It’s Election Day 2004. Partners Art Chantry and Jamie Sheehan have just returned from a morning of work for the political action committee, MoveOn.org. It could be a day of dramatic change, although by this point in the afternoon, it’s beginning to be evident that a reelection is eminent.

Chantry sighs heavily at what would apparently be his lot for four more years, but he was philosophical, as he is about nearly everything. Hard knocks only seem to fuel a nearly constant catharsis in him. There are lessons in every experience, no matter how high or low.

The 50-year-old designer, now living in St. Louis, has had the fortune/misfortune to have been repetitively famous. He has been an industry darling as well as its demon, sometimes at the same time. His first few bouts with fame nearly pushed him under. But today, he seems to have developed an internal level that helps him objectively balance acclaim and awards (of which he has plenty) with his personal peace and creativity (less of the first but much more of the second). He continues to search for ways to work on his own terms and still make a living. Trouble is, the bubble at the center wants to keep moving.

Chantry: One of the weird things about my career is that I have been “discovered” many times. In the 1980s, I was the record cover guy. Then I was the political poster guy. Next I was the lettering guy. In this business, it’s easy to get pigeon-holed pretty quickly. But that pigeonhole just gives you the opportunity to come out again as a different kind of guy.

CA: What do you mean?

Chantry: Whatever becomes pigeon-holed pretty quickly becomes mainstream, and then it dies. I just let it die. I continue with what I am doing, but just go in a new direction. Artists have to have bursts in different directions or they are doomed. You have to step back and walk away in order to go forward.Right now, I am dramatically pigeonholed. Even though I get hyper-attention and get plenty of invitations for speaking engagements, the work is not there. That’s frustrating, but it’s OK. I have to constantly explore and understand and move. Those are difficult skills to master, and they often come from having to deal with adversity. The cost of constant learning is definitely challenging. But it makes you a better designer—it’s part of my success. All the ups and downs and angles and disasters are what makes me succeed. I have had a helluva history, but I would not change anything. It’s all a great source of creative inspiration.

CA: But from a practical standpoint, how do you make a living?

Chantry: There was a time in my life when I felt I would die if I didn’t get work. Designers can get desperate. I actually worked for an arms merchant one time.

CA: Really?

Chantry: I had lost everything to a client who was a crook, and this guy shows up, an old friend. He says he will pay me $10,000 to do a quarter-page ad for a magazine that is distributed only in the Pentagon. The magazine was like your worst nightmare, full of kill ratios, hit accuracy reports and such. I had to make a choice. The guy is a friend, and it’s good money. People might die because of what is advertised, but am I really connected to that?

It all fell apart before the ad happened, but I learned my price. Like many designers, I was struggling. At about the same time, my life began to collapse. My marriage collapsed, my business collapsed, I was almost homeless. I was willing to do anything and was working myself to death. I was doing a lot of work for corporations who treated me like dirt, and I was letting them do it. I was exercising no control in the decision-making process.

I promised myself then that I was not going to work for jerks anymore. I don’t care if they have big dollar signs. The way I feel about my work and about myself was too important to sell out. I would do work that sounded fun and not worry about the money anymore. Even to me, it sounded like a recipe for disaster.

But a funny thing happened. Within a year, I found myself enjoying my work more than ever. My work was exciting. It was fun. I couldn’t wait to get to work and began to gain some recognition. I was making more money than ever. By taking a giant step backward, I moved forward.