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  • Mission Improbable Gospel Music 2: Chiseling out a Chord Progression

    April 10, 2008

    As I wrote a few days ago, I had decided that I would try to write a Gospel song despite my inability to credibly play an instrument and lack of experience with music composition. The reason: it seemed like an interesting challenge at the time, and I was quite ready to be a clueless novice in the process.

    Despite my inability to perform, I do have a history of having been exposed to music environmentally, and it seems to have wedged certain patterns into the part of my brain. Yesterday’s comments were heartening, as some of the decisions I made about chord progression–acquired by mashing keys on the digital piano until they sounded right–were on the mark. Woot!

    I spent a few hours over the past couple of days figuring out how to actually get from my scribbled notes into something I could actually share. Geeky notes follow :-)

    What I Have Noticed about Music Structure

    I’ve noticed that the popular music I listen to has a definite pattern to the combination of notes that are played in each temporal group. What I’m calling “pattern to the combination of notes” corresponds, I think, to the chords selected from the major or minor scale in a particular “temporal group”; this group is called a bar or measure. Part of the joy of music seems to come from the ((combination of predictability of the pattern balanced with surprise**; a lot of popular songs follow a formula of some kind where there are certain number of bars with certain combinations of chords, but the way the notes are expressed is quite infinitely varied.

    There are 12 notes in western music, and all of our songs are made of those combinations. From a graphic designer’s perspective, one could think of them as the available named colors. As with colors, certain notes just seem to go well together, while others don’t. I once tried to figure out why this was by looking at the relationships between pure sinusoidal tones, as I know from Electrical Engineering that sine waves are the fundamental building blocks of all more complex waveforms. As it turns out, the waves that sound good together tend to share harmonics in interesting whole-numbered multiples, but I don’t know if this really what creates the impression of harmony.

    I came up with a progression of chords (each of which consists of 3 notes) that sounded “right” to me. I could have started with any good-sounding chord, but I found that for the next chord to sound right, only certain notes were available otherwise it would sound weird. The pattern I was aware of reminds me a lot of a good episode of The A-Team, the formulaic-yet-enjoyable 80s television hit featuring Mr. T:

    1. 4 bars of introduction, which sets the style of the song. Like when the A-Team gets contacted by the help-seeker of the week.
    2. 4 more bars of “character building”, fleshing out where this song is going to go emotionally. Very similar to Hannibal working out how to handle the problem with Face, Murdock, and B.A.
    3. 4 more bars of “conflict setup”, which feels like an intermediate mystery to be solved. The Team is dealing with the operational challenges of the mission, but before the final conflict has arisen.
    4. 4 more bards of “conflict resolution”, a plot point that is closed (for now). The Team is finally at the place where they need to take action to prepare for the final act.
    5. 16 more bars of “whooping it up”, which is when the show features the “Let’s build something kickass and shoot up the place” montage.
    6. Repeat as necessary.

    I found I couldn’t break certain expectations outside of certain intervals, or it sounded wrong. I couldn’t change a chord in the middle of a bar, because…well, I didn’t like it. I couldn’t change the key until at least 16 bars of that setup had occurred…key changes are like changing the lighting in a room in a movie. And even then, it seems like the keys need to share at least some notes immediately before the break so there is some commonality. The chords within a series of bars had to relate to each other in some way too, in some manner I can’t quite grasp. It might be pure familiarity at work here, hundreds of years of the same structures informing thousands and thousands of songs. Maybe some of them just were easier to play on certain instruments. Others just are good sounding; not all chords are created equally when it comes to harmonic bliss. My friend Lee pointed me toward equal temperament as a concept; it turns out that all these various “official notes” western music are a hack so a piano can have a fairly decent go at playing different scales “equally well”. Which really means “equally bad”…they’re close, but not exact.

    I was dimly aware that chords and chord progressions describe a song pretty well; it’s like using a grid in graphic design to pre-solve certain spatial relationships and create proportional harmony in the division of space. If I could just pick a chord progression that sounded OK to me, that would solve a lot of problems automatically. This presumes that I could actually tell if the notes I was picking were in the progression or not. This is something I seem to be able to do, but I sometimes wonder if all musicians actually can tell. I have lost count of the number of college band guitar solos that seem to be connected to a different song than the one they were playing.

