the last ten days

Design is a process

To say I'm excited that Cincinnati now has a Creative Mornings chapter would be an understatement. I have followed the birth of these inspirational get togethers since Tina Roth Eisenberg started them back in 2008. I was even lucky enough to see a few really awesome talks while visiting New York City.

When our chapter was starting, someone put my name in the hat as a potential speaker and I begged off the prospect. I don't talk publicly very much—I'd only spoke about photos in a bar up in Dayton a few years back—so the notion was anxiety inducing.

But I was bending elbows with my friend Nick Dewald and he encouraged me to reconsider. Sometimes you just need a little push from someone you admire. (Thank you Nick, I offer a most obliged tip of my hat.)

So there was May 17 circled on the calendar and no idea of what I could share.

I started reading books about public speaking. I scoured past Creative Morning and TED Talks looking for a framework. I sought other examples to spur notions.

The task continued by sifting through each chunk of life, trying to glean one thing, some theme, that would lend summary and meaning. Each period ended with a natural transition I felt important to include. As with photos I post in my album, I like to remove the mystery by including the original photograph. I feel like by sharing this, process is revealed.

The day came and a fella asked me if there was anything I needed as I plugged in my computer and got the microphone in place. “A beer would be good,” I joked at 8:30 in the morning. To my surprise he said that it could be done. Perhaps an IPA? He knew me well. (Thanks Eli!)

The talk went on far too long, and I even left a lot out. (In hindsight, I'd cut any of the stuff that didn't come from personal experience.) But it is what it is, and I managed to “um” and stagger my way through 300 or so slides. I was nervous as heck, and if you stopped by at the podium afterward, I apologize for my clammy handshake.

But the response was genuine and kind, and I appreciate that more than I can articulate.

In preparation to post this, I finally decided to watch the video. If you've ever heard a recording of your own voice, you might understand why I never got past the first few minutes. Once I did slog through this past weekend, I was mortified. The movie with slide transitions I sent over to the Cincinnati team was a mess. Nothing lined up. Entire sections were missing. Videos didn't display. I could blame this on buggy software, but the fault is all my own for not reviewing it before delivery and finding a better solution.

So I remade a movie of the slides in an appropriate format and the kind folks at Creative Mornings re-uploaded it. If you suffered through those 40 minutes prior, I won't beg you to watch it again, but know that it's an entirely different experience. Hopefully it mirrors the intention and message.

 

Which brings me to this last bit of realization…

My premise was that design is a process to solve challenges. Not just graphic design problems, but anything in life. If we simply identify something that needs improved, we can begin the task of finding solutions. I truly believe in this.

I spend a lot of my days solving other folks' problems for work. It's something I enjoy immensely, but I'm beginning to see that I'm avoiding this ethic for my own life.

So I'm defining some personal goals and taking note of patterns that have repeated over the years. I'm looking deeper at myself, in hopes to strengthen my physical and emotional being. I want to open myself up to new possibilities with dedicated focus.

I have no idea how this will manifest itself, but I'm hopeful.

And I believe in this process I champion.

Now is my chance to prove it.

An example of the iterative design process.

Squinting. It's how I learned to draw!

This advice about shoes also applies to shirts, pants, underwear, coffee mugs, socks, non-perishable foodstuffs and toiletries.

Above? My list of the things I want to do. Today I'm going to cook bacon for breakfast, so I feel like I'm on track to reach my goals.

Here are 12 things I talked about that really don't mean much without context. I'm not a fan of such lists, but they hold value as a reminder. The funny thing is, I could totally go through each one of these tiles and argue the opposite. In fact, here's what that’d look like:

So there's all that. If you made it this far? Well, I tip my hat to you for the honor. Now go check out the  Creative Mornings site. It's chock full of different ways to explore and contribute. It's beautiful in how quiet and integrated all the details work together. www.creativemornings.com

Favoriting

Checking out dud links

I'm extremely lucky that I've the week off between Christmas and New Years. Often this time is filled meeting up with friends that might be in town for the holiday, taking down decorations, catching movies at the theater, or simply doing things I want to do.

