Back when I was in college, I had aspirations of working in the magazine industry.
How that was going to happen - I was a Philadelphia-area kid, with no aspirations of moving to New York - was anybody's guess.
But as a journalism major, one of our classes focused on production.
Our big assignment that semester was to produce a proposal for a new magazine. I modeled mine as a cross between People magazine and what was then Life.
My magazine, named Faces for the close-up photographs that would compose each issue, was to be an in-depth look at celebrities, popular culture influencers and other luminaries. It would feature artsy, black-and-white photographs of each article's subject. There were departments involved in each issue - involving what, I can't recall.
It was a flawed proposal, but still, it was mine. And I believed in it at the time.
As part of our research, the professor encouraged us to read about the history of various magazines' development, and if we could, interview a professional to get their take.
This was back in the 80s, before the Internet. So there was lots of reading and scrutinizing of microfiche in dark, musty corners of libraries.
Being a writer, I felt I could gain a foothold on the content aspects of my vision for my magazine. But because the visual aspect was something I was less adept at, I decided to interview a few people who knew what they were talking about.
But how?
At the time, I was an avid reader of Glamour and Rolling Stone magazines. The two could not be more dissimilar in terms of their design, or focus. But they were among the publications that inspired me to become a writer in the first place.
So, on a whim, I looked through the mastheads. Figuring I had nothing to lose, I called the main office number at Glamour, and asked to speak with a junior designer. I did the same thing at Rolling Stone.
Miraculously, both got back to me.
Even more surprisingly, each referred me to their bosses. To them, I explained about my project, the research I was doing, and my intention to speak with a professional who could provide some insights.
And art directors at both publications agreed to meet with me - simply because I'd asked!
It was a week before spring break, and I managed to find one day where I could coordinate both appointments.
Rolling Stone was in the morning, and I remember speaking with a woman with short, dark hair and straight-across bangs, who gave me all kinds of insights into photography and art direction and taking risks and establishing a visual voice.
During the Glamour meeting in the afternoon, I met with the publication's art director, who told me how photo shoots are concepted, styled, and shot. By way of example, he talked about an article about the perfect hamburger, and how the bun should be something more grand than the standard puff of white flour you get at the supermarket... that it should be glossy and seeded and the lettuce a more exotic variety than the usual pale, whitish iceberg because bright-green leaves would photograph better.
A few months later, I opened the magazine to see an article featuring just such a photograph, and I relished the behind-the-scenes information.
Each art director was focused on how the visual manifestation of their magazines' brands came through in every image that appeared in the magazine.
The photographs that appeared in Glamour would never look like Vogue's, the art director said. Each had a visual language they used to bring the editor's vision to life each month in a way that reinforced their brand.
So often, I worry about what people will say if I ask for something, but I try often to snap out of that way of thinking. What's the worst that can happen? They say no, and that's it.
I've had amazing things happen, simply because I've asked. When I look back, I realize that it's incredible what I've learned. What I've experienced. Conversations whose meaning and insight have stayed with me for half a lifetime.
If there's one thing I can say on this Independence Day, it's this: Go for it! Ask for what you want. Great things are bound to happen for you when you do.
Friday, July 4, 2008
Monday, June 30, 2008
Oh, the Irony
The box from Amazon arrived - unexpectedly - two days early. All along, I'd been looking forward to it.
"Woo-hoo! It'll arrive Wednesday, just in time for the long weekend," I thought to myself, when the shipping notification pinged its way into my inbox.
Miraculously, we have no plans this holiday weekend. And I'd intended to spend it reading, at least for the most part. Maybe taking in a fireworks display, if we can find one.
But because I can't wait, I tear open the carton, and get started. One book, in particular, had been high on my list of must-reads, and I pulled it from the box in anticipation.
I cracked open the cover, and started reading the Foreword. It was short and snappy, and it took me until the end to realize it hadn't been written by the author. No matter.
The Introduction beckoned. And so I began reading.
And reading. And reading.
After a while, I bristled at the author's style.
The Introduction plodded on and on, in long, unbroken paragraphs with nary a subhead in sight.
I skimmed ahead - a 15-page introduction?! - and then I put it down. I ached for something more sound-bitey, more fragmented.
The book in question?
Distracted: The erosion of attention and the coming dark age, by Maggie Jackson.
Guess the dark age is already here.
(But don't worry, Ms. Jackson, I'll pick it up again.)
"Woo-hoo! It'll arrive Wednesday, just in time for the long weekend," I thought to myself, when the shipping notification pinged its way into my inbox.
Miraculously, we have no plans this holiday weekend. And I'd intended to spend it reading, at least for the most part. Maybe taking in a fireworks display, if we can find one.
But because I can't wait, I tear open the carton, and get started. One book, in particular, had been high on my list of must-reads, and I pulled it from the box in anticipation.
I cracked open the cover, and started reading the Foreword. It was short and snappy, and it took me until the end to realize it hadn't been written by the author. No matter.
The Introduction beckoned. And so I began reading.
And reading. And reading.
After a while, I bristled at the author's style.
The Introduction plodded on and on, in long, unbroken paragraphs with nary a subhead in sight.
I skimmed ahead - a 15-page introduction?! - and then I put it down. I ached for something more sound-bitey, more fragmented.
The book in question?
Distracted: The erosion of attention and the coming dark age, by Maggie Jackson.
Guess the dark age is already here.
(But don't worry, Ms. Jackson, I'll pick it up again.)
Saturday, June 28, 2008
Brave New Worlds
Yesterday, I had lunch with two old friends. And the short time we spent together reaffirmed why we're still in touch.
Each of us had big things happening in our lives, and it was exciting to reconnect and see the spark that the new challenges had to offer.
One friend is about to move to his first house, after having taken on a job at a start-up where he is clearly in "the zone" -- his clients clearly benefit from his expertise, and his knowledge is built upon every day. He clearly relishes the challenge.
Another is laying the foundation for a major life change that means he'll be following his bliss. (This one, you can tell by the twinkle in his eye and the change in his energy that he realizes he's onto something great.)
