Debbie Millman has an ongoing project at PRINT titled “What Matters.” This is an effort to understand the interior life of artists, designers, and creative thinkers. This facet of the project is a request of each invited respondent to answer ten identical questions and submit a nonprofessional photograph.
Diana Varma works as a design educator by day and a podcaster by night; getting creative with creatives about all things creative. She is a curious human who dabbles in a variety of printing technologies, most recently LEGO letterpress. Diana lives with her family near Toronto, Canada and can be found on Instagram @talkpaperscissors.
What is the thing you like doing most in the world?
Teaching, wholeheartedly. I love working within creative constraints when developing unique course experiences, building valuable assessments that have never been tried, connecting in classroom spaces, learning alongside students and glorious ‘aha!’ moments. One of my favourite places to be brave is in the classroom. I’ve tried everything from writing with your foot to summarizing whole courses through poetry. I am serious about the power of play.
This is likely an overshare, but thanks to the magic of epidurals, I managed to have a conversation about education while in labour with my daughter. Come to think of it, she sort of interrupted it with her arrival.
What is the first memory you have of being creative?
Choosing crayons over playing with most other toys. My Mom loved Barbie dolls when she was little so she made sure I had an extensive collection of my own. Most days I’d choose crayons and paper over everything else; a truth that continues to this day. Pass the crayons, please!
What is your biggest regret?
I don’t know if this is a regret so much as what I’m continuing to work on all the time, which is staying present. There are moments that I look back on in photos and in videos of when my kids were really little and, intellectually, I know that it happened because I have record of it. However, because I was experiencing it at a literal arms-length with a barrier between myself and the experience (my phone), it feels far more disembodied and performative than embodied and connective sometimes. And whether I want to admit it or not, the feeling at the root of this is regret.
How have you gotten over heartbreak?
After the initial shock of heartbreak has subsided, I try to recognize that there’s a lesson to be learned and to seek out some sort of meaning. I also feel it’s necessary to believe – to unequivocally trust – that there are brighter days ahead.
There’s an incredible visual by Tim Urban’s @waitbutwhy that feels so hopeful. Imagine a blank page with a vertical line drawn down the center; everything left of center represents the past, the center line represents the present and everything right of center represents the future. Now imagine a horizontal line drawn from the left side of the page representing the chronology of your singular path through life so far. I’m guilty of imagining that this same singular straight line will continue past center into my future, but what really exists to the right are an infinite number of life paths open to us; a network of lines extending in an expansive web with one decision leading to a whole range of other opportunities and possibilities.
When heartbreak has happened in my life, I’ve found that zooming out to see big picture — understanding that the path that got us here doesn’t have to be the same path dictating the future — is a liberating practice. There’s choice, there’s possibility and there’s a way through that exists even if not always visible.
What makes you cry?
So many things. Weddings, gratitude, conversations with friends that feel really connected, therapy, Humans of New York, thinking about my Dad, videos of dogs being loving loyal companions humans don’t deserve, answering these questions.
How long does the pride and joy of accomplishing something last for you?
This is an interesting question because I want to believe that it lasts a long time, but I think that’s becoming less and less true for me. The increasing speed of life leaves little room to sit in joy and contentment before moving on to the next thing. I’m a firm believer that quantity enables quality in creative work and I also think it’s a double-edged sword. Quantity often means speed which leaves less time for feeling before moving onto the next thing. Quantity also means that the creative stakes are lower, spread out over a greater number of outputs, which feels like a more playful and abundant place from which to create. I think it’s all connected back to the ability to stay in the present moment, which is a time expander irrespective of actual time available.
Do you believe in an afterlife, and if so, what does that look like to you?
I grew up with very few traditional religious practices but I imagine that our souls freely exist beyond the limited constraints of our physical bodies and in ways that our limited human understanding can’t comprehend. My Dad passed away 27 days before my second daughter was born and I like to think that they spent that time together; one going and one coming, both neither here nor there. In her first year of life, there were so many little things that reminded me of my Dad (like her love of music and the way she could be lulled to sleep by having her head scratched). These are the little things giving me hope that there’s more to life (and death) than the limitations of living in human bodies with human brains can understand.
What do you hate most about yourself?
The contradictory tendency to be vulnerable and communicate effectively in professional settings, while finding it incredibly difficult to show vulnerability or communicate the hard stuff in personal settings.
What do you love most about yourself?
My curiosity and capacity to remain open-minded in my thoughts, ideas, decisions and ways of seeing the world. This includes my ability to find contentment in multiplicity; holding two opposing thoughts or beliefs at the same time without feeling compelled to seek one binary truth. I also appreciate my ability to ‘yes, and’ situations, which allows me to work with many different types of people successfully. It’s a huge privilege to work with students and colleagues from so many diverse cultural and educational backgrounds, through which I’m able to expand my singular understanding of the world in our interactions.
What is your absolute favorite meal?
Shrimp tacos: sweet & spicy, smooth & crunchy, creamy & fresh. As I articulate my love for this meal it all makes sense: it typifies the magic of multiplicity.