    Picking a Progression of Chords

    And then…I was stuck. I couldn’t pick the progression because I couldn’t hear the rhythm in my head to further constrain the problem sense. I tried humming a few things to myself, trying to match the keys on the keyboard, but this felt like spinning my wheels. I eventually realized that I could impose some additional structure by creating a fake lyric that just had the right number of syllables in it. I basically picked cliche phrases from half-remembered gospel songs and piled ’em up to create a few verses, then hummed how I thought a singer might deliver them.

    Fake Lyrics To find the right keys, the technique I used was to just play all the keys until I found the one I wanted. The process was very similar to sketching very loosely with lots of overlapping lines to outline rough shapes: our eyes pick the line we want, and then we ink it. In a similar way I thrashed keys that were in the direction I wanted the song to go, and ignored any note that didn’t sound right. Once I identified something that sounded good, I wrote down the name of the note based on the one thing I remember from piano lessons: how to find C. I scribbled these notes down on my paper, and used them to play the chords over and over again while humming my fake lyrics. This was a laborious process because I had trouble matching my chord notes to the actual keys on the keyboard, and my dexterity was poor. However, I did manage to come up with this chord progression in the key of C major for the first 8 bars:
    GCE - BEG - ACE - GBD
    ACE - CFA - GBF - GCE
    

    Each group of notes is one measure, and they are all played simultaneously to “fill the space”. When I played it out, using an organ sound, it sounded “right” but it was also very filling. These are the big meaty-sounding chords, with lots of harmonic shared relationships. I believe Lee called these “major triads”, but I’m not sure if that’s what I ended up with. It did sound familiar and somewhat churchy, though as I mentioned in yesterday’s comments that that last group (GCE) seemed to “end” the song rather abruptly, leaving me “no where to go”. I was fascinated to learn from a commenter that this phenomenon actually has a name: cadence, which is the “punctuation” of music. Some progressions just sound more “final” than others. Neat.

    Note Transcription

    While I had some chords down, I wasn’t able to really experience them. I can’t play the keyboard well enough to get a real sense of the song. Fortunately, I have a tendency to buy music gear whenever I think I might actually have the drive to learn something musical “for real”. I also have some digital sound editing software that I use for audio storyboarding, editing, and digital media asset production. What I needed to do was enter the notes into a music sequencer software package, then render the sound to an MP3 file.

    Gear My MacBook Pro is running Windows XP natively, and into this is plugged an M-Audio Axiom 25 USB Keyboard Controller that I picked up 2 years ago with the idea that I might actually use it to learn how to use Reason, one of the first really cool virtual studio products that not only looked pretty, but actually didn’t crash every few minutes. I unpacked the Axiom for the first time about 3 hours ago, and I’m happy to see that it actually works. :-)

    I happpened to already have Sony Acid Pro 6.0, a multi-track music creation and sound synthesis package that I use for creating audio soundtracks from multiple sources, though it’s been years since I’ve had to do this kind of work. This is the companion software to Sound Forge, the sound editing package that I’ve been using for quite some time for tweaking audio at the sample level. You can think of Sound Forge as the audio equivalent to Photoshop because it creates assets, while Acid is more akin to something like InDesign because it combines and layers assets you’ve created elsewhere.

    Acid Pro 6 has a lot of music synthesis stuff built into it, and after some fussing with it I got it to recognize the Axiom 25 and input notes directly. Then I discovered I could actually draw the notes directly in with a pencil tool.

    Acid Pro After entering my chord progression, I heard it played back to me for the first time at a measured pace, and realized I didn’t like the second group. It sounded kind of awkward, so I tweaked it in the program until it sounded more interesting and less like a “full-stop”. Commenter Steve had written to suggest another approach in his earlier comment, but I didn’t refer to it because I wanted to see what I would come up with. You download the zip archive of GospelTest01 and listen to 0410-GospelTest00.mp3 to hear the progression, or scroll to the end of this post and click the audio player button to hear GospelTest00 and GospelTest01.

    Churchiness and Sonic Space

    As I listened to my chord progression, I felt a bit of despair: it sounded very boring and, well, predictable and lame. It reminded me of a graphic design faux-pas I see a lot from non-designers: the gradient fill. What happens is that the non-designer sees a great big white space, and they are overcome by the urge to “put something pretty” there. Rather than compose something tasteful, the gradient fill comes to the rescue to add some “style”. It almost always looks terrible unless applied with some subtlety. I’d just done the same thing, musically. Oh dear.