Me, with my new job, I'm following the peaks and troughs that come with stepping into any new territory. Overall, it's a mash-up between all the different aspects of communications that I've thrived on throughout my career.
At the end of our lunch, I realized how glad I was that I've kept in touch with these folks over the years. (I knew these two back in elementary school, for crying out loud!)
Variety, being the spice of life, is definitely in abundance in my new gig.
The same goes for my friends. And for that, I am both thankful and thrilled.
Each of us had big things happening in our lives, and it was exciting to reconnect and see the spark that the new challenges had to offer.
One friend is about to move to his first house, after having taken on a job at a start-up where he is clearly in "the zone" -- his clients clearly benefit from his expertise, and his knowledge is built upon every day. He clearly relishes the challenge.
Another is laying the foundation for a major life change that means he'll be following his bliss. (This one, you can tell by the twinkle in his eye and the change in his energy that he realizes he's onto something great.)
Me, with my new job, I'm following the peaks and troughs that come with stepping into any new territory. Overall, it's a mash-up between all the different aspects of communications that I've thrived on throughout my career.
At the end of our lunch, I realized how glad I was that I've kept in touch with these folks over the years. (I knew these two back in elementary school, for crying out loud!)
Variety, being the spice of life, is definitely in abundance in my new gig.
The same goes for my friends. And for that, I am both thankful and thrilled.
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Not What I Ordered
It escapes me how prosciutto can be so often misspelled, in Italian restaurants, no less.
If I had a dollar for every typo I've found in a restaurant menu - well, I could hire a personal chef.
While it may not be your strength, communicating your offerings with the respect your customers deserve by composing a menu that is correct is simply part of the job as a chef or restaurateur.
Sometimes, when perusing a particularly badly edited menu, I find myself more distracted by the errors than the foams and reductions that should be catching my eye, instead.
It's heartening to know that I'm not the only one who feels this way.
If I had a dollar for every typo I've found in a restaurant menu - well, I could hire a personal chef.
While it may not be your strength, communicating your offerings with the respect your customers deserve by composing a menu that is correct is simply part of the job as a chef or restaurateur.
Sometimes, when perusing a particularly badly edited menu, I find myself more distracted by the errors than the foams and reductions that should be catching my eye, instead.
It's heartening to know that I'm not the only one who feels this way.
Vindicated!
Finally, someone has engaged in serious study on the subject of multi-tasking and its ineffectiveness.
All week, I've seen articles by Maggie Jackson, referring to her book, Distracted.
The office of the millennium is rampant with distractions. From colleagues' discussions through cheesy burlap cubicle walls that offer no sound buffer whatsoever, to loud arguments in the hallways, to impromptu brainstorming sessions between collaborating colleagues.
I'm not saying that offices should be silent. That people should squirrel themselves away in their cubicles, never to be heard from until lunchtime. And I'm really not in support of more interruption-oriented tools that purport to do the opposite. (A "whisper" is just as annoying as an IM, in my opinion.)
What I take issue with is how it's been said that all of this open-space office design is not just about cramming more people into less space than a traditional office with a door would allow (and to that, I say: ha!).
But the spin is that cubicles and open-space office interiors exist to foster collaboration.
Now, I'm all about collaboration. I applaud it.
However, I don't think collaboration can be fostered by the space.
It's about the people and their ideas, not the walls or lack thereof.
Collaboration is simply bound to happen spontaneously, when two people are chatting about a problem. And sometimes trying something out - evaluating it on screen, and fixing it on the fly, and whooping in celebratory appreciation of an intractable problem solved. That's how innovation happens.
I get that.
But I don't get that people disrespect the fact that you're obviously working, typing away, trying to get something done, and just walk right into a cubicle and interrupt without asking permission.
It's simple common courtesy. Office Etiquette 101.
Studies have shown that interruptions cause workers to take 30 more minutes to get back to the task at hand. I get interrupted on average at least 20 times a day - so what does that say about my schedule?
No wonder it seems like our to-do lists are only growing, never getting shorter...
There simply aren't enough hours in the day.
All week, I've seen articles by Maggie Jackson, referring to her book, Distracted.
The office of the millennium is rampant with distractions. From colleagues' discussions through cheesy burlap cubicle walls that offer no sound buffer whatsoever, to loud arguments in the hallways, to impromptu brainstorming sessions between collaborating colleagues.
I'm not saying that offices should be silent. That people should squirrel themselves away in their cubicles, never to be heard from until lunchtime. And I'm really not in support of more interruption-oriented tools that purport to do the opposite. (A "whisper" is just as annoying as an IM, in my opinion.)
What I take issue with is how it's been said that all of this open-space office design is not just about cramming more people into less space than a traditional office with a door would allow (and to that, I say: ha!).
But the spin is that cubicles and open-space office interiors exist to foster collaboration.
Now, I'm all about collaboration. I applaud it.
However, I don't think collaboration can be fostered by the space.
It's about the people and their ideas, not the walls or lack thereof.
Collaboration is simply bound to happen spontaneously, when two people are chatting about a problem. And sometimes trying something out - evaluating it on screen, and fixing it on the fly, and whooping in celebratory appreciation of an intractable problem solved. That's how innovation happens.
I get that.
But I don't get that people disrespect the fact that you're obviously working, typing away, trying to get something done, and just walk right into a cubicle and interrupt without asking permission.
It's simple common courtesy. Office Etiquette 101.
Studies have shown that interruptions cause workers to take 30 more minutes to get back to the task at hand. I get interrupted on average at least 20 times a day - so what does that say about my schedule?
No wonder it seems like our to-do lists are only growing, never getting shorter...
There simply aren't enough hours in the day.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Love Those Endorphins
Woke up this morning, scattered of thought, stressed about a big meeting.
Not only that, but I'd tiptoed out of bed toward our front window, having awakened to noises outside at 3 a.m.
Two cars and two passenger vans seemingly chock-full of people were parked in front of my neighbor's house, with people switching seats and making quiet mayhem in the street.