In this case, I finally caught up with "favorite" photo albums to span the last few years. It's an annual event I let slip back in 2007 and I'm not sure why, as it's a fantastic way to give some shape to the flipping of the calendar.

So I hunkered down after Christmas and sorted. And sorted.

It's an arduous process and I seem to leave more snapshots on the cutting room floor than I'd like, but that's part of the curating process. I call these albums "favorite" photos instead of "best" because they might not be the most excellent photos in the world. But they might represent a moment that was meaningful.

And 2010? Well it was the hardest to whittle down. The year started with a trip to SXSW and I met so many great folks for the first time. (And I've never posted all the photos from that event because there are So. Many.)

I went to Brooklyn. Played ambassador to the midwest for visitors from California. Did a handful of roadtrips to St. Louis, and Pennsylvania and West Virginia. I went to Southeast Asia—for three weeks. I came back from there and went right back out to spend a big hunk of time on the left coast.

And in between all of this travel? I enjoyed my time at home in Ohio. Met new friends. Made new traditions. Enjoyed some old ones.

I like to think 2010 was great, and I'm hoping 2011 continues on that trajectory.

So enough words, here's links to the favorites: 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010.

Oh hi

Long time no see

So we're having a fine brunch and my visiting friend says I never update my journal.
And he's right.
I've been awful remiss.

Then just yesterday I read an interview with Jeff Harris, a fellow that has been taking a photo of his life for the past 10 years.

His site was one of the biggest inspirations for me to start playing with a camera. As he faces cancer, he reflects on the past decade and his work.

"Even the repetition makes it interesting." he says.

And I remember that's one of the things I got out of all this — I was always hoping to see patterns emerge from my own life through these photos.

But more than that, I wanted to share the days with my friends and family.

Then things got muddled somehow. Self imposed deadlines, comment guilt, forlorn with my own visual repetition, wondering if I was thinking too much. This, that, and the other thing.

It just wasn't simple.

So I stripped it all down and started anew over here in the album. And I hopped on that short update thing and the yearbook exploded site.

Yeah, I'm still around.

And things are well outside of the screen!

Just trying to stay outta trouble.

Sleeves rolled up.

Tipping my hat whenever possible.

Trying to make sense of it all and keepin' my eye out for patterns.

Current music: OMD "Of All The Things We've Made"

how the ferns have grown

fractal nature

19 days ago, these ferns were just peeking out of the ground.

Amazing how quickly they grow.

The cycle of life is not lost during moments like these, but it is coupled with sadness as we learned our friend’s mom lost her battle to cancer this day.

Upon hearing the news, she made arrangements to fly out of Dayton–spending the night at our house before heading to be with her family.

We sat there on the patio that evening, raising a toast to her mom and reflecting on all sorts of life’s complexities that somehow neatly interlock.

All the while the ferns framing our outdoor space glowed by candlelight—waving a slow perimeter between us and the darkness of the yard, and everything beyond.

Then & Now : Chinese Lanterns

August 26, 2008 (left) / January 16, 2009 (right)

We have a strip of these plants dividing our property with the neighbor. They're fine enough most of summer, but as the season wraps up they burst into a striking orange.

Inside the papery husk is a tiny fruit that looks like a miniature tomato. I call them Chinese Lanterns, but they're also known as a Groundcherry. [ more info ]

My mom was able to transplant a few successfully to her garden.

In other news: I heard Martin Luther King's "I Have a Dream" speech on the radio yesterday. Having arrived early at my destination, I sat in my car and devoted all my attention to his words.

This passage resonated in particular: "We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of Now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism."

I'm not sure how it all fits together, and for certain MLK had a very specific goal of civil rights that day, but the words still bear meaning and I'm very hopeful for Now.

Notes to the future

I make the same icons over and over it seems...

As we approach our 2nd anniversary at the studio, it's time to figure out where we've been and were we want to go. Part of this process is to think through our personal vision.

We started this today.

Tom was printing out fun tidbits last I saw, Wendy was plotting out things on a grid, and I grabbed a marker and some post-it notes.