    Then I remembered: the chord progression just provides structure so other elements can play on top of it. Since I had the chords entered into Acid, I told it to loop continuously while I noodled around on the keyboard and tried to imagine someone singing on top of it. The chords then became less dominant, and suddenly the flatness went away. It opened up. The name of this file is GospelTest01.mp3 if you want to hear the difference.

    A few notes:

    • I did take the “gradient fill” metaphor farther in this file by using the 80s pop music equivalent: the synthesizer string fill to add moodiness and depth. It actually is starting to sound like something, despite my shameful use of synthesizer cheese. At least I am not adding orchestra stabs to “punch it up” or gating my drums.
    • There’s an interesting thing that I noticed in the 2nd-to-last chord I chose, which is its disharmonious quality relative to the other chords. It also sounds like there is a hole in the middle of it, which creates a slight anxious feeling. The last chord somehow “seals the hole” and eliminates that anxiety. I think I’ve heard this before in other hymns.

    • Because I’m entering in the notes by hand, there is no live performance feel to the vocal part. It all sounds very robotic, because the notes are “quantized” to strict note boundaries. I applied Acid’s Groove tool, which attempts to introduce some liveliness by slightly offsetting the timing. I think it did something, but my sensitivity to this kind of note spacing is fairly poor. It reminds me of kerning, which is the art of spacing letterforms so they look “even”. Some people have the knack for it, able to see subtleties that I can’t detect. And so it might be with musical timing. I left everything quantized here as a guide; I imagine a singer would know what to do to make this sound much cooler..it sounds pretty broken and clunky to me right now, especially listening to it “cold” without my imagination filling in the blanks.

    Next Steps: Lyrics and Emotional Progression

    <

    p>As I was laying down the vocal part in 0410-GospelTest01.mp3, I had certain aspects of the yet-to-be-written lyric in mind:

    • The singer starts by lamenting the difficulty of living
    • The singer starts to realize that he’s already half saved, he just needs to let something go
    • The singer bursts into joyful celebration of salvation of some kind, hallelujah

    The first 8 bars I have are that first part: lamentation. It’s heavy-sounding and doesn’t kind lift off except for one single note that rises optimistically before sinking again. Listening to it again I realized that there aren’t enough notes in the vocal part to really make it work, but I’ll hit that again when the entire structure is fleshed out.

    The second 8 parts will lift up somehow, but repeat a few times. It takes a while for the singer to realize he’s “saved”, so I’m thinking that a repeating rising and dropping might impart that sense emotionally. Maybe an upward key change?

    The last part, the joyful refrain, should soar. I think this will happen through longer notes and a very energetic playful sequence of notes, like you’re on some kind of awesome theme park ride that gives you a huge boost. Or something.

    So that will be the next focus; any refinement will wait to see what I have at the end of the next stage. I think it will be actually rather difficult because I’ll need to keep the big picture in mind of progression, and it takes me a long time to figure out how the notes fit together. The awesome part, though, is that it doesn’t take a lot of time to try things, and the feedback is immediate. When I’m doing graphics work or development, it takes a lot longer to get to the point where I can really immerse myself into what I’m making.

    You should be able to hear what the progressions sound like by clicking the player button below. You can also download the general midi file or the entire archive.

    Click the Play Button! It should play 24 seconds of GospelTest00 (just church chords) and then GospelTest01 (a first pass at trying to create something over the chord structure):

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    DSri Seah
  • Mission Improbable: Making Some Gospel Music

    April 9, 2008

    It’s been a pretty good week so far, thanks to some recent insights I’ve had about my so-called “work life balance”. I’ve been continuing to take notes on Tom Hodgkinson’s The Freedom Manifesto, and I’ve been feeling better about making choices that will allow me to relax and be happier with my pace. Up to now, I’ve always labored under the assumption that I needed to work faster, work harder and be optimally competent because I attributed these qualities with “professionalism” and “success”. I also suspect there is some subtle cultural conditioning going on too; even though my parents didn’t force me to study hard or strive to be successful for its own sake, I nevertheless picked up this value through sheer osmosis. It went without saying. My parents and the extended families all have a very highly-developed sense of mission as well, being involved with the Christian community in Taiwan and other academic pursuits. Although I didn’t follow in their footsteps, the idea that there was a higher authority to which I needed to report to. God? Standards? Ideals? Philosophy? I kept seeking it out, craving some kind of closure, until sometime this past Monday. I have come to the conclusion that I will actually be pretty happy seeking things out, because I have been happy doing this. The rest will take care of itself. This is just one of those life lessons, I think, that every person has to learn for themselves. I’ve been told this over and over by people I love and respect, but you know how it goes: it’s just not the same unless the apple falls on your head.