Peering out into the darkness, I wondered what was up, but could tell it was benign and orderly. (This morning, we realized it was probably their house guests, readying to take an early flight back home with a tour full of people.)
So... aside from a side dish of work worries, a lack of sleep played with my already-jangled nerves.
When the iPod revved up at 6 a.m. and woke us gently with some jazz, my husband suggested I take a walk to calm down and get ready for the day.
And lo, it worked!
Days like this, where the morning temps hover around 60 degrees are my favorite.
The air was clear, the humidity was low and the hydrangeas were just starting to bloom.
Perfection.
Not only that, but I'd tiptoed out of bed toward our front window, having awakened to noises outside at 3 a.m.
Two cars and two passenger vans seemingly chock-full of people were parked in front of my neighbor's house, with people switching seats and making quiet mayhem in the street.
Peering out into the darkness, I wondered what was up, but could tell it was benign and orderly. (This morning, we realized it was probably their house guests, readying to take an early flight back home with a tour full of people.)
So... aside from a side dish of work worries, a lack of sleep played with my already-jangled nerves.
When the iPod revved up at 6 a.m. and woke us gently with some jazz, my husband suggested I take a walk to calm down and get ready for the day.
And lo, it worked!
Days like this, where the morning temps hover around 60 degrees are my favorite.
The air was clear, the humidity was low and the hydrangeas were just starting to bloom.
Perfection.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Prescription: More Surprises
Some people find comfort in the rut.
Now, I can't say that I'm all about change - I can enjoy a good rut as much as anyone else.
The comfort of that repetition can provide some stability when the world around you is chaotic.
But opening up to the new can be restorative, soul-feeding, inspiring.
Like watching some of the Iconoclast series, recommended first to me by fellow blogger, Kitty, over at New York Portraits.
Just a few days ago, I was scrolling through the DVR, looking for something interesting to watch when I spotted the episode featuring Mike Myers and Deepak Chopra.
An unlikely combo if there ever was one.
As the episode unfolded, we learn that Myers has long been a friend of Chopra's, that he's studied Eastern philosophy and religions.
One of the most lovely quotes from the episode came from Chopra, who pointed out:
And it's true - most of the most joyful times in my life have been when I've been surprised.
By a situation I've found myself in...
By bumping into a friend unexpectedly on the street...
By how much fun I'm having at an event I'd dreaded attending...
By the connection I've made between two disparate ideas.
One thing I've found is that the joy can register as ultra-powerful within the context of surprise. It's as if the surprise factor ratchets up the enjoyment by 10.
What do you think: Does the element of surprise add to the joy?
Now, I can't say that I'm all about change - I can enjoy a good rut as much as anyone else.
The comfort of that repetition can provide some stability when the world around you is chaotic.
But opening up to the new can be restorative, soul-feeding, inspiring.
Like watching some of the Iconoclast series, recommended first to me by fellow blogger, Kitty, over at New York Portraits.
Just a few days ago, I was scrolling through the DVR, looking for something interesting to watch when I spotted the episode featuring Mike Myers and Deepak Chopra.
An unlikely combo if there ever was one.
As the episode unfolded, we learn that Myers has long been a friend of Chopra's, that he's studied Eastern philosophy and religions.
One of the most lovely quotes from the episode came from Chopra, who pointed out:
"Life can be a series of perpetual surprises - that's the most joyful experience you can have."
And it's true - most of the most joyful times in my life have been when I've been surprised.
By a situation I've found myself in...
By bumping into a friend unexpectedly on the street...
By how much fun I'm having at an event I'd dreaded attending...
By the connection I've made between two disparate ideas.
One thing I've found is that the joy can register as ultra-powerful within the context of surprise. It's as if the surprise factor ratchets up the enjoyment by 10.
What do you think: Does the element of surprise add to the joy?
Life from Both Sides
On Friday, when I first saw the headlines about Tim Russert's death, I suddenly felt very sad.
I'd long admired his ability to moderate all the discussions - whether roundtables of pundits or presidential debates.
Tim Russert was one of those people I think of as operating on a higher plane - by that I mean that state of flow where you're at the proverbial top of your game, perfectly in sync with your strengths and interests, informed and in total control of a situation.
And in reading about his devotion to his family and faith, and what they call his blue-collar roots, I only felt a little more melancholy.
But learning that he had just returned from a celebratory trip to Italy with his wife and newly graduated son, that he died at work, a place and a situation he clearly relished, my thoughts changed.
Here was a man who clearly left this world his own terms, his heart likely full of joy and love, instead of fear and a sense of foreboding.
We should all be so fortunate.
I'd long admired his ability to moderate all the discussions - whether roundtables of pundits or presidential debates.
Tim Russert was one of those people I think of as operating on a higher plane - by that I mean that state of flow where you're at the proverbial top of your game, perfectly in sync with your strengths and interests, informed and in total control of a situation.
And in reading about his devotion to his family and faith, and what they call his blue-collar roots, I only felt a little more melancholy.
But learning that he had just returned from a celebratory trip to Italy with his wife and newly graduated son, that he died at work, a place and a situation he clearly relished, my thoughts changed.
Here was a man who clearly left this world his own terms, his heart likely full of joy and love, instead of fear and a sense of foreboding.
We should all be so fortunate.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Top Chef Got it Right
Being somewhat reserved myself, I just cheered inside when Stephanie, with her controlled, non-flashy, self-doubting manner, and her ricotta poundcake with banana cream (huh?) took Top Chef Honors last night.
Despite keeping Lisa - um, why? - until the end, the judges got it right.
As another blogger reviewed, the Anthony Bourdain-led episode where Dale got ditched was the huge mistake. Lisa should have been sent packing and shown the door.
In the back of my mind, I'd pegged it as a contest between Stephanie and Richard, who just kind of fell apart in the face of the enormity of it all... (How Stephanie kept her cool when bossing around totally HAWT Eric Ripert - that accent! that hair! that knife-work! - I do not know!)
