Red pill or blue pill?

Creator: I imagine that right now you're feeling a bit like Alice. Tumbling down the rabbit hole?

Designer: You could say that.

Creator: I can see it in your eyes. You have the look of a man who accepts what he sees because he's expecting to wake up. Ironically, this is not far from the truth. Do you believe in fate, Designer?
Designer: No.

Creator: Why not?

Designer: 'Cause I don't like the idea that I'm not in control of my design.

Creator: I know exactly what you mean. Let me tell you why you're here. You're here because you know something. What you know, you can't explain. But you feel it. You felt it your entire life. That there's something wrong with the world. You don't know what it is, but it's there. Like a splinter in your mind -- driving you mad. It is this feeling that has brought you to me. Do you know what I'm talking about?

Designer: The Design Matrix?

Creator: Do you want to know what it is?

(Designer nods his head.)

Creator: The Design Matrix is everywhere, it is all around us. Even now, in this very room. You can see it when you look out your window, or when you turn on your television. You can feel it when you go to work, or when go to church or when you pay your taxes. It is the world that has been pulled over your eyes to blind you from the truth.

Designer: What truth?

Creator: That you are a slave, Designer. Like everyone else, you were born into bondage, born inside a prison that you cannot smell, taste, or touch. A prison for your design. Unfortunately, no one can be told what the Design Matrix is. You have to see it for yourself. This is your last chance. After this, there is no turning back.

(In his left hand, Creator shows a blue pill.)

Creator: You take the blue pill and the story ends. You wake in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe. (a red pill is shown in his other hand) You take the red pill and you stay in Wonderland and I show you how deep the rabbit-hole goes. Remember -- all I am offering is the truth, nothing more.

Which pill will you take?

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Jobs Talk

This is the text of the Commencement address by Steve Jobs, CEO of Apple Computer and of Pixar Animation Studios, delivered on June 12, 2005. Steve really has some good insights on creativity and life as it relates to the heart and soul of design. I hope you enjoy.

I am honored to be with you today at your commencement from one of the finest universities in the world. I never graduated from college. Truth be told, this is the closest I've ever gotten to a college graduation. Today I want to tell you three stories from my life. That's it. No big deal. Just three stories.

The first story is about connecting the dots.

I dropped out of Reed College after the first 6 months, but then stayed around as a drop-in for another 18 months or so before I really quit. So why did I drop out?

It started before I was born. My biological mother was a young, unwed college graduate student, and she decided to put me up for adoption. She felt very strongly that I should be adopted by college graduates, so everything was all set for me to be adopted at birth by a lawyer and his wife. Except that when I popped out they decided at the last minute that they really wanted a girl. So my parents, who were on a waiting list, got a call in the middle of the night asking: "We have an unexpected baby boy; do you want him?" They said: "Of course." My biological mother later found out that my mother had never graduated from college and that my father had never graduated from high school. She refused to sign the final adoption papers. She only relented a few months later when my parents promised that I would someday go to college.

And 17 years later I did go to college. But I naively chose a college that was almost as expensive as Stanford, and all of my working-class parents' savings were being spent on my college tuition. After six months, I couldn't see the value in it. I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life and no idea how college was going to help me figure it out. And here I was spending all of the money my parents had saved their entire life. So I decided to drop out and trust that it would all work out OK. It was pretty scary at the time, but looking back it was one of the best decisions I ever made. The minute I dropped out I could stop taking the required classes that didn't interest me, and begin dropping in on the ones that looked interesting.

It wasn't all romantic. I didn't have a dorm room, so I slept on the floor in friends' rooms, I returned coke bottles for the 5 cent deposits to buy food with, and I would walk the 7 miles across town every Sunday night to get one good meal a week at the Hare Krishna temple. I loved it. And much of what I stumbled into by following my curiosity and intuition turned out to be priceless later on. Let me give you one example:

Reed College at that time offered perhaps the best calligraphy instruction in the country. Throughout the campus every poster, every label on every drawer, was beautifully hand calligraphed. Because I had dropped out and didn't have to take the normal classes, I decided to take a calligraphy class to learn how to do this. I learned about serif and san serif typefaces, about varying the amount of space between different letter combinations, about what makes great typography great. It was beautiful, historical, artistically subtle in a way that science can't capture, and I found it fascinating.

None of this had even a hope of any practical application in my life. But ten years later, when we were designing the first Macintosh computer, it all came back to me. And we designed it all into the Mac. It was the first computer with beautiful typography. If I had never dropped in on that single course in college, the Mac would have never had multiple typefaces or proportionally spaced fonts. And since Windows just copied the Mac, its likely that no personal computer would have them. If I had never dropped out, I would have never dropped in on this calligraphy class, and personal computers might not have the wonderful typography that they do. Of course it was impossible to connect the dots looking forward when I was in college. But it was very, very clear looking backwards ten years later.

Again, you can't connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something—your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. This approach has never let me down, and it has made all the difference in my life.

My second story is about love and loss.

I was lucky—I found what I loved to do early in life. Woz and I started Apple in my parents garage when I was 20. We worked hard, and in 10 years Apple had grown from just the two of us in a garage into a $2 billion company with over 4000 employees. We had just released our finest creation--the Macintosh--a year earlier, and I had just turned 30. And then I got fired. How can you get fired from a company you started? Well, as Apple grew we hired someone who I thought was very talented to run the company with me, and for the first year or so things went well. But then our visions of the future began to diverge and eventually we had a falling out. When we did, our Board of Directors sided with him. So at 30 I was out. And very publicly out. What had been the focus of my entire adult life was gone, and it was devastating.

I really didn't know what to do for a few months. I felt that I had let the previous generation of entrepreneurs down—that I had dropped the baton as it was being passed to me. I met with David Packard and Bob Noyce and tried to apologize for screwing up so badly. I was a very public failure, and I even thought about running away from the valley. But something slowly began to dawn on me—I still loved what I did. The turn of events at Apple had not changed that one bit. I had been rejected, but I was still in love. And so I decided to start over.

I didn't see it then, but it turned out that getting fired from Apple was the best thing that could have ever happened to me. The heaviness of being successful was replaced by the lightness of being a beginner again, less sure about everything. It freed me to enter one of the most creative periods of my life.

During the next five years, I started a company named NeXT, another company named Pixar, and fell in love with an amazing woman who would become my wife. Pixar went on to create the worlds first computer animated feature film, Toy Story, and is now the most successful animation studio in the world. In a remarkable turn of events, Apple bought NeXT, I returned to Apple, and the technology we developed at NeXT is at the heart of Apple's current renaissance. And Laurene and I have a wonderful family together.