So I threw out everything—personal and professional—then gave a subjective rating as to how well I'm attending to any particular topic. (I'll admit I borrowed the latter idea from Wendy's grid)

Tomorrow? We reconvene and look for overlap and ways to help each other.

ZOOM IN to read the notes

Current music: Deerhunter "Activation"

7 years ago

This image, from a trip to NYC in 2004

Seven years ago today, my mother was sitting beside me in a tiny pre-op room the size of a closet. It was uncomfortably early.

I was there for a re-staging biopsy. She was there for support.

I lay there worried about the potential scar I was about to get on my neck, and if it was going to affect my ability to serve in a wedding party the following week.

My mom read a book.
I fiddled with a clock radio.
The measured NPR voices took on a new tone.
A plane hit the World Trade Center in New York.
More concern.
Was the Pentagon hit?
Alarm.
The radio trailed off and I was taken to surgery.

...

I came to hours later and my mom was again, right there. She asked me if I needed anything.

"Water."

"You can only have ice chips" she said and leaned over with a styrofoam cup, "How are you?"

I remember saying, "I'm fine, but how's the country?"

Seven years later and sometimes?
Sometimes I feel like I don't know the answer to that question.

everything's so much more fancy when you repeat it

Ass of truck diptych

I figure if I make enough of these snapshots they'll become a set and then it'll seem purposeful and artistic. But on the other hand, I suppose this shot-gun approach lacks intention. It's the difference between manslaughter and murder.

In other news, we're going to San Diego tomorrow, and I'm hoping some buddy passes from my sister do the trick. Flying standby freaks me out a little.

As for the photos above, they don't really relate to California, or packing. I've simply been keeping the camera handy because of the nice weather, and for some reason this cement truck and wide load just seemed right while traffic was stopped today.

Current Olympic sounds: The squeaks, grunts, whistles, and bumps of volleyball

rare moment of sublime evening light cutting across the living room

brings out all the dust on the faux wood table

I've found the secret to keeping the glass more than half full:

Refill, often.

A night of tv and a lot of ramble

Tom has this tool in the studio. It fascinates me. [ + zoom ]

None of these links open in a new window.

It's softly raining outside and I'm flipping through the channels, semi brain-dead from a productive day.

(this entry, written at 3:30am)

I see what's on the DVR, fast forwarding to get to Dooce on the Today Show only to knit my brows by the presence of Kathy Lee. The former Regis sidekick says things that displease me and I mentally replace all her words with "Cody needs a pony" to release tension.

Really Achieving Your Childhood Dreams

A sneak peak at an upcoming shirt designed by Wendy that hit the press this afternoon

Today's edition of USA Today had a big article about a professor's "last lecture" from Carnegie Mellon. These talks from out-going faculty have since been renamed "Journeys." They are about sharing one's experience and ideas.

This particular professor, Randy Pausch, has pancreatic cancer and though currently healthy, his time is limited in view of statistics. Yet his speech wasn't about disease, it was about achieving dreams.

• You can watch the entire talk online. (it's 76 minutes and really, really, good)
  Also available on iTunes: audio | video


• Read the article: Professor Pausch's life, 'Lecture' go from Web to book (heavy on the marketing)


• or as you may have guessed from that last link: Grab his book The Last Lecture (Amazon kickback)

These bullet points from pale in comparison to the talk, but here goes:

• Never underestimate the importance of having fun.
• No one is pure evil. Find the best in everybody. Wait long enough and people will surprise and impress you.
• Brick walls are there for a reason. They are not there to keep us out. The brick walls are there to give us a chance to show how badly we want something.
• It is not about achieving your dreams but living your life. If you lead your life the right way, the karma will take care of itself. The dreams will come to you.
• We can't change the cards we're dealt, just how we play the hand.

There's a bit in the video about "selling something worthwhile" which references education, but it doesn't boil down well out of context. It is about making and doing things that matter. Good stuff.

liberty

Tax season

I'm somewhat taken aback by all the places that have these promotional... things outside their business to attract customers. These things work, I'm sure. Likely more than those putrid neon signs that I need to accept as acceptable in the new MySpace era of design.

