It's 4AM and of course I'm wide awake. My sister and I, along with all of our cousins, arrived in at the Taiwan Taoyuan International Airport at around 4:30AM. The 15-hour flight on the EVA Air Boeing 777 wasn't as bad as I thought it would be, because it's relatively easy to sleep for most of it. They also had a video-on-demand system built-into each seat. The seats, which I had been dreading because I remember Taiwanese airlines packing us into tiny spaces, were actually quite comfortable for my American-sized ass. With the privatization of a lot of industries in the 23 years since I actually lived in Taiwan, there has been a general uptick in the quality of services.
Upon arriving at the Airport I was struck by how different the Visa and Customs process was from how it used to be in the 80s and 90s. I remember it being a tedious affair, with a lot of double-checking of documents and searching of suitcases for taxable goods and forbidden media--Taiwan was under martial law at the time. This time, we walked right through the "No Goods to Declare Line", and to my surprise we were already out in the reception area. As a sign of how times have changed, there was a statue of a persimmon-headed "Free WiFi" man checking his email instead of an M16-toting Chinese soldier covering the exits. Our group, consisting of nearly all the US-based cousins, immediately converged upon the statue and started to check our various Internet accounts and busting out the digital SLRs. As I learned at my Grandfather's memorial service 9 years ago, apparently our obsession with gadgets is descended from Grandpa, who had been a leader in adopting new technologies in his Church, such as the use of amplification to extend his voice to large congregations. Grandma's memorial service will provide more insights on Saturday; an English-language program will be broadcast over an FM-radio transmitter for the benefit of the English-speaking grandchildren by one of our older relatives. We are in good company.
The high speed rail system in Taiwan cuts the trip between 208-mile Taipei-Kaohsiung trip from around 5 hours to about 90 minutes for about $15. The trip would be even longer by car. We took the train to Taichung, which is about halfway between, to be met by our Dad. This was the first time I've taken a high-speed train, and it's impressively smooth. The one downside is that they don't serve the boxed lunches based on Japanese BentÅ boxes, but I mentioned this to Dad when we got home and he got some for dinner. Not quite the same, but still part of what I had missed about the place.
There are little things that stand out to me. For one thing, the Taiwanese sense of color feels just a little bit off, slightly tainted by unappetizing hues. For example, the EVA Air uniform is this kind of muddy green color that is supremely unattractive. The plastics in the appliances and daily consumables aren't coordinated in pleasing ways, which was something that I'd noticed as a kid, and still am struck by as an adult. Maybe it has something to do with the awful fluorescent lighting that is in most homes and stores, or people here just don't notice this kind of thing. Every once in a while I'm struck by an exceptional use of color and material, but in the urban neighborhood I'm in right now it is fairly rare. I'll have to ask Dad if this is a typical neighborhood (we didn't grow up here, so it's still pretty new to me). When I overlook the color issue, though, I'm amazed by the vitality of the integration between small shops, services, and homes. There is an amazing variety of freshly-prepared food that's available from a seeming infinite supply of vendors, block after block, and they all seem busy with the daily routine of living. The emphasis of design, uniqueness, and stylistic expression that we have in nominal amounts in the USA is almost completely absent in this part of the island, drowned out by the visual noise of the utilitarian concrete and tiled buildings. All the building here seem to be covered with bathroom tiles, BTW. Every house, however, seems to have a kind of luxury goods shrine where the collection of finer things resides: bottles of expensive liquor, for example. Luxury brand names are well-known here when it comes to buying gifts and showing wealth. When it comes to everyday things, though, brand seems to be less important, but I may be jumping to a premature conclusion.
There are other things. Bath towels here are not as absorbent, perhaps because they contain more synthetic content. Toilet paper is thinner and tends to come in square packages like napkins in the US. Scooters are everywhere, ridden by people of all ages and physical prowess without fear of death as a practical mode of transportation. Appliances are lightly-built and scaled-down compared to what we have in the States. And yet it is all familiar and alive. I think back of our malls and office buildings in suburban America, and it all seems so rigid now. However, there is one import into Taiwan that I've never seen before: massive displays of graffiti and other signs of tagging. I don't ever recall public displays of anarchy before, probably because the former military government's imposition of martial law would have come down harshly on the perpetrators. A more permeable Taiwanese society is apparently allowing world underground culture to seep in.
Tomorrow we'll be taking the car to Tainan, where we'll meet up with the rest of our relatives in preparation for tomorrow's memorial service. For now, I'm going to try to catch some more sleep.