I'm pretty sure none of this would have happened if I hadn't been fired from Apple. It was awful tasting medicine, but I guess the patient needed it. Sometimes life hits you in the head with a brick. Don't lose faith. I'm convinced that the only thing that kept me going was that I loved what I did. You've got to find what you love. And that is as true for your work as it is for your lovers. Your work is going to fill a large part of your life, and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work. And the only way to do great work is to love what you do. If you haven't found it yet, keep looking. Don't settle. As with all matters of the heart, you'll know when you find it. And, like any great relationship, it just gets better and better as the years roll on. So keep looking until you find it. Don't settle.

My third story is about death.

When I was 17, I read a quote that went something like: "If you live each day as if it was your last, someday you'll most certainly be right." It made an impression on me, and since then, for the past 33 years, I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked myself: "If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?" And whenever the answer has been "No" for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something.

Remembering that I'll be dead soon is the most important tool I've ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything—all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure—these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart.

About a year ago I was diagnosed with cancer. I had a scan at 7:30 in the morning, and it clearly showed a tumor on my pancreas. I didn't even know what a pancreas was. The doctors told me this was almost certainly a type of cancer that is incurable, and that I should expect to live no longer than three to six months. My doctor advised me to go home and get my affairs in order, which is doctor's code for prepare to die. It means to try to tell your kids everything you thought you'd have the next 10 years to tell them in just a few months. It means to make sure everything is buttoned up so that it will be as easy as possible for your family. It means to say your goodbyes.

I lived with that diagnosis all day. Later that evening I had a biopsy, where they stuck an endoscope down my throat, through my stomach and into my intestines, put a needle into my pancreas and got a few cells from the tumor. I was sedated, but my wife, who was there, told me that when they viewed the cells under a microscope the doctors started crying because it turned out to be a very rare form of pancreatic cancer that is curable with surgery. I had the surgery and I'm fine now.

This was the closest I've been to facing death, and I hope its the closest I get for a few more decades. Having lived through it, I can now say this to you with a bit more certainty than when death was a useful but purely intellectual concept:

No one wants to die. Even people who want to go to heaven don't want to die to get there. And yet death is the destination we all share. No one has ever escaped it. And that is as it should be, because Death is very likely the single best invention of Life. It is Life's change agent. It clears out the old to make way for the new. Right now the new is you, but someday not too long from now, you will gradually become the old and be cleared away. Sorry to be so dramatic, but it is quite true.

Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life. Don't be trapped by dogma—which is living with the results of other people's thinking. Don't let the noise of others' opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.

When I was young, there was an amazing publication called The Whole Earth Catalog, which was one of the bibles of my generation. It was created by a fellow named Stewart Brand not far from here in Menlo Park, and he brought it to life with his poetic touch. This was in the late 1960's, before personal computers and desktop publishing, so it was all made with typewriters, scissors, and polaroid cameras. It was sort of like Google in paperback form, 35 years before Google came along: it was idealistic, and overflowing with neat tools and great notions.

Stewart and his team put out several issues of The Whole Earth Catalog, and then when it had run its course, they put out a final issue. It was the mid-1970s, and I was your age. On the back cover of their final issue was a photograph of an early morning country road, the kind you might find yourself hitchhiking on if you were so adventurous. Beneath it were the words: "Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish." It was their farewell message as they signed off. Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish. And I have always wished that for myself. And now, as you graduate to begin anew, I wish that for you.

Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish.

Thank you all very much

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Classless Design

Like it or not, design has class. And no, I don’t mean it's classy as in elegant or fashionable, although design is a very trendy business world accessory of late. And I don't mean design has class as in groups that share the same common attributes. I mean design has class as in an artificial social hierarchy--much of it self inflicted. This more subtle definition of class creates a division where one group is perceived as "better" or "higher" or "more refined" than the other. This trend is nothing new. Art, architecture, literature, culture, music, etc. all have created similar class systems. And we as designers are somewhat guilty for creating artificial divisions in design. Let me explain.

I recently listened to an online video given by Malcom Gladwell, well known author of the Tipping Point and Blink. He tells the story of how in the early '70's Grey Poupon Dijon mustard broke into a field dominated by two plain yellow mustards. How? First, they created a different type of mustard that was spicy and brown. Then through design and advertising they created an artificial mustard social class, where plain yellow mustards should be perceived as "common" and Grey Poupon as "upper class" mustard. Grey Poupon became a mustard to aspire to, not merely consume. Soon, many in advertising and design were following their lead, creating products and services that were based on aspiration and social hierarchy where there had been none before. Think computers: Mac (creative class) vs PC (corporate working class). Think cars: Ford (working class) vs BMW (upper crust).

There used to be only two manufacturers of spaghetti sauce on the national scene: Ragu and Prego. Ragu dominated the market. Their sauces were based on what was considered at the time to be the perfect, authentic Italian pasta sauce: thin and watery with one basic flavor. Spaghetti sauce makers aspired to a single perfect sauce in the mould of Grey Poupon. Ragu hired a fellow to help them revive their struggling product in the face of the dominant Ragu sauce. What he discovered was that there is no perfect sauce to aspire to. There are perfect sauces. In other words, there is no class system (social or aspirational) in spaghetti sauce. There are many classes (i.e. different kinds) of spaghetti sauce that would appeal to many different folks. Interestingly, he found that one third Americans actually like chunky sauce versus the authentic Italian thin, watery sauce. Prego created a chunky sauce plus 20 other variations and began to dominate the sauce market. So, what does this have to do with design again?

Think back to the last time you presented several design concepts to a client. And of course there was one concept you thought was the perfect solution. We'll call it the Poupon concept. The others were not as "good" for whatever reason. And of course, the client chose one of the "weaker" concepts. Or maybe you just presented a single, Pouponesque concept and the client rejected it. We all know how that feels. You argue your point and still the client wants some "lower class" concept. Maybe they even pull out something that their friend did for them as an example. You hold your head (and nose) high and try not to look too offended by the assumption that this concept could be in the same design "class" as yours.

Like it or not, we're creating an unnecessary class system in design. One design is not in a higher social class than another any more than Dijion is in a higher social status than yellow mustard. They are just designs with different strengths and weaknesses. The sooner we recognize that design should be devoid of social hierarchy, the more creative both designer and the designed will become.

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Call for Entries: Design that Touches the Heart

As we did with the first Heart Show in 2006, in 2007 we're still going to break some rules and make some new ones. We're going to beat the bushes, leave no stone unturned, run up the red flag and scour the globe in search of design that touches the heart. Over the hills, through the woods and beyond visual clichés, we hope to discover a hidden treasure trove of design that connects passion and purpose in a meaningful way. We know it's out there somewhere. Maybe it's nearer than we think. Maybe it's tucked away in your computer under that unmarked folder of experiments just waiting for the world to see.