Not pictured: the people that are hired to wear sandwich boards–or worse–dress up in rented costumes outside these establishments and wave to passing traffic. One apartment complex by my own apartment complex has this person that wears a different costume every day: a bunny, a hippy, Uncle Sam. Always holding a plastic corrugated board that says, "#1 Apartments" or "Free Rent for the first month."

I'm not sure what disturbs me most, but perhaps it is that these things might be a reminder of the bigger issue: lack of business out there, or lack of good jobs.

Current music: Coconut Records "Its Not You Its Me"

036

Kismet

Five years ago yesterday, I started keeping a journal online.

There were no images, just words. That first entry was particularly pondersome. It was a heavy year emotionally, economically.

The following April I would start including a photo for most days—formatted in an arbitrary rectangle so it would fit on the screen with some thoughts.

Thirty-six years ago today I was born.

The cast of characters is largely the same. Some folks have moved on, moved around, got hitched, started families. I closed up shop from the initial dot-boom and free-floated for a while, shacked up with a fella I adore, started a new company with friends that has a nice balance of pixels and elbow grease.

So things are good on this birthday.

Today at the studio, my friends presented me with this Charley Harper print that accompanied his definitive monograph.

It is number 036.

Kismet.

I like that there's that leading zero in the print number. If life continues to be this rich, thanks to those around me far and near, I hope to use that extra character in my own numbering.

A hat tip to everyone reading this and following along. It's time for cake.

Current music: Growing "In the Shadow of the Mountain"

overprocessed

compensating for poor exposure and blasting out the image (this, of a truck trailer)

Walked into a store this evening to pick up twine and a USB cable. End up staring at bargain bins of holiday DVDs. I don't need these.

A mother yells at kids while carrying conversation on her mobile phone.

Every customer and employee seems unhappy. I can't stop wondering about them.

The holiday music is interrupted by calls for more cashiers to man the checkouts.

I leave with string, a pack of gum, and forget the cable.

Perhaps this mental fog is a side effect of loss. Two folks I'd met only virtually died this past weekend. One after a battle with cancer, another unexpected.

I take pause while reading online. Condolences scroll by, yet linger—burned on to the screen and making everything more important.

It's not enough to be reminded to live better or care more for the ones we love.

There is so much noise.

Nothing is fixed or permanent

(insert Sanford & Son theme) Stoplight on the main drag in Hamilton, OH

Well I didn't quite hit every day of the month with a journal entry—I mean, blog entry.

But after Project Menswear last night, I went to the bed exhausted from their challenge. I didn't actually sleep right away as I was rolling over a to-do list in my head. It's that time of year when everything ratchets up a notch and gift-guilt rears its head.

On gifts for others, I much prefer wisdom inspired by Leslie Harpold. In this instance, "When you come across something you know would be perfect for someone else, buy it for them." I do that for the most part. The true joy is finding the right box and squaring off the wrapping paper just right before securing it with tape.

I'm a harder nut to crack with the gifts I've been told. I tend to pick up the frivolous things for myself without delay when economically feasible. Can't imagine waiting for, say, Super Mario Galaxy another day more than necessary.

For the longest time I thought I was a horrible candidate for Buddhism due to my craving and collection of physical things. According to my studies through google searches, as long as these things don't make me suffer, I'm okay. I think.

When I really knit my brow trying to figure out what I want, it always comes back to time. This does not mean a clock, I have several, and one of them is fancy and projects time on the ceiling in such an annoying way that I moved it to the guest bedroom.

Current music: Jim Croce "You Don't Message Around with Jim"

Again with the colors

Is this the golden section of the year?

Today was meaty.

So was yesterday, but that seems so long ago.

Tucked in my shirt and drove to Cincinnati this morning. Great colors along the way... Just being those dozens of minutes south makes a difference. Pulled over more than once, some glimpses below.

Ate a good lunch and headed back to the studio, considering grays: fabrics, inks.

Stopped by the grocery and the produce department was saturated.

Threw a thick red steak on the Foreman. It came out perfect.