After months of suspending my blogging activity for a year-long project, I'm somewhat at a loss at what to do next. I can think of plenty of things to do, mind you---getting back to work on the various productivity forms updates, for example---but I want to make sure that I'm doing the right things that will point me in a satisfying work-life direction. And so, I find myself at a crossroads. I could continue to pursue interesting interactive design work based on the last gig. I could also define a new type of design boutique based around storytelling, a theme that I've been pursuing for the past several years but haven't yet defined in a market-friendly manner. I also want to figure out how to work as a writer, traveling around and meeting interesting people as a kind of wandering design minstrel, regaling a select audience of people with ballads about people overcoming obstacles through the pursuit of their secret dreams.
As I write this, I realize that it's largely a matter of just starting somewhere and putting together some website material that explains what I'm doing in a cogent manner, taking care to highlight obvious points where I can add to the endeavors of future colleagues. But before that can happen, I will be visiting Taiwan to attend my grandmother's memorial service. I have mixed feelings about this trip because Taiwan has been a place where I have never felt comfortable because of language and cultural barriers. However, I'm optimistic that this trip will provide insight into family and purpose while allowing me to re-engage some of those old ghosts. This trip also gives me an opportunity to test my mobile office configuration, currently consisting of my MacBook Pro, Skype, some Lamy fountain pens, a Cachet 9x12" spiral bound notebook, and plenty of camera gear.
Right now I'm at Gate 123 of the Tom Bradley International Terminal at LAX, waiting to board a 14 hour flight to Taipei, where we'll be met by one of my uncles to take the high speed rail to Taichung, where Dad will meet my sister and I. It's been 9 years since I've been back to Taiwan, and I'm at that age (40+) where I'm expected to have made something of myself either by career achievement OR by having successfully reproduced. Measuring myself on that scale, my de-facto age is probably more like 28 :-)
I've got a friend, J, who is studying to become a doctor in the Washington D.C. area. Since she works almost all the time and we haven't talked much recently, we started trading snippets of everyday stories for fun. So yesterday, J is working at a senior living facility, where she is volunteering while school is out, and she had a personal epiphany that moved me to tears while I was sitting here at Starbucks. She's graciously allowed me to share her words here:
So, I have a story to tell you. Yesterday I went to volunteer in this senior living facility. I do a free blood pressure check-up for the residents there once a week there. Because the facility is an apartment for the seniors with the amenities geared towards senior living rather than a nursing home, the residents are pretty in good shape. However, one of the patients obviously did not look normal but rather disabled. He had a disproportionately large head compared to his torso, even more so when compared to his legs. His torso was so hunched over forward, he reminded me of the Hunchback of Notre Dame. On top of that, he couldn't walk well even with the walker. His lips were open constantly and he drooled. His hands were permanently deformed due to the neurological damage which caused contractures. Hope you get the picture.
I glimpsed him walking (rather, dragging himself) into the room and felt a little bit of repulsion in my gut because he just didn't look like a human to be honest. He walked in and sat down on a chair next to me while I was checking other residents' BP which took a good 10 minutes. When it was his turn to take BP, he mumbled something and showed me his note book. He couldn't even speak right so I had a hard time understanding him. He kept saying the same thing repeatedly, and finally I figured it out. It was that he drew a profile of me in his note book while he was waiting and he wanted to give it to me when he was finished. It was so touching that I almost had teary eyes. In the drawing, there were crude outlines of me which occupied half of the page. The lines were so zig-zag that it was hard to tell what it was at first glance. Yet, when I looked more closely, there was the eye, the nose, the lips and even the glasses I was wearing. The face was colored with red and yellow crayon which were the only color in the drawing. It might be just my own imagination but I could tell this person in the drawing surely is an Asian. When I looked at the drawing I could feel my heart wringing in my chest and ache. Here was this person, who didn't even look like a human to me, who had the talent and the kind heart to draw me and give it to me!
It turned out that he used to be a painter and he still enjoys it. I asked him whether he could show me some more drawings in the notebook. When he flipped through his notebook, there were pages after pages full of peoples faces all with the familiar zig-zag lines, yet with well-captured features. A chubby-faced boy with lots of freckles, a middle aged African-American lady, the security guard of the apartment, and so on. And he told me who these people were in his notebook. Some he saw in the emergency room a couple weeks ago, some were fellow residents, some were visitors, etc... He made me realize how shallow, calculating, judgmental I was. I failed to see past the person's outside. I forgot that there is a soul in every human being no matter what kind of physical state he is in. It was amazing how one little drawing could change me so much and so deeply. It was amazing.
