Renaissance of Organic Designs
November 1st, 2024, arrived with the weight of finality and the lightness of liberation. After three extensions and a final offer to remain on university staff—gestures that might have been flattering in another lifetime—I officially retired from the institution that had employed me for eighteen years. The decision to politely decline their continued overtures wasn't difficult; my heart and soul had been living in my "next life" for months, developing skills and building a portfolio that belonged to an entirely different professional universe.
The university's repeated attempts to retain me were both touching and telling. Institutions, by their nature, resist change and prefer to keep functioning systems intact. To them, I represented reliable service, institutional knowledge, and continuity in an academic world increasingly characterized by turnover and uncertainty. Their offers to extend my remote work arrangement, their willingness to accommodate my Oregon residence, their final invitation to remain on staff—all of these reflected their comfort with the status quo.
But I had moved far beyond status quo thinking. While they were trying to preserve what had been, I was actively building what would be. The gap between their vision of my professional future and my own had widened to the point where no amount of accommodation could bridge it. Sometimes the kindest thing you can do for an institution—and for yourself—is to acknowledge when a relationship has run its natural course.
The moment I clicked "submit" on my final retirement paperwork, I was already deep into the resurrection of something I had started decades earlier. In 1997, during the early days of the internet when securing domain names felt like staking claims in digital territory, I had registered www.organicdesigns.com. At the time, it was more aspiration than business plan—a placeholder for a vision of work that integrated creativity, environmental consciousness, and design thinking.
Twenty-seven years later, that domain name was about to fulfill its original promise. The company name that had waited patiently through my academic career was finally ready to become the vehicle for the kind of work I had always wanted to do. "Organic Designs" perfectly captured the convergence of my interests: biophilic design principles, botanical ceramic art, moss wall installations, and interiorscape services.
Perhaps the most surprising aspect of my professional transformation was the decision to pursue general contractor licensing in Oregon. This wasn't a pivot anyone who knew me from my university days would have predicted, but it made perfect sense given the direction my work was taking. Creating large-scale moss installations and comprehensive interiorscape projects often required construction skills, building permits, and the kind of project management experience that academic work, for all its complexity, doesn't typically provide.
The licensing process became an intensive education in building codes, safety regulations, project planning, and the practical realities of transforming interior environments. Where my academic training had prepared me to analyze and interpret, contractor education taught me to build and implement. The combination felt like completing a circle that had been decades in the making.
Every hour I had previously devoted to university responsibilities was now redirected toward developing a portfolio that reflected my true capabilities and interests. This wasn't just about collecting examples of past work but actively creating the kinds of projects that would attract the clients and collaborations I wanted in my next professional chapter.
The portfolio development process forced me to articulate what I actually offered that was unique and valuable. My combination of artistic training, environmental design understanding, hands-on building skills, and years of project management experience created a service offering that didn't fit traditional categories but addressed real needs in the marketplace.
Throughout this period of professional transformation, my ceramic work continued evolving along botanical lines, with lighting remaining a central focus. The pieces were becoming more sophisticated technically and more confident artistically—the result of years of experimentation and the kind of sustained attention that's only possible when creative work isn't competing with institutional obligations for mental energy.
The botanical lighting pieces were also serving as a bridge between my ceramic art and my interiorscape business. Clients who hired Organic Designs for plant installations often became interested in custom ceramic lighting that would complement and enhance their biophilic environments. The art was informing the business, and the business was inspiring new artistic directions.
By November 2024, all the different threads of my professional development were weaving together in ways that felt both inevitable and miraculous. The general contractor skills supported large-scale installation projects. The artistic background informed design decisions. The environmental knowledge guided plant selection and placement. The project management experience enabled complex client relationships.
Most importantly, the work felt integrated in a way that academic employment never had. Instead of compartmentalizing creativity as something I did in my spare time, everything I was building supported and enhanced everything else. The ceramic art informed the interiorscape design, which created opportunities for custom lighting commissions, which strengthened my portfolio for contractor work.
Official retirement from the university wasn't just the end of one career phase but the beginning of a completely different approach to professional life. Instead of trading time for institutional security, I was building a business that could scale with my interests and energy. Instead of accepting predetermined definitions of success, I was creating work that aligned with my values and vision.
The freedom to decline the university's final offer felt like claiming ownership of my own professional destiny in a way I had never experienced before. For eighteen years, I had been valuable to them because I fit their needs. Now I was building something valuable to me because it expressed my authentic capabilities and interests.
Organic Designs wasn't just a business name—it was a philosophy of work that integrated artistic vision, environmental consciousness, technical skill, and entrepreneurial energy. The domain name that had waited twenty-seven years for its moment was finally ready to support the kind of comprehensive creative practice I had been building toward my entire adult life.
November 1st, 2024, marked more than a retirement—it was the official beginning of a professional renaissance that had been years in preparation. The university chapter of my life had served its purpose, providing financial stability during the most challenging personal years and giving me time to develop the skills and vision that would support what came next.
Now, with the botanical ceramic lighting glowing in my Oregon studio and the Organic Designs portfolio growing stronger every month, the future felt not just bright but brilliantly illuminated by work that finally matched the person I had become.