Now the soup's on the stove. Forecast suggests it'll pair nicely with tomorrow.

Good idea for a weather site might not be just what to wear, but what to eat. Be cool if it's like, totally, local.

Slideshow with a few snapshots of autumn, some old, many new

Current music: Color By Numbers "The Transitions"

strawberries and strikes

I did not take this picture

I got this note in the email box yesterday, and I have to say it brightened the morning:

(reprinted with permission, links added by me)

I first took notice of your work when I bought your Tim Gunn shirt off Ebay. I think you had a link, which I then followed and came upon your photos. The pink toy Martian in a garden sticks in my mind. I love the way you frame your pictures and how they are of mostly inanimate objects. I have since bought your hairdo shirts as well. The other day, I was walking down the street, when I saw two perfect strawberries that had been abandoned on a cement parking stopper. I took a picture. (above) I'm a member of the WGA and since we're on strike and I can't do any real writing, I thought I'd write to you and say, hey. Well done. Keep up the good work.

It's nice because I seldom take a step back and consider what I'm doing here, who's reading it, and what they see. I never realized that, indeed I do, focus on inanimate objects. That's worth a post on its own, but tis late.

But the thing that sticks is that someone's fighting to get paid for their work, and took the time to say 'hey.'

Maybe you're aware of the writers' strike. Maybe you haven't seen this video by some of the writers behind The Office. It's worth the 3 minutes and 15 seconds. But all this interconnectedness, this ability for us to read, hear, and share perspectives; it's going to change things. I hope it changes them for the good, posthaste.

And to my unknown writer out in what I figure is LA or NY, thank you for entertaining me.

...

Her response when I asked to share her photo and note: "Sure, no problem. Glad you liked the picture, when I showed it to others they were like, 'Huh?'"

(insert grin, a hopeful one)

Current music: Jude "I Know"

mental wrestling with ratios

autumn leaves are dropping fast in these parts, and this photo is barely related to my ramblings below

Been thinking about the golden ratio lately.

The recent post about Radiohead's latest album by Puddlegum might have started my mental wandering.

The piece is very well bunk, but a fun read in conspiracy theory mindset. This bit from the comments in particular pulled out a detail I hadn't noticed:

The album title can be heard in the backing vocals of Reckoner. But, did anyone notice the IN RAAAAAAAIN IN RAAAAAAAIN IN RAAAAAAAINNNNN IN RAAAAAAAIN IN RAAAAAAAINBOWS starts precisely at the albums golden section?

(sidenote: I'm super enjoying the whole In Rainbows album)

A few days later I'm reading this article about the Vignellis (hat tip to Swissmiss for that one)

Once I stopped drooling over the photo of this extraordinary design duo's apartment, I noted the sidebar lists their "peak" from 1965 to 1985.

This bothered me because I'd like to think the husband and wife team are still crafting stellar work. But maybe there's something to it. Maybe we find a sweet spot in life where all cylinders are firing in properly and the result is the height of our craft.

I figure it possible to be elastic as well, growing or shrinking according to lifespan.

Or, it's malarkey and I need to let it go.

Current music: My Morning Jacket "Golden"

Henry’s Birthday

Getting ready to blow out the candles

Birthday party for Dan's nephew on Sunday.

Nice enough weather, leaning to the hot side as the perspiration stains on my shirt would attest.

At some point I realized I forgot how old I was (and almost pulled out the driver’s license to verify). This happens from time to time and with more frequency as the calendar flips.

I'm going to be 36 this year.

Thirty-six and I still catch myself feeling a bit clueless about things in general.

All of a sudden it seemed reasonable to assume that all the older folks I looked to for answers growing up had no better understanding of life than I did.

Just making things up as we go along.

Extra snapshot: Another photo from the party

Current music: Duo 505 "Facing It"

Simply there

semi related: toothbrushes and razors

"You haven't found love recently?" she asked.

My gut response, "No."

Upon reflection, that answer warrants explanation.

I've always known love. It was never lost.