I reflected on this story for many long minutes, sniffling quietly, and was newly amazed at how every small interaction with another person can lead to...well, I don't know what to call it. A connection? A change? Maybe it's a reminder that so long we have the capacity to recognize a genuine gesture from someone's heart, or to have the ability to express in that same way, we create the opportunity for something amazing? I have myself been going through an identity crisis of late, and have been hyper-aware of my barriers and preconceptions. I've been more self-conscious than usual---or perhaps it's more accurate to say that I've reverted to an old self-consciousness---as I've tried to work out what it is that's been bothering me and define a course of action to correct it. J's story reminds me that this is all in my head, and that if I can be open to what is out there, I'll find amazing people and experiences just like this, hidden behind doors I wouldn't ordinarily open. It could be that simple.
But there I go, introspecting again about myself. Thank you, J, for sharing that special moment with those of us who needed to hear it and didn't even know it.
I've been on the road for over a week now, travelling around California for business and pleasure. The business: the museum test of the interactive exhibit technology that I've been working on with Inquirium, a learning sciences and design firm I've worked with in the past. The pleasure: celebrating the 40th birthday of high school buddy and former co-conspirator Mark Kern.
The problem: Mark's chocolate lab Chloe, a bouncy 4-month old puppy with an admirable enthusiasm for visitors.
On the very first day in California, Chloe joyfully knocked my Macbook Pro out of my lap and onto Mark's lovely hardware floor. It didn't seem to land that hard, so I thought nothing of it. But I noticed that the machine had started to act very sluggish. After killing some processes and determining it wasn't some weird network-related thing, it turned out that the operating system was locking up because the hard drive was unable to read data from the hard drive reliably. In other words, the computer was hosed, along with all my work applications and data. The dog was not blamed or punished, as it wasn't her (or anyone's fault), but it did mean that I was doomed to enjoy my time in Southern California without doing a lick of work. In a way it is a good real-world test of my mobile development setup. This is the first time I've lost a hard drive to an accident like this; better it happen while I'm in California than, say, Costa Rica. I would have preferred that this didn't happen before travelling to San Jose for 10 days of intensive development work. I was also pretty much offline until Tuesday night.
AppleCare Not
When I got to San Jose, my cousin Ben arranged for an appointment at the Apple Store Genius Bar, but ultimately they could not do what I wanted: give me rapid hard drive replacement and allow me to keep my old hard drive to recover my data. Apple Store policy, apparently, is to exchange hard drives; someone told me that Apple refurbs the returned drives and uses them again, but I can't confirm this personally. Plan B was a visit to Mac Pro, an independent Apple Macintosh store that's been around since 1988. I'd visited them for the first time a few months ago, because they just happened to be the exclusive North American distributor for those nifty Levertigo 17" MacBook Pro Bags I was eying, and were conveniently nearby. Mac Pro's staff were friendly and pretty helpful, and they possessed that fine balance between critical geeky competency and a desire to help their customers without making a lot of excuses. I had them take care of the laptop for me over the next two days while I was on-site at the museum. Though I could have waited until I got home and done an AppleCare exchange, I decided to just bite the bullet and get a new hard drive, upping the capacity to 320GB in the process. I used a SATA-to-USB drive interface to recover my data from the old disk, and restored a Windows XP bootable partition--yes, I'm running Windows XP on my MBP through Boot Camp. Although all my creative apps await restoration when I return home, all my source code and assets are on my Subversion server, and I was able to re-install Visual Studio 2005 without mishap.
One other good thing came out of this experience: the discovery of Portable Thunderbird for my email needs. I was without my own computer for a week, but I did have a 4GB USB thumb drive. With Portable Thunderbird, you can install your entire email program on a USB drive and carry your account profiles with you. While it's a little sluggish compared to having the app installed on your hard drive, it's very usable for day-to-day email checking. You can get a lot more open source apps from PortableApps website, such as Open Office Portable, Pidgin (formally Gaim) Portable, Firefox Portable, and The Gimp Portable. I'm pretty excited about Pidgin, the multi-protocol Instant Messaging client, because I can now have one master instant messenger setup that I can use on whatever computer I happen to be on. And even better: when I upgrade my computer, I won't have to lose all my logs and re-setup. That's a pain in the ass.
Hanging Out at the San Jose Tech Innovation Museum
As I'd mentioned in past posts, I've been working with Inquirium to create an interactive museum exhibit technology platform based on 3D motion tracking cameras and a high-end graphics PC. One of Inquirium's contacts got us into an unused part of the San Jose Tech Museum of Innovation, complete with a small video projector and screen, which is just right for our test. The museum staff has also been super-friendly and accomodating despite all the other stuff they have to do, providing us with some space and running cables for us.