So, don't just sit there hoping one day you'll find a use for that work, or a client that will appreciate what you've done for them. Send us those designs that you feel touch others in a passionate way. Why? Because we all need to see design that breaks through hearts of stone. Because we'll be encouraged and possibly inspired. Because you'll help us explore the heart and soul of design. And because this is the call for entries for BLANK's first annual Design That Touches the Heart show. Here are the rules (or lack there of):

ELIGIBILITY: Anyone, any age, any where and any work from any time is qualified. We are looking for treasures right? We expect some of them to be antiques while others to be hot off the press. Just make sure they are your works. And you must have the permission of the company, client or team to reproduce the work online. If you're under 18, let your parents know what you are doing. They'll be proud. We'll have no nasty lawsuits mind you. And you "old" hands over 40 with distinguished firms and fancy Herman Miller chairs, don't be afraid to show something new or shake the cobwebs off your finest work. The young'uns need to connect with a heritage of passionate work done in the (gulp) 60's, 70's and 80's.

COST TO ENTER: Free. Did we mention we're going to break some rules? Yep, no cost to you. We always thought it silly that you have to pay for a chance to show your work. We'll put an end to that game right here. Of course if you feel you must pay us something, we'll gladly provide an unmarked Swiss bank account.

CATEGORIES: Illustration, editorial, logo, identity, stationary systems, websites, annual reports, catalogs, photography, typography, advertising, environmental graphics, self-promotion, packaging, posters and anything else that is design. This includes all "student" work. Aren't we all students anyway?

SUBMISSIONS: We'll accept only digital files. The show is all online, so scan those hardcopies in and shoot us the file. We're not going to alter or touch up bad scans. What you send is what everyone sees. Keep the focus to works you feel touch the heart. We know that's broadly defined, so if you're having trouble understanding what we're looking for, take a moment to read through BLANK past and present. It should be clear as mud. With your files we'll need all the usual data for each piece: your name/firm, entry title, art director, designer, client, contact info. For online work, please provide a screenshot(s) and a link to the work if the site still bears remote resemblance to your original creation. Try to keep the file size under 300K in JPEG, PNG, TIFF, AI, PSD, or GIF formats. We'll work with you if you have problems. And most importantly, give us an explanation of how/why each work touches the heart. Just a few thoughts will suffice.

JUDGES: There are no "judges" because this isn't a competition. This is a communal experience, a shared exploration, a blind leading the blind search for design's heart and soul. Who's going to do all this communing, sharing and searching? You. We'll post the entries on BLANK with their creators and let our readers tell us what touches their hearts. Maybe we'll learn something together?

SEND ENTRIES TO: Email your files and information to heartshow[at]b-l-a-n-k.com. You can also send a CD to: B L A N K: Design That Touches the Heart Show, 23 Point Road, Crossville TN 38571.

DEADLINE: March 1, 2007. Please don't be a tardy client. We all know how it feels to be on the receiving end of late content. Look for the show online in early Summer 2007.

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Rear View Mirror

When I was a "smack" (a.k.a. freshman) at the Air Force Academy, one of my reoccurring dreams (besides being yelled at by an upperclassman) was to one day graduate and see the Academy fading away in my rear view mirror. Some 13 years later, I still enjoy looking in the rear view mirror to see what it might say. So, here's to the highlights of 2006, your comments, and B-L-A-N-K's search for the heart and soul of design:

• We questioned Intelligent Design.
• We pondered why youth is so idealized in design.
• We realized that design doesn't always work.
• We miss Hope.
• We tried to find some altruistic students.
• We altered egos.
• We made sausage.
• We gave gifts.
• We found four things.
• We discovered design can be a democracy.
• We cringed.
• We considered the shallowness of design.
• We cleaned up aisle 5, 6 and 7.
• We remembered our creative childhood.
• We discovered the power of a _______.
• We got religious.
• We became unknown.
• We looked at blood and ink.
• We searched for leaders.
• We sought the Spirit of design.
• We tried once again to define design.
• We showed a lot of heart.
• We designed with a handicap.
• We found ourselves in the middle of a Second Renaissance.
• We'd rather be______.
• We're defined.
  
• We're obsessed.
• We're limited.
• We're confessing and professing.
• We're changing.

And we'll be here in 2007. Thanks for everyone that has contributed. Join us on the journey.

Frank for B-L-A-N-K.com

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B L A N K is back...

Recently I upgraded the BLANK server to my hosting provider's super fancy new server. All went well until I tried publishing to BLANK. For the last few weeks I've tried dances, contortions, coaxing and yes, even thought about giving up all hope that one could publish or comment on BLANK again. Then, with some Divine intervention, I found the spot on the server that needed to be scratched and voila...BLANK's back.

So now you can write comments to that last bizarre post I wrote, and I'll publish Brian's long overdue article as well.

My apologies to Todd Carver who asked me right before the site was "upgraded" to announce a call for entries to "The Best of Church Marketing." Pick up your submission form here and pepper Todd with submissions and questions!

Thanks for your patience.

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Change is Good. Change is Inevitable.

Change is good: Two weeks ago I participated in a roundtable hosted by Recourses, a management consulting firm that works with service providers in the communications industry.

This particular roundtable (unfortunately, you'll have to wade through the Recourses web site to get to the roundtable page, as the site currently has the misfortune of being coded in frames) was guided by David Baker, and attended by principals from 10 other design firms of 6 employees and under. It was two intense days of discussion and interaction, with the goal of learning from each other and affecting positive change in our businesses.

And learn we did. I honestly don't think my view of the design business, or even the business itself, will be the same.

It's not uncommon in the design field for firms to be unfocused, looking for work from any client who comes along. But now it's going to be different, we'll be looking for the work we want to do. Marty Neumeier, whose excellent book, The Brand Gap, explains focus very well.

My epiphany: For all of the positioning work we do for our clients, we've never clearly focused on our own positioning; it's been too broad. But now we have narrowed our focus, and things are going to change, of course for the better.

Change is inevitable: the choices you make on how you run your design business will contribute to whether or not the change is good.

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True Professions

I knew I'd have to come out of the closet some day. I guess now is as good a time as any. Some of you will be shocked, others will not care and many will not have a clue why I'm even writing this post. But I think it's important you understand why I write from the perspective I do, and why B L A N K has a different tone than most blogs, Christian or otherwise. Understand, not everyone who writes articles for B L A N K shares my view. That's good. Uniformity is boring, and it plagues design, especially "Christian" design. Nonetheless, you ought to know where I'm coming from. So, without further adue, here's my design theses nailed to the door of my heart:

1. I am a Christian. Blah, blah, blah, blah. Fill in the blank with all the answers you feel are necessary to define what that is doctrinally, experientially, or whatever. Both good and bad. I probably fit most of them anyway.

2. I design and get paid for it. Blah, blah, blah, blah. Fill in the blank with the answers you feel qualify someone to be a designer, both high and low. I've no formal design training, so if that is a criteria on your list, you can scratch what I said about being a designer.

