Since last weekend, I’ve been feverishly pulling together a portfolio of my work. (My company recently hired a new VP of Creative and she wants to see everyone’s books.)
I’m fortunate that I already have something vaguely resembling a portfolio, because I’ve been a freelancer on and off. Still—I find myself agonizing over what to include.
I’ve been trying to come up with some sort of a unifying theme, but there doesn’t appear to be one. So instead I’ve placed the samples in order of relevance to my current position. The writing is up front, and the travel photography is at the very end. I’m still not sure whether I should even include the photography. But I’m sure I’ll decide by Friday.
In spite of my self-induced stress, it’s been a worthwhile exercise.
I had no idea I’d produced so much. I’ve never considered myself a prolific writer, but—yikes! The sheer volume is impressive (though not necessarily in a good way).
It’s also been fun to see my entire career laid out in 20 pages. It’s somewhat like a creative person’s near-death experience: Your entire body of work flashing before your eyes.
I wonder whether I’ll get to go to heaven?