On the technology itself: we have been able to use the infrared illuminators we got from Fry's Electronics to improve the 3D camera tracking accuracy without washing out the projector screen, though it's still prone to jittering and false positives. We think we can tune the interaction and jump detection further, but our greatest challenge is the small size of the interaction area. To accomodate dozens of kids flowing through the space, we'll have to make some adjustments to our expectations of how to best manage traffic through adaptive interaction while retaining our commitment to delivering our core message in a non-superficial way. That's what the rest of this week will be about. We've also learned a lot about the kind of code development we need to tackle next to support the next phase of interactive prototyping. I'm looking forward to writing that up.
The San Jose Tech Museum, AKA "The Tech", is itself very cool; it's been a while since I've visited any science and technology museum, the Boston Museum of Science nearby. I haven't been to the MOS in quite some time, but I remember it being a somewhat cramped and dark space. The Tech, by comparison, has a very light and open hub by the entrance, with each floor running its own warren of technology-based activities. I haven't really had a chance to spend much time with the exhibits there yet, though in my quick run through I saw several things I wanted to try, like a video-feed controlled submersible ROV in an enormous fish tank, a simulated space walk chair that uses jets of compressed air position yourself under a satellite, and a whack a spam machine situated in the informative yet festive Internet exhibit. There are also permanent exhibits on Invention and Innovation, which are subjects close to my heart; in particular, there are some life-size pictures of actual inventors photographed against white backgrounds with some words about what they do. I found the presentation to be striking while humanizing the invention process. I don't know if kids would be as moved, but I certainly was. Next time I'm out on the west coast I should also check out The Exploratorium up in San Francisco, now that I actually have met someone that works there.
Insights Away from Home
Five years ago I would have said that the part of New England I'm from suits my temperament best:
people are naturally reserved and keep their distance
we have real contrast in our seasons
the likelihood of earthquakes, tidal waves, poisonous snakes, tornados, tarantulas, scorpions is very low
Surprisingly, I find the San Jose area growing on me. It might be the combination of Fry's Electronics, plentiful quality asian food, nearby relatives, and the mildly warm weather in comparison to the long winter. The ethnic diversity is also refreshing. There are also a lot more people here, and I'm finding that the relaxed atmosphere coupled with the high density of geek culture in Sillicon Valley rather attractive. I am missing home, though, because I have the nagging feeling that I've my life back home is "on-hold" while I'm out here working. While it's only been two weeks, this is the longest amount of time I've been away since 2000, when I flew to Taiwan for my grandfather's funeral. My friend Erin and I have a theory about "experiencing the true nature of a place" that relates to this: it takes at least two weeks to feel like you're "there", so you need to commit to at least four weeks before you'll know what it's like to live there. On this trip, I'm also finding it takes about ten days for me to start really missing home, and I think this helps corroborate the theory for my own use. I'd like to experience more places over longer periods of time. I think this might help reveal who I really am, whatever that means.
Also, while having the day-to-day continuity with real live people is really important to me, this trip has made me aware that there are "anchoring activities" that I can bring with me wherever I go and still feel pretty good:
I can write to people: Without a working computer, I realized that of all the things I do the most, it's writing to people. It's impulsive and obsessive and a source of feeling connected. Being without a computer has been tough, but mostly because I have been out of touch with people. Because I've been so busy also, I haven't maintained the regular dialog with whoever is out there listening. The urge to communicate is, I believe, my passion. It doesn't matter what I'm communicating, so long as some connection is made and ideas are conveyed across it authentically.
I can take pictures: Taking pictures helps me remember places, and relate my experience when I email them later. I need to add video to the mix. As I edit and arrange the imagery at night, I find myself reliving the experience. This is kind of relaxing...it might be the closest thing I have to a hobby. Digital photography combines my enthusiasm for instant results while providing the raw resources for later reflection. It also gets me out of the house to look for new experiences.
So if there's a remote job I could do, it might be as a journalist for my own publication (this blog) and so long I had regular contact with the important people in my life, I might have a good time.