    Having come to a kind of inner peace, my daily routine is starting to come back together after having fallen to frequent travel and a veritable parade of wheezy winter coughs. I have started going to the gym again too; I was happy to see that while my muscles are noticeably flabby, cardiovascular endurance is not as degraded. But something else was missing: with my reacquired sense of personal stability, I felt the need to do something non-routine. Something impossible, or at least relatively unexpected. My sense of creative adventure has returned.

    I mentioned this to one of my coffee buddies this morning at Starbucks, looking for a suggestion of something that would be IMPOSSIBLE to do. I like impossible tasks because it’s fun to think of ways to whittle ’em down to the realm of probability, winning the no-win scenario, and so forth. Unfortunately, the first thing she said was “GO TO THE MOON”, and though I instantly started thinking about ways to get there, all of them took a lot of years and a lot of money; visiting the moon will have to wait until I make a bazillion dollars or Southwest starts flying there out of Las Vegas (all my “frequent flyer” miles are with them, you see). So that kind of took the wind out of it. However, on the way out I heard some gospel music playing over the cafe loudspeaker, and thought, “Hey, I should write a gospel song! How hard could that be?” Sure, I can’t play an instrument worth beans, can’t read sheet music, and my experience creating music has been limited to editing stock sources for use in “online webinars” for IBM…but why not?

    And so, this will be my amateur project. This should be fun.

    The Approach

    There’s a favorite line I have from the television show The Unit, which is about a team of special forces operatives. What I like about the show is that it’s about the characters and their mental attitude toward getting things done, not about shooting stuff or knifing people in the dark (though they do that pretty well too). In one episode, the wife of one of the officers is trying to work out a moral dilemma, and another member of The Unit relays some advice that the commander had told him in the past:

    If you knew the answer, what would it be?

    I like that line a LOT, because it’s tricky and if you can master it, it probably is the way to at least get going on finding the solution. In a lot of cases, there is no wrong way to start, and the solution presents itself only after you start looking for it.

    In the case of writing Gospel music, I’m in a similar situation. I have an idea what Gospel music is from movies like The Blues Brothers, the occasional episode of American Idol and Ally McBeal. I once saw a volunteer Gospel group perform at the Boston Museum of Fine Arts, trying in vain to raise the roof with a pretty introverted crowd. And because I was raised first as a Presbyterian minister’s son, then later grew up on the campus of a theological seminary with a very LOUD music building, I’ve been exposed to a LOT of hymns. On the seminary, walking to and from the school bus stop I’d hear vocalist singing scales over and over again. And when Grandpa (himself also an ordained minister) gave me a full-sized harmonica that I started to play with, I eventually discovered that it could ONLY play nursery school songs and hymns. Every time I would try to toot out something funky or popular, I would find that I was missing some notes. It turns out that my harmonica was made for the key of C Major, which is the key of practically every hymn played in mainline protestant churches. So that’s what I could play. After a while, I sort of gave it up when I started to crave “bluesy notes” and didn’t know that’s what it was. A few times since then I’d tried to figure out how music “worked”, reading up on harmonic relationships between notes and driving my Mom nuts with questions like, “but where do the notes come from?” Mom liked her notes just the way they were printed on the sheet, she did; my continual questions about the theory and the underlying principles of why some chords sounded “good” and other “ech” didn’t get too far with her. This mystery continued into college, when I asked some guitar players some questions about chords, and they started happily tossing around terms like “Minor 7th” and “Diminished 9th”. When I asked them what the numbers meant, they really couldn’t tell me; they just knew how to look up the fingerings and believed such chords were “cool” in some musical aesthetic sense. I eventually figured out that in common use, these terms are largely descriptive of a certain pattern of notes and are used to reference characteristic features of certain genres of music (jazz, for example). The connection I was looking for was technical and emotional: I wanted to map chords to emotions, transitions, and progressions, because that’s how I hear music.