3. As a Christian and a designer, each have a profound influence on the other. One is who I am, the other is what I do. Who I am as a Christian infiltrates all I do in design. What I do in design gives me a greater understanding of who I am as a Christian.

4. "Christian" or ministry related design as we know and practice it today is irrelevant. And that's why you won't see me writing much about it . Not because there aren't lots of examples of good design being employed by churches, Christian organizations, ministries, etc. It's because design done in the Christian church/organization/ministry realm today is like fresh green leaves on a massive tree limb. There's nothing the matter with those leaves, but the limb itself has been pruned from the tree and is lying on the ground. No matter how wonderfully those leaves do their job, they are not going to help the tree grow at all. The limb they are on is separated from the life of the tree and is dead. The leaves may look alive, but they are irrelevant. And that is the state of what we see today in Christian and church design circles. But hold on. The tree's still there and growing. That brings me to...

5. Something is coming in design that will change everything for everyone that calls themselves a designer. A design that is actually connected to the tree is emerging full of life and light, so much so that all unconnected design will be seen as dead and dark. That design will profoundly touch the heart, and it won't come through limbs of churches, organizations, ministries, conferences or schools. It will come though people--childlike designers willing to touch the unseen.

And that's what I'm looking for. That's what I'm pursuing. That's what I want to write about and experience at every level of my professional and personal existence.

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The Limits of Design

I'm concerned. Has anyone else but me noticed the growing tendency in Western democratic countries around the world to censor anything that might be considered offensive to Muslims? Think back to the Danish editorial cartoon, the book by S. Rushdie and most recently the modification of a musical performance in Germany. It seems so small and insignificant, but these are signals that something is shifting in our world--a shift that will eventually constrain our freedom to speak the truth through design.

It's a spirit of fear. And it's not exclusive to Islamic extremists coming to get you if you say anything against the Prophet Mohammed. You can find fear operating in dictators, emperors, fascists, communists, capitalists, democracies and even Christian churches. We're naïve as designers to think that the power of fear which for centuries has shaped, stifled and controlled the expression of truth through the visual arts can't exert it's influence again. Let's take a little quiz to see how fear might already be impacting our choices:

1. Do you have a burning passion or project in design that you'd like to pursue, but just can't seem to do it?
2. Do you dream of working independently, but can't break free of your current employer?
3. Have you ever known what the best design solution was for a client's problem, but didn't suggest it?
4. Have you ever wanted to break the creative boundaries on a project, but couldn't?
5. Have you ever wanted to share your idea with your colleagues but didn't?

All of these questions, as simplistic as they are, indicate that at some level fear is shaping our decisions. Fear limits our creativity. Fear hampers our ability to do what is best for others and ultimately ourselves. Fear makes design bland and ineffective.

Probably none of us reading this blog have ever lived or designed under a system of fear and repression like those in communist, fascist or even Islamic fundamentalist countries. We are, however, familiar with the spirit of fear in our everyday lives. We must fight against fear where ever we find it. The truth is our greatest weapon against fear in design. Let's find the truth and use it to drive out fear so that design can touch the heart.

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Definition of a Designer

Why is the design field so curiously self-obsessive?

From AIGA's Communique newsletter:

Promoting a new standard definition for “designer”
AIGA testified this month before the commission on redefining the standard occupational classifications for “designer” used by the U.S. government in its economic research. This is another step in an effort that AIGA has pursued consistently for ten years. The occupational classification for designer is at least two decades old and captures the functions of a designer prior to the introduction of the Macintosh and securely anchored in the realm of commercial artist.

Stated definition: "Design or create graphics to meet specific commercial or promotional needs, such as packaging, displays, or logos. May use a variety of mediums to achieve artistic or decorative effects." (Last updated in 2003).

Again from AIGA:

The U.S. Department of Labor’s contractor for the Occupational Information Network (O*NET), the government’s database on occupational characteristics, is conducting a survey to gain a sense of the relevance of the current definition. The survey will be sent to 80 opinion leaders within the profession, and their responses will govern the future definition. The definition is important to designers, since it governs both the literature about the profession that the government issues, but also influences the economic data collected about the profession.

Milton Glaser weighed in last year, with a presentation at the AIGA conference, touching on on role and responsibilities as designers. I'm certain he wasn't thinking of a definition the government would use in establishing criteria for economic data.

What is curious is that the US Department of Labor's definition seems much more current on the Bureau of Labor statistics web site. It's broad and inclusive and recognizes many aspects of what a graphic designer does.

All in all, it's a great time in which to be a graphic designer. Don't worry so much about your software skills. Instead, learn how to think. Then it won't matter how you're defined, you'll know how to solve problems, and your clients will recognize that and value you for it.

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I'd Rather Be...

A designer I know has recently resurrected his interest in leaving the client-based design sphere. This is something we all toy with—chances are we all have some secret (or not-so-secret) design interest that exists somewhere outside of client work. So what stops me personally? The reasons are always the same:

The Money
The biggest excuse. Maybe "excuse" is the wrong word. Perhaps I should say "the biggest legitimate concern." It's not easy just to walk away from paying clients for the uncertainty of entrepreneurship. Even worse is the possibility that there is not a clearly defined market for the things you would like to make. I won't even bother discussing the hurdles for those interested in pursuing some sort of as-of-yet-unexplored-holy-grail art+design hybrid.

The Time
Here's the rub. When I started picking up more freelance work I always thought about it as a way to eventually finance my more personal design projects. Somewhere in the past couple of years it feels more and more like the means to an end has become the end itself. Don't get me wrong—I love the client work I do. This work keeps me sharp and makes me feel like I am doing something "real". Perhaps most important is that it provides deadlines that are essential to maximizing my productivity.

The Balance
I don't think I will ever leave the client-based sector entirely. I don't want to——the challenges are ever-changing, the pay is good, and I simply love designing and problem solving. If I went all out into personal work I would likely burn out quickly. I also fear that making a business out of my personal interests would make them lose that special something that makes them appealing to me know.

It's all about balance. I know that the day will come (hopefully sooner than later) that I will slow down the freelance and start to balance my personal/professional design scale. When I strike this balance it will allow me to have the best of both worlds without being consumed by either. Teaching will pay the bills, freelance will pay for personal work, and personal work will enrich every aspect of my life as a designer/husband/teacher/peer.

I am not quite sure what I would be doing for my personal work, but I have plenty of nagging thoughts. My wife and some friends have talked about starting a greeting card business. I have thought about submitting some of my experimental poster/interactive work to juried exhibitions. We have considered traveling to the south of France and developing a contemporary typeface based on the distinct letterforms of my ancestors. The list is eclectic indeed and priorities shift from week to week.

The Question
So what would you do to balance your personal/professional creative scale?

If you had more time, more money, fewer, better clients what would you do? It doesn't even have to do with design but creativity in general. Perhaps by sharing our secret creative/entrepreneurial daydreams we can start down the road to accomplishment.