Resuming Life
There are a bunch of projects I left dangling at home that I want to pick up again: the gospel music project, for example, has been on my mind quite a bit as I've been listening to different kinds of music on the road. A couple realizations---that gospel music needs to be singable by a church congregation imposes a certain structure, and that you can get away with some pretty simple verses---has me itching to get back to it. I also miss my cats and my regular routine at the coffee shop and the gym; there's a certain "cat energy" and "friend energy" that I guess helps power me through the day. Weird. Lastly, I saw myself in some photographs and I realized that despite improved cardiovascular endurance, I'm still way too fat. Certainly, my mental body image does not match what I see in photographs, and I am finding this extremely annoying and somewhat depressing. So I'm thinking of initiating some kind of intensive regimen to see what I can get done in a month, just to see what it's like.
I'm still going to be on the road for a while, so all this will have to wait for a week.
I'm in the San Jose area, staying near The Pruneyard in Campbell. Although it's another busy work week, I'm carving out some evening time and weekend time to hang out with people and gabber! My mobility is pretty restricted so I am thinking of just hanging out at The Pruneyard, which is walkable for me. I understand that there's some stuff in downtown San Jose too, so I might be able to just take a cab someplace if I know where to go. I am not familiar with this area at all.
Weekday Evening Plans
For the evenings, Wednesday and Friday this week are available, so if anyone wants to hang out around 6:30PM or so and catch a bite, we can meet at The Pruneyard here in Campbell, perhaps at the Barnes and Noble Cafe (actually, I don't know if there's one there, but there is stuff to look at) or at The Coffee Society, since I know where that is now from the last hangout.
WEDNESDAY UPDATE: I met with Pradeep and Terry from around 630PM to 900PM, and I had a good time chatting with them about a variety of subjects ranging from the ethnic experience in America, Scott McCloud's most recent book Making Comics, our comic engineering backgrounds and how they've affected how we look at life, and a bit of story swapping about how we happened to get to where we are.
FRIDAY UPDATE: Looking forward to Friday's get-together, probably somewhere in downtown San Jose by the look of things right now, with Jakob, Karen, Kai, and whoever else might want to spend a few hours of hanging out. Stay tuned for location and time.
Weekend Plans
For Saturday or Sunday, I am mostly working, but will make some time free in the afternoon, perhaps lunch to early evening on Sunday. It really depends on transportation and who's interested. Unfortunately I can't spend the whole day out, so there's a 3-4 hour cap on total time. My mobility options are again limited. If this light rail option works out (it looks like it's about a 20 minute walk from where I am) then this frees things up considerably.
SUNDAY UPDATE: I'm hoping to meet up with Fred, an industrial designer, sometime in the afternoon.
Assemble the Fleet!
Anyway, if anyone is interested in hanging out on those particular days, let me know! Looking forward to meeting old friends and making new ones :-) No agenda, other than shooting the breeze, maybe collaborating on something quick and fun.
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Just a quick note: I'll be in San Jose, California (Campbell, to be more precise) from March 25 to March 31st for work. I'll be quite close to The Pruneyard (walking distance, even), where we had a small geeky gathering over coffee and food. If you're in the area and would like to hang out some evening, leave a comment or shoot me an email with your cell number. I'm not sure what day it will be; it sort of depends on how the work goes.
I have a terrible memory for names and faces, so I tried to take as many short video clips as I could to help me remember. I edited the segments together into a 14-minute video to convey my SXSW experience. Next year I may have to actually bring a real video camera instead; this was shot with my Fuji FinePix F30d compact digital camera.
The video service I'm using, Viddler, allows people to annotate the video with tags and comments at specific places in the video stream, so have at it :-) I will tag the video with names when I get a bit more time, or you can tag yourself! :-) Viddler, unlike a lot of services, also retains the quality of the video; note that the graininess of this clip is because I shot at low resolution under low-light conditions with a digital camera, so that's my fault. The cool thing was that Viddler's servers didn't recompress the already bad video (like YouTube would), since I uploaded it as a Flash Video (.flv) file.
UPDATE: BTW, if you're on this video and don't want to be, let me know and I will re-edit. So far everyone has been very cool, thanks!
South By Southwest (SXSW) was, once again, an energizing experience that reminded me that there is a lot of crazy people doing crazy things out there that just might work. It is the best thing, ever. However, the experience also overstimulates me, so when I got back home last night I immediately vegged out in front of the TV, watching Eli Stone, Bones, and King of the Hill back-to-back.
This was the third year attending the festival, but it's the first one that I didn't feel particularly hurried. I took my time, and didn't go to every panel. I didn't worry about not meeting everyone, and I didn't worry that much about not being as social as I wanted to be. I essentially accepted my introverted nature while allowing myself to be drawn into other people's worlds. Last year I berated myself for not being more proactive, but this time around I didn't let it bother me that much.