    So that’s what I have to work with: an emphasis “feeling” and the ability to “hear” when something sounds right to me. I have a keyboard and the imprint of 18 years of classical church music shaping my idea of what music sounds like, with more recent exposure to mainstream blues, jazz, and popular music.

    The elements of my Gospel song, as far as I can figure them, are something like this:

    • Words There’s usually something about Jesus, The Lord, Praising Him, Sweetness, Grace, Salvation, Mercy, Forgiveness, Having Journeyed, Now Seeing, Getting Shown the Way, Being Led, Seeing the Light, Feeling the Love, and the occasional acknowledgment to Joyful Noisemaking. There’s a little story that goes along with it; the classic progression is being a sinner, down and out, or otherwise depressed, but then POW, Jesus or The Lord steps in and the choir has something to get excited about.
    • Music This is where I’m a little shaky on what to do. Ordinarily I would want to make something original but it’s quite probably that anything I come up with is going to sound like something I’ve heard. Compounding the problem is the fact that I can’t actually play the piano. What I can do, however, is press down keys on the keyboard and work out what the progression might be, mapping my notion of how the song progresses emotionally to choose what I want. Then I can work out the interconnects between each chord later. I know, I know…I am such an engineer. I guess this is a good opportunity to learn how to transcribe notes. When I was a kid I did take some piano lessons, but never could really read sheet music as I just pretended to read, relying instead on memorized finger positions.

    • Vocals I can’t sing either, but I guess if I’m writing a song I’ll have to try. I’ll worry about that later.

    • Song Structure I don’t have one in mind, but what usually seems to happen is that you have a verse that goes on for a while, which leads into a refrain that sets the common theme, and then the song repeats. In popular music, there’s usually some kind of change-up (I think this is called “the bridge”) that is in a different key, but I’ll not worry about that.

    <

    p>So that’s the idea. I think I’ll start with Music first, because I just plugged in the keyboard.

    Expectations

    I expect this to be fun, and to be educational, that’s it. It will probably result in something that’s very derivative and not very “good”, but it’s an experiment; maybe I’ll luck out. I’m also NOT looking for proper instruction or a methodology to learn “the right way” to do this, which is part of the fun. I have a tendency to get stuck in the “optimal instruction” mindset in the first place, so deliberately approaching music in an ad-hoc fashion might help banish my stiff and unfunky mannerisms. May the Good Lord have mercy on me and show me the way! :-)

    » On to Part 2

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    DSri Seah
  • Inadvertent Branding

    April 6, 2008

    I get asked about once a month about the whiskey and scotch image banner that is featured at the top of this web page. Concerned Christians have asked me about it in email, making sure that I am not embarking on a doomed spiral of binge drinking. The best thing that I’ve gotten out of it was a very nice bottle of Scotch from a German fellow (thanks again, Alan!) who happened to be visiting New England. I got asked about it again today, by a friend who I hadn’t spoken to in quite a few years, so I think it’s time to tell the story. You can think of it as a cautionary tale about what happens when you don’t think about your brand before laying pixels out on the World Wide Web. On the other hand, I don’t think it could have happened any other way, and it’s certainly fun to look back at the evolution of my online identity.

    The First Blog Design

    I started with Movable Type in September 2004, but switched almost immediately to WordPress 1.1. However, I hated WordPress’ default typography, so I ported the Movable Type template over. I only added a simple graphical header:

    The Old Banner In October or so, I was processing a particularly yummy-looking picture of some Chinese-style pork belly stew, and added this banner below the header for fun:

    The First Banner I decided I liked the combination of image and text, and even though it didn’t make any sense at all I decided to just keep it. I was still trying to figure out what the site would be about, so over the next few months I added a few more banners just to liven the place up. Eventually 13 banners were created, and they would be set depending on the day using a simple algorithm. Here’s what it looked like:

    The Old Site And here are the 12 other banners:

    Old BannerOld BannerOld Banner Old BannerOld BannerOld Banner Old BannerOld BannerOld Banner Old BannerOld BannerOld Banner

    The Website Refresh

    In January 2006, I was thinking about adding advertising to some pages of the website, but the old fixed-width design hadn’t taken this into account. I basically needed to widen the layout a bit. You read about the design decisions I was facing in 2 Days and 28 Pixels Later, the original post that documents the redesign. This is when the infamous whiskey picture first made its debut.