I feel bad for him to have been shown up by the girl who all season long churned out barely tolerable Asian-inspired food. Although I have not ever had pork belly, the dish Richard made looked just, unappetizing.
But just a tip? If you're ever making a show-stopping meal, anything with the words "pound cake" just won't cut it.
Despite keeping Lisa - um, why? - until the end, the judges got it right.
As another blogger reviewed, the Anthony Bourdain-led episode where Dale got ditched was the huge mistake. Lisa should have been sent packing and shown the door.
In the back of my mind, I'd pegged it as a contest between Stephanie and Richard, who just kind of fell apart in the face of the enormity of it all... (How Stephanie kept her cool when bossing around totally HAWT Eric Ripert - that accent! that hair! that knife-work! - I do not know!)
I feel bad for him to have been shown up by the girl who all season long churned out barely tolerable Asian-inspired food. Although I have not ever had pork belly, the dish Richard made looked just, unappetizing.
But just a tip? If you're ever making a show-stopping meal, anything with the words "pound cake" just won't cut it.
Sunday, June 8, 2008
Plan B
With the temperature in the high-90s and major humidity already thickening the air, a friend and I arrived in Center City Philadelphia just before noon.
Luckily, our exit from the parking garage where we'd stowed the car meant we started viewing the Rittenhouse Square Fine Arts festival from the shady side of the park.
There were many interesting artists, but I'd forgotten how painting-centric this show is - and this year it was more of the same.
In tent after tent, artists offered a window into their worlds - some more literally than others. Each had their own style, but some really had a shtick: one artist displayed nothing but paintings of sides of buildings, with the action taking place inside sporadically placed windows. One of these paintings stopped us in our tracks, two were kind of interesting, but after that, it felt like a production line mentality, the same theme rendered in different hues and buildings so visitors could choose one in a color palette that matched the sofa.
We meandered around the square, and for the first two sides we visited, we each found works we responded to - and in pointing out a Raku-fired series of tiles in one artist's booth, my friend mentioned off-handedly that he'd been a serious potter at one point in his life - who knew?!
After making our way around the square, and hitting the organic farm stands that lined Walnut Street, we set off for the David Sedaris book-signing.
As we approached the bookstore, hundreds of people were already waiting in line outside - in the broiling heat. Quickly, I procured a book from the table just in front of the entrance, and asked the sales staff how long Mr. Sedaris would be signing books.
"Until the last customer's book is signed!" a woman answered. As she spoke, an ardent fan tumbled out of the tiny bookstore with a friend, gushing: "It was *so* worth it!"
With hundreds of people still waiting to be admitted into the bookstore, the bright mid-day sun beating down on them, my friend and I decided to grab some lunch to cool off, before getting in line. We headed off to Tria, a wine and cheese bar, for iced tea and salads with figs and gorgonzola.
Refreshed an hour later, we headed back down the street to the line, which hadn't budged.
So we set off to shop a little, and ended up at Capogiro, for the best gelato in the city. Blood orange sorbetto and strawberries and cream gelato were the perfect antidote to a sweltering day.
Do you see a theme?
We got back into line, standing just a couple of people away from the same group of women we'd spoken with when we first stood in line. And now, thanks to the sun's trajectory, we were standing in shade! Glorious, cooling shade.
Only after about three minutes, we were ready to faint from the heat, with 100 more people ahead of us. At the rate they were admitting people to the store, we would have to wait another two to three hours.
I'm sure if we had stayed, we'd have experienced David Sedaris' patented brand of humor up close. Been able to pay tribute to a writer whose style I've long admired. Tell him how much I enjoyed his recounting the verbal fumblings of his French class, explaining the particulars of the Easter celebration to a non-Christian classmate.
So we bailed.
At first, I explained it away that the heat made the whole process intolerable. And it did.
But in talking about how, "Oh, in the fall or late spring it would be lovely to have an excuse to stand outside for several hours," I realized that I couldn't imagine anyone for whom I'd be willing to stand outside for five hours in a row on the sidewalk.
No matter which way I thought about it, standing in line for hours just seemed such a tremendous waste of time.
Because a gorgeous fall day could mean walking through the park, or touring many of the city's gardens, or trudging from museum to museum.
Waiting in line - even for someone whose work I respect - couldn't hold a candle to any of that.
Luckily, our exit from the parking garage where we'd stowed the car meant we started viewing the Rittenhouse Square Fine Arts festival from the shady side of the park.
There were many interesting artists, but I'd forgotten how painting-centric this show is - and this year it was more of the same.
In tent after tent, artists offered a window into their worlds - some more literally than others. Each had their own style, but some really had a shtick: one artist displayed nothing but paintings of sides of buildings, with the action taking place inside sporadically placed windows. One of these paintings stopped us in our tracks, two were kind of interesting, but after that, it felt like a production line mentality, the same theme rendered in different hues and buildings so visitors could choose one in a color palette that matched the sofa.
We meandered around the square, and for the first two sides we visited, we each found works we responded to - and in pointing out a Raku-fired series of tiles in one artist's booth, my friend mentioned off-handedly that he'd been a serious potter at one point in his life - who knew?!
After making our way around the square, and hitting the organic farm stands that lined Walnut Street, we set off for the David Sedaris book-signing.
As we approached the bookstore, hundreds of people were already waiting in line outside - in the broiling heat. Quickly, I procured a book from the table just in front of the entrance, and asked the sales staff how long Mr. Sedaris would be signing books.
"Until the last customer's book is signed!" a woman answered. As she spoke, an ardent fan tumbled out of the tiny bookstore with a friend, gushing: "It was *so* worth it!"
With hundreds of people still waiting to be admitted into the bookstore, the bright mid-day sun beating down on them, my friend and I decided to grab some lunch to cool off, before getting in line. We headed off to Tria, a wine and cheese bar, for iced tea and salads with figs and gorgonzola.
Refreshed an hour later, we headed back down the street to the line, which hadn't budged.
So we set off to shop a little, and ended up at Capogiro, for the best gelato in the city. Blood orange sorbetto and strawberries and cream gelato were the perfect antidote to a sweltering day.