Since this was my third year, I was looking forward to see what conclusion I would draw about SXSW, since it takes three experiences for me to form an opinion I can stand behind. It's related to the way I make observations: first time is just imprinting on what I find interesting; this is a continual process. The second time, I notice that I've felt this interest before, which makes me curious about the root cause. After that, I am in "collection" mode, looking for enough data points to support or discount my theories. It takes at least three data points for me to extrapolate a first set of assumptions; successive data points continue to refine or create new underlying models.
There is one definitive conclusion I can draw right off the cuff: SXSW keeps me in touch with sources positive creative energy, and it has so far renewed me every year. I didn't even realize I was running low on this until I boarded the plane back to New Hampshire and realized that the further away I was getting from Austin, the grayer I felt. My fellow passengers on the plane had different lives, probably quite stable and interesting in their own right, but very local. By the time I landed in Manchester, I was fully aware that now any such creative energy would have to be created by myself. At SXSW, there is so much of the stuff concentrated in one place that it takes no effort to tap into it. There is so much talent, so much creative diversity, and so much sheer possibility that you take it for granted. It is hard to explain. I imagine that some parts of the country are just like this with their close creative communities. If you've ever worked with a great product team, been in a really outstanding art department, or worked in a tight-knit research group you might know what I'm talking about. Back home, in my cluttered office, I'm cut off from that energy again. To get it back, I have to build my own sources of it.
It takes a certain mix of people to build that energy, and making it self-sustaining for an entire year will take a certain level of commitment to building that structure. We've seen over the past few years dozens of Barcamp and Refresh grassroots organizations take seed, which is awesome. I'm curious how to create a broader experience beyond technology and new media, though. It is an interesting puzzle that I'll be trying to crack with the other social-minded geeks in the area.
I also had an insight about personal branding and business cards, and it's probably not what you think. As I met and chatted with people around SXSW, what would typically happen is this:
With past SXSW acquaintances: "Dude! Good to see you again! What's up?" We exchange cards as memory tokens, a promise to our future self to keep in better contact throughout the year. We take note of what's changed since the last time we met: a new job, maybe a new venture or a positive contribution to whatever community they belong to.
With readers of the blog: "Hi Dave! I'm a fan of your blog and I just wanted to say hi!" To which I would respond with a sheepish smile and say, "Really? It's awesome to meet you! What do you do? Neat! Give me a card! Can you tell me, out of my own curiosity, what it is you like about the blog? I'm trying to figure out why people read it." I'd happily exchange business cards with them, and make a note to see what they were up to. I liked these interactions the most.
With people who have heard of my work: "Oh, Dave Seah, it's great to meet you. I've seen your work. Tried it for a while even, good stuff." This would happen often through an introduction by someone I knew. Since I am not one to readily mention work I've done (I know, bad bad bad), often the person I was with would say something like, "Dave's the guy who made The Printable CEO bubble thing". From here, a conversation would start based on the level of enthusiasm displayed. Cards are of course exchanged.
With complete strangers: "Nice to meet you, Dave. So what is it that you do?" Polite and friendly conversation ensue, and cards are exchanged to remember the encounter by.
With OLPC fans: "Is that one of those $100 laptops? I've never seen one. Wow, it is so small and cute. How do you like it?" I was one of the few people carrying these around and trying to use them. Carrying around an OLPC XO laptop at a conference like this is just like bringing a puppy to the park. The nicest people came up to me and asked about it. People who recognize this laptop are the generally ones that are socially conscious, sympathetic to the cause, and are really nice. If the conversation ended up being about more than the laptop, we'd exchange cards.
Business cards, at a conference/festival like SXSW, serve as access points to our websites more than anything, and that's because we can find out a lot more about the people we just met. And why does this matter? It's because we want to make a GOOD social/business contact; at SXSW, the chance that this will happen is many times higher than the typical networking event in your home town. The people at SXSW generally are passionate about what they do, or they want to be. These are people who I would like to have friendships with. Friendship matters.
My eureka moment was that I should be designing my website to make friendship that much easier to establish. As I look back at the evolution of this blog, one of the constants has been the way I tend to write as if I'm writing to my friends. And if you ARE reading this blog every day, we probably COULD be friends. Which leads me to the following blog and content design principle: I am not interested that interested in marketing my services on my website just for money. What I am doing is friend-focused marketing. Make it easy for people to see what I've done, what I'm interested in, and who else I'm talking to or working with on interesting project. Above all, practice good friendship by being generous with what I can give, being authentic, and showing instead of just saying. And to close the social networking loop, make it easy for my friends to introduce me to their friends.
