By the end of each project, most of us are READY for it to be over. We’ve spent months or years working through designing, drawing, (sometimes re-designing and re-drawing), overseeing construction with its countless submittals, RFIs, and on-the-spot problem solving. We know this project like the back of our hands, and are ready at a moment’s notice to answer any question thrown our way. Then suddenly, the day comes where it’s just…. over. The paint has dried, the furniture, art, and finishing touches have been installed, and it’s time to hand your project off to the clients. There is an overwhelming feeling of relief – you’ve made it! It’s no longer your responsibility! It’s out there in the world for others to enjoy! But, is it weird to feel a little sad that the process is over?
I am currently about to wrap up a project that has preoccupied a majority of the last ~3.5 years of my career, and while I am ecstatic that the project is finally built, I’ll admit, I’m a little sad it’s ending. I had one of my last site visits earlier this week and am still in awe that the small idea of a design my team worked on all those years ago is now suddenly real and existing in this world. What started with concept images, sketches, renderings, and theoretical discussions has become an actuality. Brought to life by an incredible team from various trades who worked together to create something truly special. And while yes, not ALL of the process was enjoyable **cough door schedules**, **cough 1,000,000 submittal reviews and Bluebeam markups**, we somehow made it to the finish line.
I think it’s a rather humbling moment, seeing a project you worked on be completed. Especially a project you were able to work through all the phases of on. Where the spaces are so engrained in your mind that the project feels like a real person, a friend (or enemy at times). It can also be a bit scary to introduce this project to the world – you feel like you must defend or explain every decision to others. Like “no, that access panel was NOT supposed to be there, but we had to add it because blah, blah, blah…” or “actually, the ceiling transition was supposed to happen here not there because x,y,z…”. Everything about the project feels personal because of the time and effort you put into the process. And now, it’s time to hand it over for someone else to take care of it? If you have any sort of control issues (which I most certainly thing most of us in this field do…), then this is no easy feat.
But what comes next?
Inevitably, there will be a “shoulda, coulda, woulda” phase. You’ll look back and think ‘wow, I really wish we had done this or that differently’. There will be a running list of “lessons learned” haunting you as you begin the next project, and you might wake up in the middle of the night remembering some tiny detail that wasn’t finished correctly. But through all this, it’s important to remember and celebrate what WAS achieved, not what could have been. No project will be 100% accurate to what was drawn or initially designed, and those differences are a testament to the problem-solving, perseverance, and coordination effort between the project teams. At the end of the day, if you can look back and be proud of the work that was built, be proud of the space you’ve created for others to enjoy and experience, then it was all worth it – even that door schedule.
So, take a deep breath, let yourself celebrate a bit, learn from your mistakes, and get ready to start it all over again.
Ashleigh Walker, Assoc. AIA
Associate Director
AIA Virginia Board of Directors