From childhood my parents were there, supportive of any endeavor and quick to offer guidance. In school I developed friendships that still stand. Though we have taken very different paths in life, we can agree on the basic tenet: I really care about your well-being. This continued through college, into the workplace and to this day.

Perhaps I bandy about the term ‘love’ too loosely, but to me, it's a simple matter of compassion and personal interest.

It is simply there.

scanned

two trips over two days

It's the time of year for my annual CT scan [ backstory on NHL for those just tuning in ]. It's necessary to split the procedure over two visits because it's more fun that way.

This year the UC hospital has a fancy new machine [ photo ] that makes these two trips go by superquick—fast enough that the injected contrast doesn't have time to wear off and you're left with a warm flush feeling like you said something terribly wrong at a party.

My oncologist's assistant left a message saying results from Friday's scan look good (that means no alarms or need for treatment most likely). So I'm left with a couple bruises and pricks on the insides of my elbows and some vague feeling that hovers between anxious and thankful.

Current music: Fiona Apple "Extraordinary Machine"

of the order Lepidoptera

Fresh from the cocoon

I would like to remember yesterday for being audience to a (very) excited four year-old, sharing a moth that just emerged from the butterfly incubator.

5 things

It's hard to focus when you can’t press the button

I've been tagged, twice, to reveal 5 things about myself that you might not know. After digging deep to share 50 things, this seems extra hard.

So to Chris Pearson, designer of good things including most excellent WordPress themes, and Swissmiss, also designer of good things and curator of many others, here goes:

1.) In 1990 I went to The Ohio State University hoping to go into film school. Turns out, they closed that major down the year I signed up for classes — so I ended up in the design program instead.

I'm happy with how things turned out. Especially after revisiting a video project from those college days (yes, film was out, but video production was kept alive). Here it is: a good example of why I shouldn't have gone into movies.

2.) I often get asked what I do for a living. Not a plug, but for 2007 I plan to help grow Wire & Twine with more products and content. In addition I hope to make t-shirts and textiles for other folks, freelance when needed, and learn some new things (that hopefully don't involve math and browser compatibility).

3.) I sleep on the left side of the bed, sharing the other half with a handsome trumpet player.

4.) I have a habit of crossing that line. You know the one, where you are supposed to use your inner voice.

5.) When I was very young, my family went on a trip to Hawaii and we took hula lessons. Whenever I wonder how I came to be the person that I am, I give credit to the hukilau.

Current music: Peeping Tom -"Five Seconds"

150 in one

Electronic Project Kit [ +zoom ]

I mentioned a trip to the thrift store on Sunday.

I tend to walk past the clothes and head to the back wall with the yellowed appliances and stacks of tattered Harlequins. The junk.

To my delight I found one of these electronic project kits for 2 bucks. Score.

I always wanted one of these growing up, but I had to prioritize and got the markers and colored pencils instead. That is why I turned out to be a designer and not an engineer—that and I've no mind for math.

I just read in someone else's journal a talk about making major changes in the middle of one’s career:

“You are standing on the edge of a huge abyss; the unkown. And then you jump. And then you see it wasn't an abyss: it was a threshold.”

Heavy duty, inspiring stuff.

I suppose I can be an engineer after all.

For now however, I'm going to focus on the immediate future: a hat full of chocolate unclaimed by trick or treaters. I should explore professions in the candy industry.

anniversary

Tiny Tina

I sat on the barber chair realizing that I'd been going to Tiny Tina for 10 years.

10 years of her dry humor, wisdom, and meticulous beard trimming (though for the first five years it was just a goatee requiring her attention.)

10 years ago I moved back to Cincinnati and started working on websites as a full-time job.

And it was 10 years ago I was diagnosed with Non-Hodgkins Lymphoma.

--

I met with my oncologist earlier this morning to go over scans and bloodwork. He can attest with a grin that I am stable (and continually breaking records - I'm heavier than ever.)

So for now I continue to be on the good side of statistics, requiring careful observation, but no treatment. It will come in it's own time.

Tina was pleased to hear the news, but mourning the loss of her dog, Bear (pictured here) who passed on last week. So there was some bad news to add perspective to the good news, handfuls of laughter, and a fine haircut.