There's a lot more to this than meets the eye, so I will probably write more about the design concept as I start looking at my site. Should be quite interesting.
A good friend of mine recently went to London, and on return announced she'd gotten me a present that was not very "London", but was likely very "Dave". I was in San Jose at the time, however, and had to wait a week until I got to see it, which gave me plenty of time to think of what it might be. Gifts are an interesting window into friendship, as they give you an idea of how you are being perceived. In the worst case they are way off the mark, but in the best case they illuminate something that's more fundamental and perhaps unexpected.
When I finally got to see what it was, I was somewhat surprised to see it was a leather notebook. I'm super picky about notebooks and stationery, so this was a bold move (though I doubt it was realized at the time of selection). I am a fan of sturdy tightly-bound journals and durable papers; my current favorite carry-around is the Moleskine Reporter format. The new notebook was pretty much the opposite of my Moleskine. It was just a sleeve of hand-tooled leather, decorated with repeating die stamps. A sheaf of fluffy textured paper was cut to fit into the sleeve, and held in place with a long string that was punched through the spine in three places, which also wrapped around the entire notebook to keep it tidy. After the initial surprise wore off, I was struck by the idea that this notebook binding might have been the way it was done long ago, and that this could be some kind of replica or artifact. I loved it.
No, it was nothing of the sort; it was just something she saw that she thought I'd like, perhaps because I am constantly hauling out tiny notebooks and am writing in them at the coffee shop. I've been getting away from computers more and more these days when I'm thinking, as I find making marks by hand engages a different part of my brain. I feel more connected to the ideas, and the lack of "undo" makes me more mindful of what I put down. I use my Moleskines as daily working notebooks and have learned to treat them as "sacred scrap paper", but this notebook was just the sort of thing I knew I would have great difficulty writing in. The kind of words I would write in such a notebook would have to carry their weight in artfulness or importance. I would hate to blemish such a notebook with anything less.
"You know, I don't know what I would write in this," I admitted as I examined it further. "It's so nice."
"You'll write ideas for stories in it!" my friend proclaimed vigorously. "Things you hear other people say, phrases like that one we keep wanting to use...uh, what was it..."
"It was 30 degrees above warm?"
"Yep, phrases like that! And other ones that you come up with." And that was the end of the discussion.
It's not very often that I get a present that so successfully combines so many personal quirks and goals into one package, so I was doubly-impressed. Of course I didn't want to use any old crappy pen, so I started looking around for a nice fountain pen that I could carry with me along with the notebook. I found that Pilot makes a $1.89 disposable fountain pen that apparently writes fairly well and would be a good test. I tried my local Staples to see if they carried it (they do on the Website), but they only had a few mediocre-looking pens in stock for more money than I was willing to spend. A bit more Googling revealed the fascinating cult of fountain pens and moleskines that already exists. I took note of a few brands that were mentioned, and decided to just keep my eyes open for stationery stores. For some reason, we don't seem to have them in New Hampshire, so it would have to wait until next time I headed south.
I was visiting my sister last weekend in Rhode Island for fun, and we stopped by one of her favorite stores, Figments, which is run by a RISD graduate / graphic designer named Peggy. It's a small store that stocks an eclectic variety of stationery, furniture, one-of-a-kind gifts, and other tasteful artifacts. I'd been there once before, having gotten excited by some aluminum binder covers that I didn't end up buying because I (again) didn't know what I would put in them...they were so cool :-) This time, I saw that Peggy carried a handful of the German Lamy pens pens I'd read about online, though it took me a few moments to remember this. I got the Safari, which is regarded as an inexpensive and reliable fountain pen, in a color I am very fond of. My sister commented how she doesn't ordinarily like fountain pens because they feel scratchy and catch on the paper, but the Lamy was very pleasurable and smooth. She called me up later to say that she wanted to go get one. :-)
I actually haven't tried writing in the notebook yet with this, because I haven't yet heard or thought of any interesting phrases to put into it. I also want to get some brown ink, so it looks extra-ancient when I write in it, but in the meantime I'm willing to use the blue cartridge that came with it. I am a little concerned that the paper will be too porous for the fountain pen, but I will try it out later this week and see what happens. It may be that the other pen I got at Figments, a Lamy Vista Rollerball, will work. I wasn't planning on getting this pen, but I was sharing a story with the owner about how there was a certain green Pilot rollerball pen in the 80s that I used to love writing with. My enthusiasm must have triggered something, because she hauled out this pen and had me try it. As I doodled, I got lost in the action of the pen...it was very smooth, and ink flowed out of it effortlessly. It has been a long time since I've used a pen that made me want to make marks on paper...not since that green Pilot in the 80s, actually. My current everyday rollerball is the Pilot G2, but this pen has more resistance and is kind of scratchy. It reminds me of work. The Lamy Rollerball reminded me of recess on a warm spring day, drawing endless doodles on the picnic table with my friends by the soccer field.