BLANK Editor's Note: Thanks Paul and Widgets & Stone for allowing us to post this article from anonymous designer.

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The Second Renaissance

You may not know it, but we're in the beginning of what will one day be defined by historians as the Second Renaissance or "rebirth" of arts and culture. The First Renaissance started in Italy in the 1300's, lasted several hundred years, and centered around the rediscovery of ancient texts and classical learning that was dormant Europe during the Middle Ages. This rediscovery brought about profound changes in every area of society that formed the basis of what we now consider Modern society. The First Renaissance witnessed the birth of the Reformation, the rise of Humanism and the spark of the Scientific Revolution. And the institutional Christian church played a significant role in funding and shaping much of the major movements during this period. As a result, the art, philosophy (minus humanism) and music of that period bore the distinct marks of the church and a calling to a higher, deeper Purpose that those disciplines serve.

The Second Renaissance is quite different. While technology still fuels it--the computer and Internet taking the place of the printing press and monks--the Second Renaissance signals the transition of the Modern era into a Post-Modern one. This Second Renaissance is not being shaped by institutions--the Church or otherwise, but by individuals and organic groups formed and reformed for specific purposes. The focus is largely now on the rediscovery of pre-classical, ancient themes of good ol' hedonism and primitive thinking. And the flourishing of the arts is not funded by the church with a Higher vision, but by business via advertising and design with a singular vision of profit and materialism. These differences between the First and Second Renaissance raise several important questions for us as designers who are Christians.

What philosophies will the Second Renaissance give birth to? Will business continue to be the primary patron of design? What will be the impact on society? I'd like to suggest that the institutional or organized, visible Christian church will have little to no impact in this Second Renaissance in the arts. I'm not being harsh here, secular institutions will be equally as ineffective. The Internet has profoundly shifted the balance of power away from institutions toward the organic. The work being done by the visible Christian church in the arts is mainly copy work. Nothing ground breaking or culture shaping. I think that's why we had such a tough time finding concrete examples of Design That Touches the Heart entries for this year's show. The few sparks of life touching design that I have seen exist outside the visible church and with individuals functioning as the organic Church. The same can be said of design in general as it flourishes beyond the boundaries of the profession's institutions and corporate structures.

As designers, we must shed these institutional shells that have served their good purpose and be transformed into new creatures that look and function differently. Only then will we be able to speak life and meaning into design, find it's true heart purpose and give birth to a Divine purpose that changes society for the Good.

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Designing with a Handicap

You can tell it's summer because we've not posted in a while. I just returned from a family vacation in Alaska, and have no idea where the other BLANK bloggers are. I also spent a good part of my summer working on a client site that's almost complete, and watching movies with my family. Which brings me to some thoughts on design and it's ability to touch the heart.

After seeing some great flicks, I'm more aware of graphic design's self-imposed limitations to touch the heart. I know, it's not fair to compare apples to oranges, but I'll do so anyway. At the core (pun intended) of a medium's capability to touch the heart is the ability to tell a story in a powerful and meaningful way. Design is handicapped as a medium to tell stories. Why? Stories need the element of time to develop, communicate and mature. Film has the ability to create time through multiple image frames. Design though is like a single frame: able to communicate a message, but unable to allow that message to change over time and form a story. Unless, of course, design takes a cue from film and creates the "time" it needs to tell a story that touches the heart. What might this look like? Maybe it looks like this. Or possibly like this? Interesting, no?

I wonder if this is why I've seen graphic designers making the switch to film as it becomes more and more accessible to the masses? Hmm. Something to think about as you watch these films. I hope they spark your creativity like they did mine:

1. The Incredibles: If you haven't see the making of this film, rent the DVD. It will blow you away.
2. Wallace and Gromit: Watch any of their film's "making of" and you'll feel better about how long it takes you to make a logo.
3. Kirikou: Probably the most creative animated film I've seen this year.
4. Beethoven Lives Upstairs: Ever wondered what it would be like?
5. Paper Clips: Design meets kids meets history meets your heart.

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A Show of Heart

Would you believe the 2006 Design That Touches the Heart Show is now online? Believe. We're pleased with this first ever offering of design (and even some art). We hope that it will encourage and inspire you to send in your own work that touches the heart. If we receive enough additional entries, we'll add them to the 2006 show.

Thanks to all who participated. Enjoy.

>> 2006 Design That Touches the Heart Show

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What is design?

Do you ever have difficulty explaining to others, let alone your mother, what exactly it is that you do for a living, or what design actually is?

It seems that when I try to explain design, I get hung up somewhere between explaining the process, and giving a laundry list of outcomes (e.g., brochure, logo, web site, etc.).

The conversation usually goes like this:

"What is it that you do?"
"I'm a designer."
"So what is it that you do?"
"I design logos and brochures and..."
"So what exactly do you do?"
"I create ads and other printed communications."
"Oh, so you use computers."
"Yeah... something like that."

It's always frustrating that as communication professionals, we have a difficult time explaining exactly what we do. Perhaps it's not so much that we can't explain it, but we need to define it.

This definition of design seems to have struck a chord with designers, software engineers, and others from around the world:

"Design consists of creating things for clients who may not know what they want, until they see what you've done, then they know exactly what they want, but it's not what you did."

I know it sounds cynical on the surface, but I think it's accurate in many ways. Of course it's not always the rule, since there are plenty of clients who commission design projects who have a realistic expectation and an understanding of what they need.

As designers, we are constantly dealing with ambiguity, focusing and managing expectations, and leading toward an appropriate solution for the problem at hand.

And by the way, you have to do it on a deadline. No problem!

Tags: Design, creativity

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The Spirit of Design

For the last year, we've explored the heart and soul of design. It's been a strange journey. I don't really know where we're headed, but I feel called to travel there just the same. Along the way, we've trudged through deep valleys, walked across endless plateaus and have gotten completely lost. Then there have been those moments where we crest a steep hill and glimpse an oasis: beautiful and refreshing and yet seemingly untouchable and unreal.

It makes me wonder why it's so difficult to touch the heart and soul of design? Is design heartless? I hope not. Is it soulless? I think not. But maybe we've not touched design that gives Life because we've not touched the spirit of design. I'm not talking about rah-rah school spirit, or about spirits floating through the air. I'm talking about a deeper level of design that goes beyond what we see or even experience. Let me explain by comparing people to design.

I assume we can agree that each person has a physical body, a mind, a heart and a soul. Our physical body is "touched" with our eyes. Our mind is understood with our intellect. Our heart is experienced with our feelings and emotions. And our soul is connected to our identity. But there is another part of us that is equally important--our spirit. And let's say that our spirit encompasses some of our body, mind, heart and soul, yet is separate. Since I'm not a teacher or scholar, that's as far as I'm willing to venture into this area theologically. But if you'll just accept what I've said at face value without throwing up any red flags based on your own beliefs, I'd like to extend this metaphor to design.