Do you see a theme?
We got back into line, standing just a couple of people away from the same group of women we'd spoken with when we first stood in line. And now, thanks to the sun's trajectory, we were standing in shade! Glorious, cooling shade.
Only after about three minutes, we were ready to faint from the heat, with 100 more people ahead of us. At the rate they were admitting people to the store, we would have to wait another two to three hours.
I'm sure if we had stayed, we'd have experienced David Sedaris' patented brand of humor up close. Been able to pay tribute to a writer whose style I've long admired. Tell him how much I enjoyed his recounting the verbal fumblings of his French class, explaining the particulars of the Easter celebration to a non-Christian classmate.
So we bailed.
At first, I explained it away that the heat made the whole process intolerable. And it did.
But in talking about how, "Oh, in the fall or late spring it would be lovely to have an excuse to stand outside for several hours," I realized that I couldn't imagine anyone for whom I'd be willing to stand outside for five hours in a row on the sidewalk.
No matter which way I thought about it, standing in line for hours just seemed such a tremendous waste of time.
Because a gorgeous fall day could mean walking through the park, or touring many of the city's gardens, or trudging from museum to museum.
Waiting in line - even for someone whose work I respect - couldn't hold a candle to any of that.
Saturday, June 7, 2008
Hot Child in the City
That old Nick Gilder song always runs through my head during the sticky, summer-swelter days, like the one that's on tap for today.
Today, despite the heat I'm headed into Philadelphia for a day of fun that includes checking out the Rittenhouse Square Fine Arts Show with a friend, and standing in line for the David Sedaris book-signing event at Joseph Fox Bookshop in center city.
The art show is one that I've visited before but not for many years. Fine artists set up their wares under canopies, and you can talk to them about their work and approach and what inspires them. There's one artist whose painted wooden boxes are a unique collaboration with her artist husband. There are a few on her website that look just wonderful, but I have no idea of the price.
In a unique twist on the usual book-signing for Mr. Sedaris - which I've heard can involve standing in line for four (four?!) hours - the bookstore has collaborated with nearby merchants to throw a block party in his honor. Aside from making the wait more tolerable, it could be provide a fabulous people-watching venue.
More to come...
Today, despite the heat I'm headed into Philadelphia for a day of fun that includes checking out the Rittenhouse Square Fine Arts Show with a friend, and standing in line for the David Sedaris book-signing event at Joseph Fox Bookshop in center city.
The art show is one that I've visited before but not for many years. Fine artists set up their wares under canopies, and you can talk to them about their work and approach and what inspires them. There's one artist whose painted wooden boxes are a unique collaboration with her artist husband. There are a few on her website that look just wonderful, but I have no idea of the price.
In a unique twist on the usual book-signing for Mr. Sedaris - which I've heard can involve standing in line for four (four?!) hours - the bookstore has collaborated with nearby merchants to throw a block party in his honor. Aside from making the wait more tolerable, it could be provide a fabulous people-watching venue.
More to come...
Thursday, June 5, 2008
Mid-Year Checkpoint
At the start of this year, full of hope and clean-slate promise, I made a list of goals for myself.
Here, at the almost-midway checkpoint, I'm revisiting what it was, in an ideal world, that I saw myself doing for 2008 and how I've fared so far, and maybe any lessons learned along the way.
Can't say it's been the most goal-focused year so far, at least not according to these goals I set way back when there was snow on the ground and I was cooped-up in the house writing at my desk overlooking my little street. But in reaching for these goals, I learned a few things along the way...
Here, at the almost-midway checkpoint, I'm revisiting what it was, in an ideal world, that I saw myself doing for 2008 and how I've fared so far, and maybe any lessons learned along the way.
Can't say it's been the most goal-focused year so far, at least not according to these goals I set way back when there was snow on the ground and I was cooped-up in the house writing at my desk overlooking my little street. But in reaching for these goals, I learned a few things along the way...
1. Learning a new recipe every week:
Thanks to the influx of magazines that find their way into our house, we're trying new recipes fairly regularly. Although I far away from my goal of one per week. I did try a Cooking Light recipe for a lemon cake that was truly atrocious, so I'd warn you against that. Mine turned out like two rubbery disks cemented together with a gummy cream cheese/lemon frosting.
Lesson learned? When baking, go for the gusto, make the full-fat cake, eat two generous slices and then work out extra-hard to make up for it. Life's too short for unsatisfying, lowfat cake.
2. Seeing every movie that piques my fancy:
Wow, that seemed so much more important when I was cooped up in the house. But I did manage to see Sex and the City with my sister - she and I watched the last two years of the show together, so it was like old times.
3. Traveling to places that make me feel more awake and alive:
Well, I've incorporated a few of these into my outlook on life, like Number 3. The Gryphon Cafe (amazing chicken salad with capers and artichoke hearts, along with the best coffee) is a bit of a schlep at about 30 minutes away, near other places where I run errands every once in a while. Since my schedule's been crammed full lately, I've not had time to get out there in the past six weeks. But I'm hoping that will change - as early as this weekend.
4. Organizing more outings with friends:
Hm... This has been quasi-successful, but I want to do more. So this stays on the list.
5. Spending more fun time with my niece and nephew, smart creative kids who keep me smiling:
Some of my fondest memories of these kids will always be of the conversations we have. They're both really thoughtful, funny and egg each other on. Each has his or her own intelligent take on things, and I really just enjoy seeing how they think.
6. Adopting a better house-cleaning schedule, focusing on the relaxing sense of order that results:
Housecleaning? Feh. That went nowhere.
7. Reading more books that make me feel like writing:
Well, file this under best-laid plans. For now, at my new job, I'm reading all day long and writing and being incredibly productive. So I'll grace myself the reading-for-inspiration, although I really do enjoy the sense of escape that comes from a good story.
8. Taking a different approach to work by focusing more on learning-innovating-thriving:
A few things are making this difficult at the moment, but this week has been on where I've felt like I've leaped ahead in terms of knowledge and growth. Did you ever literally feel yourself growing? I've had that feeling many times in my life, and that's what this week has been for me.
