Let's try this again

Long time no see! You're getting this because you were getting my Motivated Mastery newsletter years ago. I'm starting a Substack to write again—and more.

Yo! I’m Paul Jun.

You might remember me from my work at CreativeMornings, as a coach for Seth Godin’s The altMBA, or my work at the agency COLLINS. I also co-created The Observers, a publication about photobooks. Maybe I took your portrait. Or you maybe read my old blog from 2010-2019, Motivated Mastery (RIP), and my book Connect the Dots.

(If this somehow made it into your inbox and you don't remember anything I just said above... I’m very sorry.) UNSUBSCRIBE is at the end of the email. I tried to move it up, but alas, no options avail. I AM SORRY!

In 2021, I shut down my blog. The pandemic was like yanking the e-brake on life. I had grown jaded as a writer and needed time to question everything. I lost touch with writing and felt the unnecessary burden of publishing. It was a solid nine years of writing and thinking, and it helped me get jobs, meet people, and practice my craft. But I had to shed dead skin.

Recently, I shared my desire to write more (again) with a few close friends, but on Substack. I like the community here.

What I have now that I didn’t when I started in 2010 is a well of experience and, accordingly to colleagues and peers, spicy opinions mixed with thoughtful analysis on topics like creativity, design, brand building, careers, strategy, writing, culture, tech, and life.

My friend Sean Blanda is one of the most intelligent and honest people I know. He helped shape my writing career in 2010. Anytime I make a big career move or think of a side project, I ask for his advice.

I’ve been thinking about this for almost a year! Jeez.

That was all the validation I needed to start again. (Also, thanks to Nick Ace, Justin Seymour, Emerline Ji, Minnow Park, Peter Jun, Wesley Verhoeve, Jeffrey Phillips, Mark Johnson, Michael Casebolt, Naomi Otsu, and countless others who encouraged me to do this again.)

How could I show up more honestly and vulnerably in my writing? Because in the past, all of my old blogs were copies of something already successful. I so desperately wanted to be like BrainPickings or Farnam Street or Tim Ferris. My failed mimicry was good self-education, but it wasn’t true to the life I sought as an artist.

Writing online has changed. There is an expectation that you have to be polite about everything. You have to lay out all the nuances before you make a point to avoid offense. I promise you I don’t care about any of that. A writer can be critical and spicy but should not be demeaning. I can point at flaws, patterns, or cultures and identify something others don’t have the words for—but feel in their gut. I respect writers that share strong opinions or know how to “punch up” with criticism to push people to imagine a different future and to get better.

I recently combed through my commonplace book and found this gem of wisdom from a favorite writer, Anne Lamott.

"If you have this thing inside of you, if you're not writing, then you're not whole. You have to ask yourself, 'How alive am I willing to be?' And if you're willing to be really alive, then you've got to write your truth. You've got to tell your stories."

Artwork by Naomi Otsu

What the hell is Kimchi & Gabagool?

I’m a first-generation Korean American born and raised in (North) New Jersey. Recently, I’ve learned to appreciate my upbringing and be more curious about the lives of other Asian Americans and children of immigrants. Growing up, I didn’t care because I wanted to fit in.

Turns out, we all have similar experiences: feeling ashamed, out of place, bullied, held to insane standards of excellence, and relying on hip-hop, sports, or video games to fit in.

The one difference uniquely tailored to me that I cherish: I remember eating gabagool (capicola) and fresh mutz at friends’ houses—marinara is Sunday gravy—and, by night, sitting on the floor cross-legged eating rice, kimchi, and Spam with my old-school Korean parents. I played football, got into many fights, almost became a pro gamer, rode BMX bikes with the troublemakers, and failed through high school and college. I had many friends just ten minutes away that grew up in the hood.

I’ve learned to feel fortunate for how I grew up and all the realities I saw—the families that let me into their lives and how this would shape my life. I saw extreme wealth and heartbreaking poverty. I clawed out of Jersey, taught myself how to write and design, devoured books, built a creative career, and made it this far through incredible luck.

Why, I thought, don’t I allow this to show up in my writing?

So, to name this new endeavor, I asked myself: What two foods represent me?

Alas… Kimchi & Gabagool 🤌

Why read anything I have to say?

I’ve had a weird career as a writer.

From leading the marketing and content for the world’s largest creative community; growing and sending a weekly newsletter to 250k people; building campaigns for notable brands; interviewing legends in photography about photobooks; becoming a photographer and almost switching careers; building Seth Godin’s altMBA program and coaching 300 students around the world; telling the untold stories in design for a globally renowned brand agency, and contributing to rebrands like Robinhood, Crane, Clubhouse, Match.com, The Seaport in NYC, and The San Francisco Symphony.

Today, I’m the Principal Creative Director at Mixpanel (the rebrand launched in 2023).

I’m a writer and photographer, so my job is to pay attention to the world. Having worked in tech, startups, agencies, freelance, and non-profits, I can connect the dots in ways that a more linear career can’t. I can glean some useful ideas, insights, and patterns that hopefully are useful for ambitious creatives looking to become great at what they do and lead a life they are proud of.

I promise it’ll be sweet and spicy.

Like kimchi & gabagool.