The visible part of design is easily grasped. It is the physical "body" of design--that which we can actually see with our eyes (colors, shapes, type, contrast, form, style, function, etc.). It dominates most of design. We critique it constantly and rant about it when it's not done well. You find a multitude of books and competitions that feed off visible design.

Beyond visible design is the "mind" of design. It's what we've done a lot of on BLANK. It's what forums like Design Observer and Speak Up do so well. And it usually engages design on an intellectual level and would include even the business of design. This part of design is coming on strong as evidenced by business' recent infatuation with design, the growth of professional design organizations and frequent design conferences.

The third layer is the "heart" of design. It's that part of design that engages the emotions or pulls on our feelings in some way. This the Holy Grail of advertising design as it seeks to elicit emotions that drive people's actions toward a product or service. We've talked about how design used in this was is manipulative. Yet, there is a flip side to the heart of design when where design engages the community to support a cause or raise awareness of a particular issue for the common good. I call this "do good design." And it does do some good.

The fourth layer is the "soul" of design. The soul layer goes beyond the design work to the designer themselves. In many ways the soul of design defines who the designer is as a professional to include their personal insecurities, self view, position among peers, etc. Thus an individual work of design becomes an extension of the designer. But don't confuse soul with style. Style is part of the visible layer. Soul is much deeper. For example, most of David Carson's work defines a visible style (deconstructionist), while Paul Rustand's work "Have I Missed You" expresses the soul reflective of the designer. Soul design connects the identity of the designer with their passion and purpose and reflects it in a particular work. And after decades of being lost to industry, advertising, and corporations, designers are just now discovering their soul. Stefan Sagmeister's work is a great example of the work of a designer becoming an extension of themselves. You can also see soul in Dave Werner's portfolio.

Now, before we jump into fifth layer of design, I want to share some observations I've made over the last year that bring things into perspective. When we first started this journey to gain a Christian (yes, that's where I'm coming from, so hold your breath) perspective on design, I kept bumping into some interesting people along the way. I'm not sure they know they are on a journey somewhere, but it seems obvious to me by their design. Some are Christians, and some are not. Those designers closest to grasping what we're looking for at BLANK are the ones whose design reaches beyond what is seen, felt and understood to something intuitively perceived by the viewer.

Their design work is a an extension of themselves…not just a physical, trendy style or an intellectual rant about some political issue or even an attempt to move the viewers emotions. No, their work actually contained some of their spirit, and when we view their physical design work, our spirits connected with the spirit of their work. Now the question is, what type of spirit is being communicated through a work? What is that unseen connection made with the viewer? Is it life giving? Searching? Dominating? Controlling? Depressed? And why do we care?

Let's bring this down to earth. Think about surf/skateboard graphics. We could talk all day about the influence of Carson's Ray Gun style on the rest of design. We could oogle over the "cutting edge" nature of the skateboarding industry's trendy work, and how it drives everything from teen fashion to TV commercials. But what is the spirit of most of the design we see in skateboarding? It is a spirit of death or rebellion. Now, let's jump over to "high design" (think fashion, art and even design for its own sake). Again we can discuss the modernistic tendencies or the stereotypical typography commonly used to denote luxurious or elite. But what is the spirit behind most of that design? It is pride, pleasure, arrogance, self above others and live for today. Do you see what I mean by the spirit of a design?

Often the spirit of a design is set in place by the client. For example, Joe business owner calls me up and says he needs a logo fast and cheap. What's the spirit of that request? Or Whack-o-mart, a big prestigious client that pays all my bills, wants a complete product identity for their new widget so they can make millions. What's the spirit behind that design request? How about Fred small business owner needs help with redesigning his website to better serve his customers? What's the spirit behind that design? Catch my drift? Each client/company/organization/request has not only requirements and dollars attached to it, but also a spirit. Discerning that spirit is key to knowing how to handle a client or whether or not to handle them at all. Why? Because our spirit as a designer must connect the client's and produce a work that speaks to the spirit of the viewer. Who do you want to connect your spirit to?

I know. I know. Not every design work has a spirit. Most have only a visible body, part of a mind and very little heart. This is what makes our journey difficult. To grasp the spirit of design is to grasp the heart and soul of design. I hope you can help me clarify and add to these thoughts with your own.

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Leaders Recognize It

Are leaders born, or can you make the decision to become one? Whether your view is from the bottom up, the middle or the top – It's clear that your decisions make the difference.

Last week my design staff attended a simulcast: 360° - The Measure of a Leader, sponsored the Maximum Impact organization. Why? A good designer needs to be an effective leader anywhere within an organization.

Here are a few highlighted points that we learned:

• You have a leadership role and responsibilities, no matter where you are in an organization. You may not recognize it.


• Don't confuse leadership with a strong personality


• Wide leaders make wise decisions and then manage them (A key tenet of John Maxwell, founder of Maximum Impact.)


• A dealer needs to know how to deal with ambiguity


• A leader must be a creative thinker – anticipating needs and thinking beyond perceptions


• A leader is a steward of equipment and resources


• Behavior and performance is more important that words


• A great leader is aware of the big picture and the details (the forest and the trees)


• The most relevant: Learning to lead yourself is the place to start.

Of note: One of the presentations used posters from Despair.com. Despair.com features a series of demotivational products, and is a well-executed parody of the success posters genre. They are hilarious, and totally hit the mark.

If you look through the posters at the web site, there is a poster that addresses every major leadership point presented in the 360° simulcast. How brilliant is that!?

Don't despair. Every designer can be a leader. Now get back to work.

Tags: leadership, stewardship, performance, success

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From Parchment to Postscript

In 2004, my family and I attended a fascinating exhibit entitled From the Dead Sea Scrolls to the Forbidden Book: A History of the Bible. Unfortunately, the exhibit is no longer on display in that form, and it seems that information about the exhibit can now be found at Ink & Blood.

If you're really interested in seeing fragments of the Dead Sea Scrolls, an exhibit is currently mounted at the Maltz Museum of Jewish Heritage entitled Cradle of Christianity: Treasures from the Holy Land. this exhibit sheds light on Christianity’s earliest days: from its emergence against the background of Jewish society in the land of Israel during the 1st century, to its development alongside Jewish communities over the following six centuries.

While the actual fragments of the scrolls that we saw were about the size of a quarter (why bother?), the most fascinating were the examples of Bibles on display from the 10th to the 20th century (The Lunar Bible). Perhaps if you have a keen interest in Christianity, historical book design, archeology, or biblical history, these exhibits would fascinating.

The stories of the men who were killed and persecuted for translating and printing the Bible was very moving, and had the most impact on me.

At this same time, I was completing the design of the Lucerna typeface, commissioned by Tyndale House Publishers for the Second Edition of the New Living Translation Bible.

