There is no map that tells you everything in advance. Sometimes I would wish for such a map, but somehow the journey would probably be much more boring with it.

I think what we have is a compass. A sense of which direction is right for ourselves. An idea of which door is the one you want to go through. Even if you don't know why yet. And then you have to be brave and go on your way. And fall down. And get up. And hope that you will meet people along the way who will support you. Who cheer you on when you run out of breath. Who now and then clear a stone out of the way. Who show you the way to a bridge when you're standing in front of a raging river or have a towel ready when you can't find the bridge but still reach the other shore swimming and panting.

Thank you to all my door-openers, encouragers, stone-clearers, path-pointers and towel-providers. Without you I would not be where I am today and the journey would not have been the same.

In the sense: To the next stages and adventures - my compass is ready and I have a feeling where it could go...

blog

more exciting articles

Online course Designing flipcharts Summary