    At the time, I thought that the picture would be temporary, and it was used on context to the way I was doing my site update. Feeling particularly lazy, I didn’t set up a proper staging server to test the new deployment on. Instead, I just backed up my databases, crossed my fingers, and did live updates on the running server. This is extremely bad practice in a production environment, but at the time I was getting only 250 pageviews a day, so I figured no one would notice anyway in the middle of the night. However, I knew it was still a bad idea so I decided to use this picture of the scotch bottles, which were left over from an attempt by my dear cousin Ben to introduce me to the finer things in life. I had mentioned to him that I didn’t know anything about hard liquor, and so we went to the New Hampshire State Liquor Store and bought a selection of “introductory” scotches and whiskeys. I tasted each one of them, and didn’t like any of them that much. I actually don’t drink at all, except for the occasional beer when I’m having a good pizza.

    The bottles, however, photographed quite beautifully.

    The composition was such that it would work well with a Post-It Note I photoshop’d into the picture that read: Danger! Live Update in Progress! XXXOOO – Dave. The joke here was that I was doing something irresponsible on server, which is on the same level as mixing alcohol with work:

    The Cautionary Banner I figured that I would put the “real” banner in place after I was sure that the design worked, by adapting the banners from the old site. As it turns out, though, none of the images were suitable for the new aspect ratio of the header; I’d inadvertently designed myself into a corner. I would have to reshoot all my banner pictures! I never did get around to it. And then a couple design ranking websites actually liked the design and booze theme, and then I just plain forgot about the whole thing. When I decided to move to Expression Engine, I deliberately did not attempt a redesign because I had a whole new templating system to learn and 1200 entries to convert. Now that I’m a little more comfortable with how EE works, I am thinking about a redesign again to fix the terrible navigation on the site…a lot of stuff is buried and inaccessible because the WordPress categories did not translate cleanly over. Sigh.

    The Brand As it Stands

    I keep saying “brand”, when I really mean “identity”. Right now, the look of the website is somewhat entrenched. I like the irreverent imagery, too. It’s a kind of visual non-sequitor because it has no bearing on anything I write about on the site. And that’s kind of fun. I could invent a thematic rationale after-the-fact like the quality, variety, and international origin of fine spirits reflect the best of life’s offerings for the discerning palate or some such nonsense, but you and I would know that I was deliberately spouting crap :-) However, there IS a grain of truth in that statement: I do aspire to experience more, and there is something rather nice about the variety of pleasures that I have yet to sample. And I must admit, I have developed a taste for certain peaty Scotches; the Lagavulin 16 year single malt is what I like, but I use ice and only drink 1/8th of a finger at a time. I am basically just smelling the stuff, letting the complex bouquet of aged wood mixed with the hint of smoke waft through my upper nasal passages. I am not sure that this counts as actual drinking.

    So that’s the story! Moving forward, I may retain elements of the bottles, booze, interesting colors and maybe ill-advised combinations of objects as a visual theme, but I’m sure that a branding consultant would tell me I’m doing terrible things to my message. I might care more if I knew exactly what that message was; I’m still figuring it out…

    Until then, bottoms up :-)

    !@(images/08/0407-drinkup.jpg:F http://flickr.com/photos/da5zeay/1418759921/ “Drink Up”)

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    DSri Seah
  • Ground Hog Day Resolution Review 02: Train Wreck of Opportunity

    April 4, 2008

    It’s already April 4th, and I admit it: I’ve been slacking on my Groundhog Day Resolutions. After 2007’s promising run, I’d hoped that 2008 would be even stronger, but this hasn’t been the case. I think I know why too: so far, there is nothing to get excited about. Looking back at last month’s review, I can see the malaise creeping in; instead of being a source of joyful ambition, this year’s Ground Hog Day Resolutions feel like a chore. Just look at this list from last month’s weenie post:

    • Get a Hobby
    • Build Reputation
    • Build a Financial Engine
    • Be more Outgoing

    I mean, it’s a fine thing to want to improve myself, but this list sucks. It’s boring, and it completely lacks specificity. I’m surprised…I should know better.

