11/26 Part of our role as parents is to make the kids uncomfortable. They don’t enjoy it, but we can’t let them settle into a bad local optima. (that afternoon, we took the training wheels off his bike)
11/23 Life is funny, it takes you places. I play a part by going along. But I tend towards the passive. Most likely comes from my mom.
11/20 I write lists. Making tasks visible lets me manipulate them. Maybe even cross shit without doing them (because I realize they’re unimportant). I do love my lists. Be careful about procrastinating by list. Do the work!
This time last year, there was a magical moment on Post.news as people escaped the chaos of the recently acquired Twitter.
It was a wonderful holiday season as we enjoyed and explored each others’ art. I rediscovered my drawing hand, which had atrophied from decades of fear. They encouraged me to keep exploring poetry. Post freed me to make bad art, which might not sound special, but it’s eons ahead of doing nothing.
I’m not sure what went wrong (maybe their focus on news and opinion?) but the magic dissipated in the early months of the new year. I miss those folks, but most of them have also moved on, and I don’t have time to be online everywhere.
Fortunately Substack stepped in to fill the void. This community has been generous with encouragement and relentlessly inspiring with the endless publishing of amazing work. It’s a place to stretch and play.
When I joined Post last Thanksgiving, I took a photo of our freshly reinstalled Christmas tree to be the banner image of my user account (it’s still there). This morning, that tree is back up as we enter into another holiday season.
What will the new year bring? Who knows. Maybe I’ll actually bang out some good art. Whatever’s. I’ll settle for sharing more bad art. A second year of making would be an accomplishment in this topsy-turvy world.
In the meantime, thanks for the company; let’s hope this party lasts a bit longer.
It sharpens my thinking. Writing squeezes out the slop in a stray notion.
Sharing for the future. My work isn’t best-in-class, but it’s not worthless. A future reader might find threads of silver amongst the dross. That person might be me.
To get better at writing. Posting publicly hones the craft. Leveling up can be its own joy (and help with work emails and memos.)
For the company, to be part of a conversation and contribute to the zeitgeist. It’s fun to get responses and comments.
Blogging is an exercise of whispering into the hurricane. My practice is more about self improvement than broadcasting. The reception of others are a fickle shadow. The privilege is in doing work.
In the moment it isn’t easy fun like watching a video, but I find a deeper joy through all parts of the process, drafting, editing, posting. Why else would I do this for fifteen years?
If I had to start over, here are the pens I’d get in order.
Pilot Kakuno, Extra Fine
Pilot Parallel, 3.8mm
FPR Muft, Ultraflex nib
Sailor Fude De Mannen, 40 degrees
FPR Muft, Architect Nib
Notes:
I love the smiley face on the nib. Just need to get a Kaweco Sport clip for my shirt pocket. The Kakuno beat out the Platinum Preppy because of cartridge compatibility with the Parallel if I was to take them both on the road. The Japanese Extra Fine nib takes the top slot because it’s perfect for everyday carry and sketching.
The Parallel is in a Pilot Sign Pen Body and has been used as an eyedropper at home for months without leaks, but I’d use a cartridge if I was traveling (just to be safe).
The FPR Muft had been perfect at home (love the clear eyedropper body) but leaked on the road. I’m curious about the Osprey Madison with a Zebra G nib, but worried about rust. If the road-ability is important I could just use the ultraflex in my FPR Guru (a piston filling pen that didn’t leak when we went on a trip in summer).
The Fude is screwed in a Sailor Compass body. Even though it’s clear, it isn’t eyedropper convertible without epoxy to plug up the body. I like the 40 degree nib slightly better than the 55 degree nib but I’m exploring other Fude Pens, so this may change.
This Architect nib lays a beautiful bold line that goes skinny on a dime. And yes, it’s great for architectural lettering.
I’m still trying to figure out what to do with my morning pages. Or even whether to bother.
It’s good to just blather. Get shit off my chest like the day after 10/7. Maybe it’s self therapy? And there’s always the ubiquitous Things To Do list.
But sometimes it’s a chore to hit three pages. So I just shoot for two. The first flip between the first and second pages is a great mind wipe, but I feel like I’m just burning ink and killing trees to fill up page three.