So I have my notebook, and I have my pens. I'm looking forward to making some marks on paper next time I'm in the coffee shop.
I flew to northern California last Tuesday for a week-long onsite working session. The routine is a bit more established this time, and I'm starting to make some progress that feels like progress...that is, I can actually see stuff on the screen now. I've been ramping on some video game graphics technology (Microsoft's XNA 2.0, which we've switched to after giving Managed Direct X 1.1 a go). XNA has a much cleaner API than MDX, and does away with a lot of legacy issues that I'm glad I don't have to worry about. What's been frustrating is the documentation, which on the surface looks comprehensive but lacks the kind of detailed guidance at the mid- and low level references that help flesh out the complete picture. I've been making my own references to fill in the gaps.
On the flight to San Jose, I perused Southwest's "Spirit" Magazine and took some notes:
Possible Food Destinations: The Independent Retail Cattleman's Association is an organization that promotes "the great steak houses of North America", which is an idea I could really get behind. Steak seems to be a big part of airline magazine advertising for some reason; perhaps business travelers looking for deductible junkets are the target audience. I noted a few other mentions of beef places to look into: Arcadia Modern American Steakhouse here in San Jose, Austin Land & Cattle Company in Austin (might have to visit there for SXSW in March), and a place called Lawry's for (yum) prime rib. I love steak because it's an elemental food when it's prepared well: it's essentially meat + heat, with a dash of salt. Once you master the heat aspect, you can do a lot of interesting variations on the basic theme. I
Cirque du Soleil packages excellence, and so should we: The article described how world-class athletes are swarming to Cirque Du Soleil for work, and it's quite a competitive process. What struck me about the article was that Cirque Du Soleil has really developed a methodology for putting on sustained productions of exceptional artistry and uniqueness. Because they handle every detail of the productions they develop, they are the go-to people for creating this type of entertainment experience. So how can we apply this to our own, less acrobatic work? If we can make our obsessions pay off (that is, financially they turn a profit), I don't see why we shouldn't relentlessly pursue them IF we are also competent judges of our own excellence. That takes a pretty uncommon objectivity.
My New Car Could Be a Mini Cooper: The original re-issue Mini Cooper was very cute, but just too small. The new Mini Clubman, though, adds way more rear legroom and cargo space that's accessible via two swinging rear vertical doors. Cool!
Randal Ford's Norman Rockwell-inspired Photography: Randal Ford staged and shot live versions of Norman Rockwell's classic illustrations of Americana. It's amazing that actual people can actually contort their faces into the exaggerated expressions depicted in the original paintings.
Receipt Filing Service: I hate filing receipts, so I do a very poor job of it. I was intrigued to read about shoeboxed, which will consolidate your online receipts and scan in your printed ones. They have a service where you can mail in your receipts and they'll scan 'em into your account, and mail them back to you. While the receipt service itself is free, the scanning service is not. It's an interesting idea! I suppose a real accountant would do the same thing; I wonder how much the difference would be in cost.
And here in San Jose:
Old School Mac Stores: In San Jose I got a chance to visit an actual old-school Macintosh store called Mac Pro, which by strange coincidence is the exclusive North American distributor for be.ez laptop bags. I had just read about the LEvertigo 17 the week before, which seemed to have the combination of vertical carry and cleaner styling I wanted for the new 17" Macbook Pro. My hands-on experience: it's a nice bag, though lightly-built compared to the rugged Briggs and Riley Computer Brief that I used for my smaller laptop. If Briggs and Riley made a 17" version of their brief, I would be so happy.
I want Fry's with that: I also have been to Fry's Electronics in San Jose a couple of times already, and I was enthralled by the selection of components available. I saw things in person that I've only read about in online catalogs. I wish we had one back East; the closest thing I've seen is the Micro Center in Cambridge off of Memorial Drive, and it is nothing like Frys. Not even close.
I probably won't have time to do a tour of the historical landmarks, but it's just cool to be in the birthplace of the (micro)computer revolution.
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About Dave
I'm an investigative designer, and I write about design, development, and productivity tools.