    What’s Exciting? I Dunno

    I know that the logical next-step is to define my goals so I can take concrete, measurable steps toward them. I’m just not that excited about them, therefore I haven’t mustered the energy to define them. The promise of a nebulous “better future” doesn’t really capture my imagination, and I just realized why that is: I am envisioning a toolish future of a smooth-running financial operation that gives me time to pursue my hobbies. This is a future based on the premise that I need security first before I can even think of the fun stuff that comes later. Without that vision of the fun stuff, I can’t get excited about. I am, as Tim Ferriss might say, being a DEFERRER, putting off the things I want to do. But WHAT is that?

    My sister Emily, the source of many of the cooler things I’ve been exposed to, recently sent me British author Tom Hodgkinson’s The Freedom Manifesto. She’d picked it up one day while in a foul mood at the South Station book stand, and she said it “cheered her up.” I actually didn’t read it for quite a few weeks, figuring that I’d already “freed myself” from a lot of the preconceptions that the book purported to address. When Em reiterated that it was quite good, I decided to read it while on the long flight to San Jose last week; this was the missing half of the solution to the life puzzle I’ve been working on. The first half of the solution was realizing that yes, I could start to create my own means to pursuing a more interesting life, which was triggered by the review copy of Tim Ferriss’ The 4-Hour Work Week I’d read last April. The book is designed to giving you the means to construct a self-funding lifestyle along with the necessary supporting mindset; while I’d had pieces of that mindset, I didn’t have a workable model in my head. Hodgkinson’s The Freedom Manifesto is proving to have a similar effect on me, this time from the angle of defining an interesting life. And the answer is surprisingly low-key: I want to have a good life with my friends. This dovetails neatly with my previous insight regarding the kind of people I want to be around, the positive-minded, conscientious, self-empowered and kind folk that make life a pleasure. In other words, I’d rather like to loaf around and do interesting things with my friends. The book is remarkable in its cheeky stand against the guilt-driven productivity mindset. The attitude is quite refreshing, and it’s helped me figure out just what it is about GTD that leaves me uneasy: I don’t want to just get better at clearing my inbox to reduce my anxiety. Instead, I don’t want to have an anxiety-inducing inbox in the first place; figuring out a way to do that is what I’d rather be doing. That’s the basic premise of The Freedom Manifesto. I am outlining the book so I can do a full review on it later.

    Anyway, what both books have in common is the don’t defer mindset. In Ferriss’ book, he does his best to break you of the notion that you have to follow the same path that everyone else is following to retirement, and describes in detail how you can create a means of supporting your dreams if you put the work into that right now. It’s quite practical in its approach, though the lack of a politically-correct justification for the techniques described (outsourcing, selling products) bothers the people who believe there is a moral component to making a living. Hodkinson’s book is all about morality, and his stance is that capitalism and the pervasive anxiety-inducing work-ethic–which he argues is the fault of no-fun Puritans and the Industrial Revolution–is just plain evil. So don’t play into those enslaving systems, which trap you in their cycle of working-and-consuming for the benefit of feeding massive corporate profits, and start living now. At first I was skeptical, but after reading the book I have to say that there’s much to reconsider regarding my so-called goals. Many of them are rooted in the notion that self-improvement is a noble pursuit in itself, as are career building and social responsibility. Hodgkinson points instead to self-sufficiency, vocation, and taking responsibility, which resonates with me more.

    Back to My Goals

    Here’s what’s important to me right now:

    • Figuring out how to be a full-time writer and content creator. I like this, and I’d like to make a living at this.
    • Reducing my needs. If I can live cheaper, then I need less money. Gotta pay off debt, also, but this can happen over time.
    • Work based on my Vocation. I can finally say this with certainty: my vocation is understanding and communicating ideas so ordinary people are empowered by them. That’s what I do well, and it’s what I love to do. It’s not design development, or even writing; these are just the tools that serve the vocation.

    The key activities that relate to my goals are pretty simple:

    • Make Content, and Sell It. I still have a bunch of ETP pads to sell, but my ecommerce solution doesn’t handle inventory. Gotta get on that.
    • Learn how to do my own book keeping. Hire an accountant to set me up.
    • Start changing my “service offerings” to reflect my unique blend of skills, emphasizing communication and clarity as my essemtial product.

    So let’s see how that goes on May 5th (5/5), the next Ground Hog Resolution Review Day.