Julia Cameron says you shouldn’t package the journal for public consumption, but I’ve started roughing out blog posts some mornings. And the last couple of days I jotted some half-baked thoughts that want to be recorded somewhere.
Expectation is the thief of joy.
Not a new concept, just a variation of the Buddhist origin of suffering. My personal insight is that comparison and optimization are also expectations (against others and an idealized perfect). These are all bandits against internal peace.
With work and home being so hectic, I need to be more present with the kids. I’m trying out a new pair of personal rules. Our parents never had to wrestle against the allure of a pocket computer.
No Youtube when they’re awake!
Leave the phone upstairs (in the home office)
This also applies to life in general. I need to reduce stream of outside words being implanted into my brain. More jazz, less podcasts.
What is the difference between Craft and Connoisseurship?
Both entail a dissatisfaction with the status quo. But Connoisseurship is unhappiness with others, while Craft is the continual striving for personal improvement. Maybe that’s why I value Craft as a practice while being suspicious of Connoisseurship as a sneaky form of optimization.
Making is an act of faith.
Faith that something “good” will pop out. Or that I’ll learn something for next time.
Last week, I uploaded the letter “Z” of Alphabet Magic, pairing photos of everyday life with sketches of my hand forming the ASL manual alphabet.
Just another post, but I couldn’t let it pass without comment.
I took more art studios than architecture studios in college, but stopped drawing over the past two decades; constipated with perfection. After turning forty, I eliminated drawing from of my list of future projects (along with reading Chinese and the Guan Dao kung fu form).
Then Post came online last year. I wanted to help make the place that I wanted to see, so this alphabet series was my contribution. The winter of 2022-2023 was a magical season when quirky artists came together for a mass experiment. (Much as Substack has become a beautiful writer’s oasis).
When it became clear Post management was focused on news and opinion, I hopped over to Substack and turned the drawings into a formal series, pairing it with my contributions to Charlene Storey’s weekly thread of “everyday magic”.
Twenty-six weeks later I’ve posted half a year of hands and magic.
So what next? Well I have plenty more hands. After joining Substack, Wendy MacNaughton hosted a 30 day sketching challenge around the same time Ashlyn Ashantee got me really into fountain pens. So I kept drawing with hatching and new wacky nibs.
Next week, I’ll start the second series, with a bit more variety, still with a pop of everyday magic, but with less alliterative titles. Maybe I’ll throw in the occasional calligraphy experiment and zine (inspired by a conversation with d.w. and John Ward on Notes).
In home, school, or work, I’ve learned that projects start with promise, grind through midlife, and shutter with little fanfare. But I’ve also learned that the anticipation of triumph will eventually realized in retrospect long after the moment has faded.
As I mature, I’m slowly embracing the process. It’s a privilege to draw. It’s a privilege to do anything beyond the bare necessities. It’s a privilege to share — thanks for reading!
The results are up to the fickle gods, but we can always exhilarate in the chase.
At the start of 2023 I got back into using fountain pens after a long hiatus after finishing Berkeley. The ink in my bottle of Waterman Green had dried out so I revived it with water.
A couple of weeks ago, I decided to focus on finishing this bottle so I took it out of the dark storage box and left it on the desk.
Yesterday I realized there was a little white mold floating on the surface!
I’m most likely too cheap for my own good, but I refilled up a couple eyedroppers that already had this green in their barrels and pulled out a brush to burn through the rest. As you can see, the green had morphed to an interesting dark teal.
I suspect I got this bottle while still in high school, so it’s been with me for more than a quarter century. It’s now empty and washed.
Given my morning pages and sketches, I suspect this old buddy will be all gone in a week.
This is a great little survey of what’s possible with this medium. Hobbs picked a variety of artists and provided thoughtful commentary on each of his picks.
As I get deeper into sketching, this book is a definite keeper. It’s nice to have an overview of all the different approaches in a single volume. Seeing the multiplicity of technical skills makes the practice less intimidating than studying the work of a single master.
I got mine for $14, but prices fluctuate because it’s out of print. While you fish for a good price, I’ve included the list of artists in the photos below.
Please note that this book is a bit smaller than I expected, so I included a Lamy Safari for scale on a couple photos.