What struck me the most as I stood looking at the Bibles, reading the stories of the translators, and considering their impact on history – is that nobody was trying to kill me (that I know of) or persecute me (other than the left-wing side of the political spectrum) for contributing to publishing a Bible.

It seemed to me to be a strange culmination of events: I had purchased my first Macintosh (The SE30) in 1990, and released my first typeface intended for Bibles in 1995 (Veritas). Seven years later, I began Lucerna, and the first Bibles typeset in it were released in 2004.

It's difficult to describe the sensation I had while standing in the middle of all this history. The Lucerna Project was significant both personally and professionally, and I am aware that I have been given the opportunity to contribute to the history of the Bible. But why me? I'll always be grateful for the opportunity.

Perhaps the next chapter of the exhibit could be called From Parchment to Postscript...

Tags: Bible, Christianity, type design, Veritas, Lucerna

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Design Not Known

Let me cut to the chase. There's a growing trend among graphic designers to create a name for themselves among their peers. And it's not healthy. Usually it starts off with good intentions. Some designer at company x or freelancing y begins reading design blogs. Then they get the idea that they could do the same. They stretch their wings out a bit and start their own blog. People start reading it. Traffic to the site rises. They promote their work. It's good. They get featured some place big like name-your-favorite-design-blog.com. A bunch of people start coming to their site and leaving nice comments. After a year or two of this, the designer comes up with something that gets their foot into the door of design stardom. Might be a Web 2.0 application or a really helpful tool or the-next-big-thing insight. They're invited to speak at SXSW-NXPDQZ conferences. They appear in HOW. They write the book everyone wants to buy. Shoot, maybe their "style" actually starts a design trend. How wonderful.

I know I'm over exaggerating a bit here, but the spirit underneath it all is to exalt the self…your self. How do I know? I've been tempted to travel this road too. You won't find it slapping you in the face like the story above, but you will see "Your Way" road signs in more subtle ways. Take the term "personal branding". Personal branding involves discovering our selves, our passions, our goals, our capabilities, our mission, our focus, our target, our customers, etc. We set it to paper. We try to live by it. Personal branding can manifest itself in branding statements for yourself that look an awful lot like the mission and vision statements of old. Personal branding comes to life in carefully sculpted clients, work, websites, articles that bolster and enhance one's personal brand. There's just one problem with all of this: us.

You see personal branding and all the other forms of exaltation you find in designdom today are centered around self. How does MY site look? Here is MY playlist? MY blog's now in 9Rules. So-and-so even bigger named designer reads MY blog. MY work was just featured on umpty-ump. And the list goes on. I should know. I've fallen into most all of these myself.

Design is all about others, not us. Design is a servant, not the star. Design is outward focused, not inward. So, to all those designers who no one knows or will ever know; who are slogging it out in the trenches day in and day out serving others without a note of "look at what I've done" fanfare being played: I salute you. Keep going. Resist the urge to jump onto the "try to get myself noticed" wagon. And keep serving others because ultimately, it is Him who you serve.

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Christos Anesti

Spoiler Alert: I'm going to get religious whicha... If you're simply looking for perspectives on design, skip this article. If you're looking for encouragement about why we design, read on.

Last Christmas, I was admittedly irritated – not in a bah humbug sort of way – but in a “quit trying to dilute the meaning of my holiday” way. My office didn't even send a Christmas card, but instead sent a New Year's card, because from a business perspective it’s easier to send a message of hope than risk offending my Jewish brethren (many of whom are clients and dear friends), for whom I have much love and respect.

But with Easter, it’s different. I don't care what anybody else tries to say, there is only one reason to celebrate Easter. And nobody can take that from me.

It's also why I design. Many years ago I realized that from my calling to be an artist, that my purpose in life is to point people to the Truth. Plain and simple. The most effective way I can do that is through design, in compelling ways, and in mundane and common ways.

I have to come back to that thought all of the time. We all have the same struggles: cash flow, personnel, business development, deadlines and coming up with fresh design solutions, to name a few. But knowing that I’m working for a greater purpose is what gives me inspiration.

The meaning and impact of Christ on history goes to the very manner in which we measure the passage of the centuries, the two most significant holidays we celebrate in Western culture, to the thinking that informed the creation of democracy. And that’s just for starters.

I’m not afraid to say that it’s the same meaning and impact that informs my decisions on how I run my business, how I manage my relationships with my staff, my vendors and my clients. It gives me reason to hope when it feels like I’m putting out fires (so to speak), rather than creating design work that my flesh hopes will get me passing notice in one of this industry’s self-indulgent annuals.

So if over time you get tired, and wonder why you started down this path in the first place, afraid that nobody notices, be assured that Someone does notice. That in His eyes, you’re doing great work. That what you do, and how you’re doing it matters.

To me, that’s the heart and soul of design.

Christos Anesti, brothers and sisters. Celebrate your new life. Alethos anesti!

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The Power of _______.

In 1867 something very important happened, the results of which are probably sitting right in front of you. Since the invention of paper, people have been trying to find ways to keep them together…ribbons, straight pins (ouch!), spit, vines, gum and anything else they could scrounge up. Then an American inventor named Samuel B. Fay invented the paperclip. Not only was his design simple and ingenious, the humble paperclip is one of the few technological designs that have remained virtually unchanged over the last 100 plus years. The most common variation on the Fay design that we still see today is the Gem clip (hence the name). Quite a design accomplishment in this day and age when a company logo barely lasts more than 20 years before some marketing executive decides to "rebrand".

Yet, what's most intriguing to me is how the ubiquitous paperclip became a symbol of something far more important than its original design. During World War II, Norwegians wore paperclips to protest the Nazi invasion and demonstrate their sympathy for the Jews, gypsies, homosexuals, and others persecuted by the Nazis. After World War II the Office of Strategic Services (a forerunner to the CIA) even ran a covert operation code named "Paperclip" to bring German Nazi rocket scientists over to the U.S. before the Russians could get them. This powerful little design even inspired students in the small coal mining community of Whitwell, Tennessee to collect over 6 million paperclips in honor of the Jews and others that died at the hands of the Nazi's (don't miss the documentary of their efforts called Paperclips). Can you think of other designs that became powerful symbols for something other than their original intent? How about the cross--originally an instrument of Roman execution, now a symbol of Christianity? Or the swastika? Or a Black Panther?

Symbols in design derive their power through visual representation of real meaning. And that meaning may change through the years depending on how it is used (consider the font Comic Sans, now a symbol of "bad" typography). Most of the work I see designed today (including my own), has little symbolic meaning, nor does it have the power to evoke or provoke strong emotion. It seems to be fluff. A veneer over an artificial surface. But maybe that's the best design can offer until life fills these symbols we create with meaning grounded in experiences (intended or not). So, the next time your designing a logo for what-cha-ma-call-it company, pick up a paperclip and ponder the possibilities.