9. Spotting the art in everyday life:
Bull's eye! With spring and the onset of summer, what's not to love? There are flowers everywhere you turn, leaves on trees in different shapes and sizes, fudgsicles, iconic sunscreen bottles, the sun hitting buildings at crazy angles, brilliant sunsets, still lives anywhere a bowl of fruit can be found. I've just not been so diligent at toting around my camera, unlike some people.
10. Enjoying the good parts of every day:
I sort of knew I was tempting fate by writing about Productivity vs. Drama, because then suddenly a little bit of drama unleashed itself. But paying attention is half the battle. So often we get caught up in the drama of whatever is going on that we neglect to see the good that's hidden around the bend.
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Productivity Vs. Drama
This must be different for different people, and at different times of one's life, but I find that the less drama I have to deal with, the more productive I am.
I use the word "drama" as a placeholder for many things, but basically it's referring to something that stirs the pot to no apparent other benefit.
When the seas are calm, I find that my mind is relaxed enough to fire off quick decisions, write with more confidence, and see creative solutions through a lens that renders them more sharply than when the perfect storm is brewing.
Maybe energy is just sucked from a situation when the black hole of drama is present. I don't know.
All I know is that there has been fairly little drama in my life for the past month, yet it's been one of the most productive I've ever experienced.
Monday, June 2, 2008
Cures What Ails You
So many people at work are sick with colds or allergies today. I left with a lump in my throat, convinced that I, too, was working on a cold.
Coffee? Tea? I thought, on the way home, convinced the hot liquid would help.
My husband's feeling the pain, too.
"If it weren't so darned warm, I'd eat chicken soup," he said. Ditto for the coffee and tea - it just has no appeal when the weather approaches 80, and we haven't fired up the A/C yet.
Guess I'll just have to dig into the freezer and come up with a grocery-store remedy: Cookies 'N Cream ice cream. Yum.
Coffee? Tea? I thought, on the way home, convinced the hot liquid would help.
My husband's feeling the pain, too.
"If it weren't so darned warm, I'd eat chicken soup," he said. Ditto for the coffee and tea - it just has no appeal when the weather approaches 80, and we haven't fired up the A/C yet.
Guess I'll just have to dig into the freezer and come up with a grocery-store remedy: Cookies 'N Cream ice cream. Yum.
Friday, May 30, 2008
Going Retro
They say communication can be challenging when Mercury is retrograde.
When communication is how one make's one's living, well... suffice it to say that good old Mercury might account for the fact that I've felt like I've been swimming through jello for days -- all elbows-out action, bone-rattling fatigue but barely any progress to show for it.
Mercury's winged foot has been kicking my butt all week!
Although I have to say, I have some pretty awesome people in my life right now. The psychological support brought on by the idea of "I've got your back" and just knowing other people sympathize and can help out and give advice when you're feeling swamped is good for shoring up the emotional resources needed to get over the hump that stands between you and progress on the to-do list.
It's hard for me to ask for help and I've come to understand that's a character flaw. Playing nice with others while being a responsible, self-sufficient worker - with a heaping helping of creative idea wrangling - has always been my modus operandi.
But if I'm not careful, it degrades into the worst form of perfectionism-plagued procrastination. Can't do it perfect, so it's not worth starting now.
That turns into a major problem when there's lots to do and lots to learn.
So I'm about to go nose-down into planning mode, working on a few things that will make next week awesome and give me a leg up on some projects that have been looming.
I always hated those aphorisms of "If you fail to plan, you plan to fail" and others of that ilk. But I have to admit, there's some truth to it in some cases.
What do you do to pull yourself out of a retrograde rut?
When communication is how one make's one's living, well... suffice it to say that good old Mercury might account for the fact that I've felt like I've been swimming through jello for days -- all elbows-out action, bone-rattling fatigue but barely any progress to show for it.
Mercury's winged foot has been kicking my butt all week!
Although I have to say, I have some pretty awesome people in my life right now. The psychological support brought on by the idea of "I've got your back" and just knowing other people sympathize and can help out and give advice when you're feeling swamped is good for shoring up the emotional resources needed to get over the hump that stands between you and progress on the to-do list.
It's hard for me to ask for help and I've come to understand that's a character flaw. Playing nice with others while being a responsible, self-sufficient worker - with a heaping helping of creative idea wrangling - has always been my modus operandi.
But if I'm not careful, it degrades into the worst form of perfectionism-plagued procrastination. Can't do it perfect, so it's not worth starting now.
That turns into a major problem when there's lots to do and lots to learn.
So I'm about to go nose-down into planning mode, working on a few things that will make next week awesome and give me a leg up on some projects that have been looming.
I always hated those aphorisms of "If you fail to plan, you plan to fail" and others of that ilk. But I have to admit, there's some truth to it in some cases.
What do you do to pull yourself out of a retrograde rut?
Thursday, May 29, 2008
The Short-Week Scramble
It has been a whirlwind of a week, let me tell you... This sculpture depicts what I've felt like the past few days. The off-kilter-ness, the swirling, feeling caught in a net. If only for the swarm of butterflies, it would be a perfect metaphor.
When the long weekend was upon us, I was all a-twitter. Three days! Of blissful weather and lots of time to luxuriate in it, with minimal commitments. Ah.
But I'd forgotten the dirty little secrets of those long weekends - that they result in shorter weeks. And the deadlines? Feh, they just keep pilin' on!
So cramming 40 hours into 4 days is harder than I remember it. When was that last holiday, again?
I'm just pressing on, though. Friday's almost here, baby, and I can just imagine all the grilling that's going to happen this weekend. Even if it rains, we're covered.
Oh, yeah.
But I'd forgotten the dirty little secrets of those long weekends - that they result in shorter weeks. And the deadlines? Feh, they just keep pilin' on!
So cramming 40 hours into 4 days is harder than I remember it. When was that last holiday, again?