This has been Seth’s mantra over the years. This book is no exception.
It’s a fun read, delightfully nostalgic for someone that live through the internet revolution. Even though this book was about the World Wide Web before social media inhaled the information superhighway, Seth’s encouragement is still as powerful as ever.
Go out there, let it all hang out, and do something.
This book emphasizes “zooming” — acclimating to the difficult art of change. He posits that zooming is a powerfully motivating way to view the world.
This book comes from that short lived genera of collected blog-posts volumes. The world has changed a bit since publication, but it still rhymes with the 00’s, even if things feel a little gloomier.
Seth has been telling the same story for the past three decades.
So if you dig him, check it out. If you don’t, this book won’t change your mind.
With AI, change is coming (again!). What would you do if you knew for certain that what your work today won’t survive the next two decades of disruption? How will you embrace the change that is coming? Are you gonna zoom?
~
One of my favorite riffs is when Godin embarks on an extended discussion about “maybe-proofing” the company. One of the best ways to kill a project flow is to dawdle. Sometimes we should pause and let things develop, but that should be a deliberate choice. As OPM’s, we have to maybe-proof ourselves. Our job is to make choices.
~
In the two years after reading this book, I’ve realized that I’m on the back half of my career. So I’ve lost interest in self-help and Seth has been a casualty of this shift. He’s correct that one needs to embrace change in your career, but I’m not focused on my career anymore.
I will always work hard and dabble with process improvements, but when I’m not at work, I focus on other joys. I no longer feel an urge to to maximize my output or lead the charge to make things better in the office.
~
Some Links
At the end of each month, I often need to use up my quota at Hoopla (a library streaming service). I invariably return to these albums. Two of them are absolute classics. The third is lesser known, though by perennial request by our kids. The fourth is a nod to my weakness for EDM.
Keith Jarrett’s Koln Concert. It’s the best selling solo jazz album of all time, but I’ll switch it up and borrow his Paris Concert which forays into baroque counterpoint.
The Awakening is one of the most sampled albums in hip hop. Recorded in February 1970, it feels like a distinct evolution by the Ahmad Jamal Trio from the bebop of past decades. If I’ve had too much piano lately, I’ll get Way Out West with a unique trio of bass, drums, and saxophone colossus Sonny Rollins.
My kids are obsessed with the “Ballad of Pancho Villa” (which they call “cafe music”) so they always insist on borrowing From All Sides, a collaboration between guitarist Bolo Sete and the Vince Guaraldi Trio.
I recently mentioned Klangphonics for their quirky YouTube shorts. Driving feels better with Songs to Try on the speakers (but it’s not so aggressive to become dangerous).
To excel in life we need to address three gaps — Belief, Value, and Time.
Belief gaps are the deep cause of your underperformance. It’s hard to change ingrained beliefs. Hyrum recommends that you test drive new beliefs by acting “as if” to see if the alternate reality will ultimately change your situation.
Value gaps are your own personal constitution. What matters? So much that they govern your life? How will you prioritize them, to reorient your life?
Hyrum uses the I-Beam thought experiment to test how important something is in your life. What’s worth crossing the Grand Canyon on a little slippery I-beam?
Family
Integrity
Health
Mind
Work / Finances
Making a Difference
Time gaps are where the practical world collies with Belief and Value gaps. His primary recommendation is to start the day with daily “Magic 15 Minutes” exercise.
Quiet Focus
Seek Inspiration
Review Values
Integrate Long Term Goals
List Appointments
List Tasks
Prioritize
That’s it. It’s a two-hour audiobook that took an hour at 2x speed.
I was inclined to like this book since I have a weakness for self help fare and I appreciated that he didn’t bloat the book like many others in this genre.
However, I could argue that his advice is too simplistic. This book is for someone who is already in a good spot and wants an extra edge. Someone in a tough spot has bigger emergencies at hand.
For someone in such a difficult situation, I wonder if such bootstrap advice is comes off insulting. Ultimately, this is generic advice, packaged tightly.
When I wrote the first draft I thought this might be a good book to return to regularly, like John Miller’s QBQ. In reality, I haven’t given it a second thought over the past two years.
