For a long time, I’ve been trying to figure out how to put all the different things I do under one roof. Art. Technology. Project management. Psychology. Coaching. Writing. Easy, right? Not exactly.
Maybe you know the problem: the things that make sense together in your own head don’t always fit neatly into the boxes other people expect. And sometimes the harder you try to explain, the more confusing it gets.
For a while, this blog became that roof. Theatre of Truth(s) gave me a place where I could write about pretty much anything that caught my attention, without first having to decide which professional box it belonged in.
Psychology could sit next to art. Art could bump into everyday life. A trip could turn into an observation about human behavior. The blog connects the dots simply because I’m the person writing it. And it will continue to do that.
However, what you may not have noticed were all the redirects taking you from one site to another. One click led somewhere else, then another. Instead of one clear path, there were multiple sites competing for your attention, each asking you to do a little mental gymnastics to understand where you were and how it connected to everything else.
My artwork lived in one place. The blog in another. Then, at some point, the consulting page got converted into coaching. Actually, it became a little of both. That probably tells you something about how orderly this whole process has been. Or rather not.
One part of my work grew, another moved aside, something else got repurposed. I ended up with a digital house assembled from several different places, with rooms that didn’t quite match what was happening inside them anymore. So, I kept brainstorming. Planning. Moving things around. Changing my mind. Rewriting sentences that were perfectly fine until I looked at them the next day.
What I wanted was a way to connect it all under one brand, bring all those dislocated parts under one roof. And I think I finally got it. Well… the MVP.
If you work in technology, you know what MVP stands for: Minimum Viable Product. It basically means: this thing works, it does what it needs to do, people can actually use it, and no, we’re not going to spend another six months polishing the doorknob before opening the door. I’ve already spent too many years in the ideation phase.
That’s ellajoseph.com.
Far from finished. Far from perfect. But that’s part of the fun of doing it on my own. Well, sort of. There’s no web development company behind it, just my brother doing the back-end heavy lifting.
There’s no branding team presenting three beautifully rendered concepts while I nod thoughtfully across a conference table. It’s just me figuring out the layout. Writing the copy. Obsessing over whether something should be orange or blue. Rewriting a headline for the tenth time.
Occasionally wondering whether I’ve improved something or simply wasted a lot of time moving three pixels to the left. Knowing that at some point I have to stop. Not because the thing is finished. Because it works.
That may be one of the most useful things working in technology has taught me. You don’t have to build the final version. You build a version that works. You put it out there. Then you keep working on it to make it better. Which, when I think about it, is one of the best approaches to a lot of things in life.
Making art, especially performance art, is similar. When show day arrives, perfect or not, the doors open. People come in. At some point, the rehearsal stops. So this Sunday, I’m doing exactly that. I’m bringing my art, coaching, consulting, writing, and shop together under one roof.
The new roof is up at ellajoseph.com.
Come in and have a look. Notice what catches your attention, follow it, and see where it takes you. And let me know. What works, what doesn’t, what feels confusing.
I’m always curious to see a place through someone else’s eyes.