At brand design agency MiresBall, Anique partners with visionary organizations to define who they are, why they matter, and how they show up with clarity and humanity.
What is the thing you like doing most in the world?
Experiencing awe—evoked in countless ways, but typically through an encounter with beauty or the unexpected, often both. Cresting a ridge to an expansive vista. Reading a poem that unlocks something inside of me. Laughing with my children over something entirely ridiculous.
What is the first memory you have of being creative?
My early exposure to art was through my grandparents. One was an inventor. Another was a multidisciplinary artist who never stopped experimenting with painting, sculpture, photography, and writing. Another an untrained artist who created life-size paintings of abstract beings, often in brilliant turquoise and greens. And finally, an artist by trade who especially loved weaving intricate pine-needle baskets in the style of indigenous people. (That grandmother spent a hot summer in Mexico drawing historical artifacts—locked inside a steamy jail cell to keep the objects safe.)
The summer I was four, my siblings and I spent time in Idyllwild, California—a rich artist community in the mountains where my mom grew up and grandmother still lived. Mom enrolled us in pottery and theatre summer camps. I still feel the clay between my fingers as I manipulated it from a mound into a lopsided vase. Because money was tight in a family with five kids, we swapped places halfway through each camp. One of my older siblings painted my vase while I suppose I performed her part in the theater production—without any solid preparation.
And so was born my fear of acting.
More memorable was Grandma Elea directing us to collect pine needles from the forest floor near Strawberry Creek. She patiently taught me how to weave baskets with the long needles. I am blessed to have one of her baskets in my home—alongside a piece of art from each of my grandparents. Their artwork invites me to see a life well lived as one that pursues creativity for the pure joy of it.
What is your biggest regret?
Regrets diminish when I reframe experiences as either wins or lessons. But given the chance, I would tell my younger self to trust her capacity for creativity. I suppose that’s what my grandparents were saying all along, but it took some time for me to listen.
How have you gotten over heartbreak?
For much of my life, my strategy for getting over heartbreak was to armor up. I don’t have the strength for that anymore. My resistance only magnifies the pain. Now, I invite the full experience of heartbreak to wash over me—and break my heart wide open. Turns out, life is substantially more vibrant when I walk through the world as a softer human.
What makes you cry?
Everything makes me cry—from Little House on the Prairie (every-single-episode!) to a rainbow lighting up a dark sky.
How long does the pride and joy of accomplishing something last for you?
External recognition is certainly intoxicating, but what endures for me are accomplishments that make a positive difference—in the biggest or smallest of ways. To write a story that creates space in the world for new conversations. To create a brand that brings the right community together. These are accomplishments that I can return to, where pride and joy are ever accessible and expansive.
Do you believe in an afterlife, and if so, what does that look like to you?
I was raised with a colorful view of the afterlife! Based on the Christian narrative, our church leader (who referred to himself as an end-time prophet) took many liberties in how he depicted heaven and hell. To him, heaven was a crystal pyramid—hidden inside the moon. Loved ones who had passed away played harpsichords or flew across the sky hand-in-hand while they awaited the ultimate reunion. We were even taught exact measurements of this space city. (Never mind that this would have heaven popping out of the moon like a party hat.)
In my years living in Asia, I also absorbed the Buddhist and Shinto narratives of the afterlife: reincarnation and that kami exist in everything. Being exposed to different faiths in my most formative years makes me comfortable with ambiguity today—and keen to understand other perspectives. I make it a practice to explore what’s common among various ideas and beliefs.
These days, I am more interested in the mystery of the afterlife than imagining a particular version of it. What I do hold onto is the possibility that something akin to boundless love awaits us. Who knows how that will manifest. That’s the great mystery!
What do you hate most about yourself?
I don’t hate anything. But I do have to guard myself against an onslaught of messages that tell me I’m not enough. Click an ad for eye cream one minute, and the next I’m served up ads on eye blepharoplasty. This is sobering—as a parent of impressionable teenagers and as a professional in the creative industry. It takes a lot of courage to love ourselves these days.
What do you love most about yourself?
That I’m deeply curious about life and the human experience. It makes it much easier to get out of bed every morning.
What is your absolute favorite meal?
A cup of Earl Grey tea (with milk) and croissant is a whole meal, yes?
The post What Matters to Anique Mautner appeared first on PRINT Magazine.