I'm just pressing on, though. Friday's almost here, baby, and I can just imagine all the grilling that's going to happen this weekend. Even if it rains, we're covered.
Oh, yeah.
What are you doing this weekend?
Monday, May 26, 2008
Brownies as a Differentiator
Now, I can make homemade brownies. But certain people in my family prefer the gooey fakeness that is a specific type of grocery-store brownie covered in frosting.
And yes, I admit: when they're in the house, I eat 'em, too.
So with a barbeque on tap for Memorial Day weekend, I set out to go to said grocery store to purchase these brownies.
In response to ever-increasing competition in my area with other, newer, better, more gourmet-ified grocery stores, this store has been undergoing major construction for what seems like a good six months or more. So every time I've stopped by, I leave in frustration because nothing is where it should be and nobody's around to help you figure it out.
But I forged on, knowing that a certain someone was itching for some frosted-brownie deliciousness.
My plan included, as a good counter-balance, baking a homemade Cooking Light lemon cake as a dessert alternative for whomever preferred citrusy sugar to chocolatey awesomeness.
So I get to the grocery store, bracing myself for a construction nightmare, when I find that lo! The construction has abated. It seems - dare I say? - finished, or reasonably close to it.
There's a new food court (why a grocery store needs to have a food court is really beyond me, but I've lost that battle), a facelifted modern design that shows they've been reading Grocery Retailer Today or Today's Grocery Shopper or whatever the industry publication is noting that people want sophisticated color schemes and cool fonts telling them where they'll find their artisanal-style bread.
Despite the construction being finished, the overall effect is disappointing. Because they still have the same bad selection of groceries as before. The same inferior-level produce. The same haphazard displays. Only now the aisles seem narrower, and people have to squeeze to get by if someone is stopping in the aisle to select a can of soup or load up on Cheez Doodles.
Still, I make my way to the bakery department.
A little history: This store used to be a Genuardi's store, a locally owned chain in the Philadelphia suburbs that emphasized fresh produce and friendly service. A few years ago, they were swallowed up by the Safeway behemoth and almost overnight, the quality of nearly every product I shopped for there had degraded into less-than-stellar offerings.
Still, with the new facelift, I thought I'd give them a try.
So I ventured to the new bakery section, to fetch the pan of frosted brownies I came there to get.
I see a couple of stray packs of three gourmet brownies, but no frosted. Hm.
A bakery employee zooms by with a cart full of product and starts stocking, so I ask her where I'd find the brownies.
Well, you can predict from this long preamble what happened next: Genuardi's no longer carries their delicious frosted brownies. The employee proceeds to tell me that many customers have demanded they bring them back.
Apparently, this person tells me, it was decided to discontinue the frosted brownies, "because no other stores in the area were carrying them." Apparently, it also takes six months for a new product (the tri-piece gourmet version) to be phased out and a new product phased in.
But this isn't a new product - it's an old product! A standby that seemed to do perfectly well!
And another thing... Doesn't having a different product from everyone else give you an edge on the competition, then? Last time I checked, differentiation was a good thing.
I do not understand this. A product that's popular, that they have cornered the market on, they decide to do away with?!
What is it with all this me-too thinking? Carve out a niche for crying out loud! Take a stand, Genuardi's/Safeway!
And yes, I admit: when they're in the house, I eat 'em, too.
So with a barbeque on tap for Memorial Day weekend, I set out to go to said grocery store to purchase these brownies.
In response to ever-increasing competition in my area with other, newer, better, more gourmet-ified grocery stores, this store has been undergoing major construction for what seems like a good six months or more. So every time I've stopped by, I leave in frustration because nothing is where it should be and nobody's around to help you figure it out.
But I forged on, knowing that a certain someone was itching for some frosted-brownie deliciousness.
My plan included, as a good counter-balance, baking a homemade Cooking Light lemon cake as a dessert alternative for whomever preferred citrusy sugar to chocolatey awesomeness.
So I get to the grocery store, bracing myself for a construction nightmare, when I find that lo! The construction has abated. It seems - dare I say? - finished, or reasonably close to it.
There's a new food court (why a grocery store needs to have a food court is really beyond me, but I've lost that battle), a facelifted modern design that shows they've been reading Grocery Retailer Today or Today's Grocery Shopper or whatever the industry publication is noting that people want sophisticated color schemes and cool fonts telling them where they'll find their artisanal-style bread.
Despite the construction being finished, the overall effect is disappointing. Because they still have the same bad selection of groceries as before. The same inferior-level produce. The same haphazard displays. Only now the aisles seem narrower, and people have to squeeze to get by if someone is stopping in the aisle to select a can of soup or load up on Cheez Doodles.
Still, I make my way to the bakery department.
A little history: This store used to be a Genuardi's store, a locally owned chain in the Philadelphia suburbs that emphasized fresh produce and friendly service. A few years ago, they were swallowed up by the Safeway behemoth and almost overnight, the quality of nearly every product I shopped for there had degraded into less-than-stellar offerings.
Still, with the new facelift, I thought I'd give them a try.
So I ventured to the new bakery section, to fetch the pan of frosted brownies I came there to get.
I see a couple of stray packs of three gourmet brownies, but no frosted. Hm.
A bakery employee zooms by with a cart full of product and starts stocking, so I ask her where I'd find the brownies.
Well, you can predict from this long preamble what happened next: Genuardi's no longer carries their delicious frosted brownies. The employee proceeds to tell me that many customers have demanded they bring them back.
Apparently, this person tells me, it was decided to discontinue the frosted brownies, "because no other stores in the area were carrying them." Apparently, it also takes six months for a new product (the tri-piece gourmet version) to be phased out and a new product phased in.
But this isn't a new product - it's an old product! A standby that seemed to do perfectly well!
And another thing... Doesn't having a different product from everyone else give you an edge on the competition, then? Last time I checked, differentiation was a good thing.
I do not understand this. A product that's popular, that they have cornered the market on, they decide to do away with?!
What is it with all this me-too thinking? Carve out a niche for crying out loud! Take a stand, Genuardi's/Safeway!