6 month checkup

...which requires a couple CT scans

circuit city

The innards of an old Hammond organ, fingers crossed a soldiering iron works... [ +zoom ]

Quick update:

Most stuff moved.
But not all. And that last little bit? The worst. The crud you don't want to face.

And then the cleaning.

Ah moving.
I kinda sorta like the shake-up of it all. It's an opportunity to move on, and reconnect.
Defining what you hold dear, facing unfamiliar roads, and remember what you left dangling.

The checklist ever grows.

weedin

gardening at dusk

Today I did things on the computer (some fun). And then, the opportunity to pull some weeds in a garden cropped up. (insert rim shot)

it’s like having a pickup truck

staging the place

My friends asked if I'd help take a few photos of the house they're selling. I said yes because this meant free food and the joy of being in a space devoid of clutter.

Having a camera is a lot like having a pickup truck – you get "roped" into things.

But always, they're good things, and require no heavy lifting.

another Sunoco + bullet points

75 North between Cincinnati and Dayton
The "V" in the right quarter of the photograph does not represent the holy grail, to my knowledge.

I'm feeling really optimistic right this very moment.

3 am.
34.
Mid-spring.
2006.

Beer.
Full tummy.
Lots of good darts thrown on the calendar.
A few clean shirts to wear.
Some goals.
Lots of music.
Fingernails clipped.
Need a haircut.

window seat

Riding around Norwood

Signs of spring, aside from flowers:

- Feeling the stiffness of sandals not used for months.
- Driving with the windows down (dogs optional).
- Local dairy bars re-open.

sorted

for the most part

It's Friday night, St. Patrick’s Day, and I haven't even had a beer.

*rectifying that now*

(insert sound of footfalls to the fridge)

--

It's been a week.

I'm just looking photos and entries to see where I left off and what was left out. I have these grand ideas about how to somehow contain it all. And it's simply not possible.

I'm still trying to remember the good news from the doctor. That responsible feeling of depositing a check. The thrill of seeing great live theater. Checking out my mom's new kitchen. Spending time with folks I love.

There was even a blast from hometown past, lunching with an old friend. The kind of encounter that reminds you, even if you go in different directions in life, you hung out for a reason all those years ago.

It was all there this week—and some of it, caught through a lens.

This is the good stuff.

But two folks passed away this week. One, a friend of a friend, unexpected. And another a gentle, kind, beautiful person I met online, and years later in the flesh.

And now I sit here in the quiet, and think of all the people I wish I could spend time with, and all the people I can't.

diversion

Only four buttons required

I'm fighting insomnia by plugging away at an old GameBoy Advance cartridge—some Minish Cap Zelda game where you can shrink down to like 5 pixels. It's reminiscent of the 16 bit Nintendo classic, with some different moves and lots of running around.

And even though there is only one screen of action – I don't see how these games are playable without guides. I pine for simple games.

So I pretty much do the running around, get stuck, search through a PDF walkthrough, and I (as Tim Gunn would say) carry on.

Tomorrow I have to get up early for my six month appointment with the oncologist. We'll do blood work and then, hopefully, I'll go on my merry way. Like anytime, it's the waiting beforehand that makes having a little diversion like a handheld game all the better.

I have goals

Outside of the Apple store

Vicariously dropping off a laptop for repair, holiday music mixed with footsteps in the mall and I pondered the future.

I have goals I've been meaning to write down. Important long term goals.

I want to see the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade sometime in my life. Not this year, but sometime. Even better, I've heard that watching balloons get inflated the night before is less bustling and enjoyable. I can imagine it'd be more enjoyable with warm scotch warming my belly. (Tangent: A terribly truncated page about how balloons are created)

I'd quite like to end up a mall walker. The reasoning is two-fold: If I can walk in a mall, that signifies that I have reasonable health to get out and about. Secondly, it will indicate that I have not given up on society at large and retreated to crafting notes on a typewriter, isolated in the woods.

I was really hoping to have at least three goals listed here, but that's all I've got right now (Though dancing to Thriller in Lexington does strike a chord.)