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    DSri Seah
  • Contemplating Career Directions

    March 31, 2008

    I had a long coffee meeting with Fred Schechter yesterday, an industrial designer based in northern California that I’ve been talking to on-and-off for the past couple of years. Industrial Design is one of those majors I wish I’d known about when I was applying to college; not knowing any better, I had gone into Electrical Engineering. Fred himself had originally started in Mechanical Engineering, but thanks to a chance conversation with a friend (“they have a MAJOR for making cool stuff???”) he made an early exit and jumped to the world of product design. Anyway, we’ve been chatting about our mutual interest in making and selling our own products, and Fred’s perspective on it from the industrial design / manufacturing side has been invaluable in fleshing out my next steps. He’s an enthusiastic guy too, so if you’re looking for someone to talk to about early-stage concept and prototyping for manufacturing, it’s worth dropping him an email. Anyway, the conversation has helped solidify some thoughts on my personal career direction, so I thought I’d share them.

    What Do I Do?

    I’ve been thinking a lot lately about what it is that I do, because it doesn’t neatly fit into a simple category. Or rather, I don’t want it to, which makes telling people what I do difficult. And if I can’t tell people what I do, it’s hard for them to imagine a way to work together. This is essentially a kind of marketing / branding problem, but from my personal perspective it is an aspect of my ongoing search for identity and how I relate to others; this is the million dollar question. It is what really drives my design process too. I suppose if I billed myself as a marketing or branding person, I would have to say that I’m NOT an operational or strategic manager (which is what a lot of people seem to do). What I like to do occurs before strategy so it can inform strategic planning, but it is not strategy in itself. What the heck is that called? I don’t know, therefore I can’t explain it.

    For most of us getting started in the job market, we’ve learned to define ourselves through skills and years of experience (this includes education, which becomes less relevant as years of experience accrue). For “creatives”, we add a portfolio that showcase the physical work we’ve materially contributed to. If your job does not produce artifacts like this, then you use position and job title as the lowest common denominator for placing yourself in context to the field with which you’ve identified; this implies you have relevant knowledge and experience. All of these “markers” of “job identity” work if you fit in the pre-existing system. I could fit into this system (I’ve tried several roles to date), but they have not fully satisfied me. For the past few years, I’ve been trying to figure out my niche, so I could adequately define something NEW that fit me well. I haven’t thought much beyond that, but that’s OK: I’ve learned to appreciate that chance encounters are pretty much the mechanism through which the Universe makes my life interesting.

    In the conversation about making books, Fred helped me figure out a few attributes about my writing methodology from a more detailed perspective. Here’s what I think I do from a blogging perspective:

    • I am obsessive about documenting process meticulously and accurately. I hate bad docs, having been exposed to plenty of them.
    • I scaffold my documentation with personal experience and context. I can safely use myself as an example without stepping on other people’s toes.
    • I am inclusive of my readers as friends as I document and relate these experiences. I don’t like feeling like an outsider, so I try to be as inclusive as I can so long as it feels good.
    • I always try to create original expression and new content, rather than just report on what others are doing. It’s a personal value.
    • I summarize and distill working principles as succinctly as I can, because that’s what I find easiest to remember
    • I maintain personal continuity in my writing, because I happen to find that kind of thing interesting.

    From this, I could see how I could induce general principles of interest from my specific interests. For the past few years, I’ve been aware that I tend to write about these specific areas:

    • Design
    • Development
    • Productivity
    • Personal Empowerment
    • Inspiration
    • Sharing Personal Experiences

    Repackaging these into general principles, I come up with this:

    • Design Thinking and Concepts
    • How People Work (from a process psychology perspective)
    • Building Stuff
    • Chasing Dreams and Making Them Real
    • Creating Practical Process Guides with Useful Insights

    It is interesting to note that my specific interests were inward facing: they are my activities and interests. The general principles, however, are outward facing: they include other people’s interests and activities. For example, I’m very interested in what other people are doing with their dreams, and I’m happiest when I’m a part of that process of making them real. With the general principles, I now have the critical balance of perspective that I was missing.

    And, finally I can see how I could spin this into a general consultancy specializing in making sense out of things. The skills I have—that is, the specific experience I have with design and development tools, new media development, interactive design, etc—are just tools used to express the general principles.

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    DSri Seah