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What a Waste?

It's been almost a year since we scooped the designer behind the poop. Ever since, I've been hunting for ways to nurture creativity in my children, but hadn't really found much. Then I stumbled upon Dave Werner's now famous portfolio which I've reviewed here. What intrigued me the most were the things that fueled his creative growth growing up. So rather than guess what those things might be, I asked him. Here's a list of things Dave did or was free to do in his childhood that exercised his creative muscles (Thanks for sharing Dave):

- Exploring and drawing maps of the woods near our neighborhood, including secret bases and paths
- Drawing huge murals on butcher paper of imaginary worlds and characters
- Making fictional television guides with shows like "Lego" and "Dinnertime"...if we were ever bored, we would just look at what time it was and check out what the different imaginary channels were playing.
- Writing journals and stories in spiral notebooks
- Creating construction paper menus and taking drink orders whenever we had relatives come over for dinner
- Making short films with stuffed animals and action figures
- Starting a detective agency called Outlook, making secret codes and using walkie-talkies
- Having a full bookshelf, always reading
- Making radio shows or singing impromptu songs into our tape recorder
- Having massive treasure hunts outside with the neighborhood kids

Now, how many of us were able to do any of these types of things in elementary, middle, high school or even college? Probably none of us. That kid day dreaming out the window may be the next Dave Werner. Or the girl doodling all over notebooks the next _____. Most of these activities were labeled a waste of time by our teachers (and maybe parents?), but they are an essential part of exercising the imagination. Maybe what we need in school and life is 4 hours of "recess" and 2 hours of "classroom" time? We've talked about the power for creative Good that is held in our imaginations when we looked at C.S. Lewis' work in the Narnia series. It is no coincidence that Lewis' ideas for the entire series came his imaginary play during childhood.

So, what I'm going to try and do for my children (I have 4 under the age of 10) is encourage the very things that seem to me to be "childish", and maybe in the process I'll discover some part of my own imagination.

What from your childhood encouraged your creativity?

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Design clean up on aisle 5 and 7 and 15 and...

I just have to get this off my chest. It's been grinding at my soul for several years now, and I can't escape confessing this. Since I live in a very small town, there's only one place for starving designers to shop. You guessed it...Wal-Mart. I think I can overcome my ideological and moral issues associated with supporting the world's largest corporation, but I just can't handle one more day of their in-store brand design. "Great Value" products are driving me insane. (Note that Equate and Ol Roy are not GV products. This is just the best image I could find in the public domain)



At first I was simply stunned that a company with all that money couldn't come up with better design for their own store brand. The "Great Value" font is nasty when it's readable and the photography/printing is depressing. It just exudes cheap, not "value" and certainly not "great". I'm sure the work was done in-house at Wal-Mart, and the designers were well intentioned with a "need it yesterday" boss breathing down their necks. But a first year design student could do better. What does this communicate about Wal-Mart? Why don't they understand how design can impact their business like Target? I mean look what Templin Brink Design did with Target's in-house brand.



Now that's more like it! Great design used in a practical way. Design doesn't have to be so "pie in the sky" altruistic to touch people's heart. If we had a Target where I live and prices were competitive, I'd never look at another Great Value box of pasta again. In fact, I've even toyed with the idea of spending a couple of hours designing a new Great Value brand and more than a couple of hours driving to Wal-Mart headquarters to show them what design can do. But a blog post will have to suffice. I feel better now.

Gotta run, looks like I'm low on milk.

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Buhler. Buhler. Buhler...

Something's been bothering me lately as I browse the blogsphere. I've noticed how many comments other blogs receive talking about the most mundane things and how few B L A N K receives trying to delve into things more meaningful. Silence is ok, but sometimes if there's no feedback, but a lot of people sitting around listening, you begin to wonder why. I know from the session reports that we have almost 600 unique visitors a day and around 90 subscribers at any one time, so it's not like we're yapping at ourselves. However, you begin to wonder if you're connecting or even worse if what you're saying is meaningful.

So, for all you "lurkers" out there, give some feedback. What are you thinking about B L A N K? Why do you read these crazy posts about design? Are we spinning our wheels here, or should we continue to try and explore the heart and soul of design? Please do speak up.

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Things that make me...

Lately I've become more aware of things in design that make me cringe when I see, hear or experience them. Sometimes cringing is good, especially when your opposing something immoral, illegal or downright deceptive. Other times cringing is a sign that we are in some way held captive by the very thing we cringe against. I want to be more free creatively, so I've come up with a list of things that make me cringe in the design business. Maybe by identifying them, I can eventually see some good in them. Some may suprise you, others may not:

-- Marketing
-- Church marketing
-- Stock photography
-- Christian design
-- Advertising
-- Design conference
-- School
-- Grunge
-- Style
-- Design on a dime
-- Logos
-- Employer
-- Employee
-- Branding
-- Consumers

What makes you cringe?

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________. For the People. By the People.

Design is a democracy. I don't mean a "design by committee" type of democracy. I mean democracy where the "common" person can contribute in a significant way to the final outcome. Unfortunately, design often lives in a we-they-ocracy. Clients say, "We paid them good money. They better come up with great design." Or design firms say, "We're the professionals in design. They may have ideas, but there's no way they are actually going to participate in the design of the final piece itself." This is a shame. When clients are actually given the chance to participate in design, good things happen. Here are three projects I participated in as client and designer where design democracy worked.

Project 1: Concrete Democracy
As a designer you've probably had the urge to try something different to expand your creative horizons. Last summer when I had some slack time (read no clients), I decided to help my mom redesign her kitchen. Now, I'm no architect, but I figured that with a design background, I should be able to come up with something nice. Executing the idea would be the tricky part. I could have just listened to her ideas and incorporated them in the final work. Instead I went a step further, and encouraged her to actually participate in the design. She hung drywall with me; she painted; she picked out cabinets; and she troweled the concrete countertop we poured together. All at age 70! And with a lot of blood, sweat and a few tears, I'd say we did ok (see the before and after photos below). Now she has a new kitchen and is quite happy. She's happy because she has some sweat equity in the design. This is design democracy.


Project 2: Force Democracy
When I was the advertising and interactive account executive for Air Force ROTC , the general wanted a recruiting brochure developed, printed and mailed to some special recruits in a very tight timeframe. Our creative firm at the time (who shall remain nameless), couldn't meet the deadline. So, I persuaded the firm to allow me to create the brochure using our branding guidelines, and they could tweak the design, copy, etc. to bring it up to a professional level. I expected fierce resistance, and I'm sure there was some in the creative corral (I know I would have). However, humble spirits prevailed and a good work was done through a design democracy (see finished piece below).
Project 3: Skate Democracy
Part of my desire with design is to not only do good work, but to do good. I hope with design to do as much good as I can, in as