50 things

A hat tip to Bryan for capturing my soul digitally with the above photo.

I've seen folks do these "100 Things About Me" exercises, and I always find them interesting. Problem is, I'm an under-acheiver. So I thought I'd just rack my brains for 50.

1. My real name is Chris Glass, and often I wished I'd have chosen another moniker for online stuff.
   
2. When I stand up, I'm 6'5"
   
3. I usually wear a baseball cap, but I was never good at sports.
   
4. I'm the youngest of four children: 2 brothers, 1 sister
   
5. I enjoyed childhood.
   
6. Except for that time I got a "body wave" in 8th grade (It wasn't a PERM!)
   
7. I once whined to my mom that, "I'm bored." She schooled me right there on the spot that there's so much to do, and some of it is wonderful.
   
8. I blame mom for burning a Big Trak in my youth, but we have no way to verify if I'm making that up, or she's lying.
   
9. My dad was fascinated with technology, gadgets, automobiles and goofball humor. I got that from him.
   
10. My greatest feat in high school was to lead my class in making kick-ass Homecoming Parade floats.
    
11. I'd often like to make floats again, or teach perhaps, or travel the country and sell stuff out of a van that VW hasn't made yet.
    
12. College was too fast, but going back seems unseemly.
    
13. I went to one Buckeye game, we lost.
    
14. I once was part of a nice small web design studio. Now, I'm kind of a freelancer.
    
15. Fat Tire is my favorite beer.
    
16. This is evident by my waistline, luckily, it is hard to get in Ohio.
    
17. I also like Budweiser.
    
18. Your mobile phone can beat up my mobile phone. Mine just makes calls and acts as a watch. [ I now use an iPhone, it is everything and my alarm clock ]
    
19. I am constantly losing my phone or its charge.
    [ not anymore ]
    
20. I believe in a higher power, and believe science is a different matter that doesn't need to overlap.
    
21. The abuse of typography gets under my skin.
    
22. I can't remember calendar dates of significance.
    
23. I'd rather be in the driver's seat.
    
24. I still keep in touch with folks I've known since I was 5 years old.
    
25. When I was 25, I was diagnosed with cancer.
    
26. Aside from my glasses, I wear no other jewelry, aside from that earring I briefly had when I went to Germany and realized it made me look gay.
    
27. I came out much later in life, and I say I don't play for the other team as much as I sit on the sidelines.
    
28. If I gave you a tour of my digs, it would be over in 1 minute.
    
29. I couldn't grow a full beard until I was 29.
    
30. If I was held at gunpoint and had to get cosmetic surgery, I would have grafts implanted into the holes in said beard get liposuction.
    
31. 25 things is starting to sound a lot better than 50 things at this point.
    
32. I'm 33 years old as I write this. [ I'm 37 now ]
    
33. I like to keep things simple. This is different than subtle.
    
34. Curse as I may under my breath about keeping a journal online, I've truly made some lasting, world-view shifting friendships from it.
    
35. I only know my checking balance because I just bought the new Grandaddy EP online.
    
36. I believe in coyotes, and time as an abstract.
    
37. I like to tidy other people's houses.
    
38. I sort my laundry into blues, browns/tans, whites and colors.
    
39. If I cover up signs on horoscopes, I can relate to all of them.
    
40. Folks I talk with all seem to pine for one thing: community.
    
41. I pine for that as well.
    
42. If a commune of awesome people doesn't pan out, I hope to rule the canasta table at the old folks home.
    
43. I have no life plan.
    
44. Not a fan of mowing grass, but I like riding on tractors.
    
45. I'm an awkward hugger, however, after much practice, I do it gladly.
    
46. I like cats and dogs, but I don't have any pets.
    
47. In the back of my mind, I think I need more sun.
    
48. I am a night person.
    
49. Given the choice of urinal or tree, I'd rather pee under the stars.
    
50. I enjoy adulthood, for the greater part.
    

Wow, you're still here! Thanks for making it to the end of these 50 things. Explore other parts of my site to fill in the blanks (insert hat tip)

[ some bits updated 8/29/09 ]