Friday, May 23, 2008
How to Start Your Day Right
Squeeze a little extra sleep past the wake-up music drizzling out of the iPod.
Arise to sunshine dappling the trees - a welcome change from rainy gray starts to last several days.
Window shades up, light fills bedroom, dancing across honey-colored hardwood floors.
Read random Real Simple article about herb compatible garden plant pairings.
Saunter down to end of driveway to pick up newspaper.
Catch sight of flower beds, with past-their-prime bulb foliage reminding you to plant annuals.
Consider riot of purple and gold pansies, reminiscent of your high school colors.
Decide on petunias, purple wave, to introduce explosive unruly color.
Make mental note to stop by fairy-tale plant nursery, the one with the shady inspiration garden you can walk through on the way in to the retail area.
Stretch.
Add toast to the usual cereal regime of breakfast, so you can use that jam you like.
Take the few minutes to make tea, too - decide it's worth the effort.
Savor the vanilla rooibos flavor.
Finish morning primp routine and find jacket you love is back from cleaners.
Jump in car and drive two miles to work - in heavy traffic, but still easy on the gasoline budget.
Breathe.
Walk into office building, with the knowledge that your to-do list will flex and grow and shrink as the demands of the day require, but that you're doing your best.
Photo: My father-in-law's gardening talents at work
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Father's Day Gift Idea #1
A former coworker of mine has literally carved a niche out for himself in the customized marshmallow-toasting equipment market, with Marshmallow Chef Sticks.
His invention got the attention of the author of Gadget Nation, a book about wacky gadgets, and his Marshmallow Chef Sticks are now featured prominently in the tome.
No barbeque setup is complete without a pair!
Think of the look on your Dad's face when he sees these sticks - it's like giving him carte blanche to be a kid again, toasting marshmallows and having a grand-old time.
Not that my own father needs any excuse to act like a child, as he would be the first to point out. (Hee-hee!)
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
State of Affairs
Stuff that is on my desk, but probably should not be:
1. Expired Frida Kahlo exhibit ticket from March.
2. Spectacularly gorgeous wrapping paper from a gift a friend gave me last week.
3. Golf balls.
4. Trouser socks.
5. One book I've finished, two others I've abandoned.
6. Old sudokus.
7. Three new crochet hooks.
8. Stray photo from my First Holy Communion party, where I look not so much holy, but more as if I'm plotting revenge.
9. Dead PDA.
10. Phone number of cleaning service.
1. Expired Frida Kahlo exhibit ticket from March.
2. Spectacularly gorgeous wrapping paper from a gift a friend gave me last week.
3. Golf balls.
4. Trouser socks.
5. One book I've finished, two others I've abandoned.
6. Old sudokus.
7. Three new crochet hooks.
8. Stray photo from my First Holy Communion party, where I look not so much holy, but more as if I'm plotting revenge.
9. Dead PDA.
10. Phone number of cleaning service.
Sunday, May 18, 2008
41 Grattitudes
Taking a cue from Ariel at Electrolicious, I'm capping the celebration of my birthday week with this list of 41 things for which I am grateful this year.
1. My husband, who tries to understand me even when it's a lot of work
2. My parents, each for their own gifts
3. My sister, brother-in-law, and their kids, who are a riotous whirl of pandemonium - a party packaged in a single family form
4. My friends all of whom have broad shoulders to lean on and make me smile
5. The way the light comes into the downstairs windows in the morning
6. The lush canopy of trees that envelops our yard in the summer
7. Grilled sausage
8. Chocolate in various forms, be it truffle, solid and bite-worthy block or cake
9. Color and the way it evokes different feelings
10. Fuzzy lambswool-lined slippers
11. The feeling that comes from doing good
12. Bloggers who inspire me to write better or more regularly
13. Mentors
14. Splendid serendipity
15. Commonalities
16. Extemporaneous commentary
17. Ephemera, as both a word and a concept
18. Colorful graphics
19. Well-told stories
20. Flights of fancy
21. Stationery stores
22. Musings
23. Connections
24. Cartoons
25. Alliteration
26. Unmitigated joy
27. Laughter
28. Insight
29. Smooth-writing pens
30. Confidence
31. Backstory
32. Clean slates
33. Fresh laundry
34. Perfectly timed hugs
35. Reading before bed
36. Surprisingly good movies
37. Energized discussion
38. Meetings of minds
39. Course correction
40. Turquoise
41. Understanding
1. My husband, who tries to understand me even when it's a lot of work
2. My parents, each for their own gifts
3. My sister, brother-in-law, and their kids, who are a riotous whirl of pandemonium - a party packaged in a single family form
4. My friends all of whom have broad shoulders to lean on and make me smile
5. The way the light comes into the downstairs windows in the morning
6. The lush canopy of trees that envelops our yard in the summer
7. Grilled sausage
8. Chocolate in various forms, be it truffle, solid and bite-worthy block or cake
9. Color and the way it evokes different feelings
10. Fuzzy lambswool-lined slippers
11. The feeling that comes from doing good
12. Bloggers who inspire me to write better or more regularly
13. Mentors
14. Splendid serendipity
15. Commonalities
16. Extemporaneous commentary
17. Ephemera, as both a word and a concept
18. Colorful graphics
19. Well-told stories
20. Flights of fancy
21. Stationery stores
22. Musings
23. Connections
24. Cartoons
25. Alliteration
26. Unmitigated joy
27. Laughter
28. Insight
29. Smooth-writing pens
30. Confidence
31. Backstory
32. Clean slates
33. Fresh laundry
34. Perfectly timed hugs
35. Reading before bed
36. Surprisingly good movies
37. Energized discussion
38. Meetings of minds
39. Course correction
40. Turquoise
41. Understanding
Saturday, May 17, 2008
IM is Overrated
While I see how it can be beneficial in short-and-sweet doses - "Ready for lunch?" "Make it 200 pixels." "There's doughnuts in the break room." - for the most part, I think IM is overrated.
In the office, that is.
All the research points to the efficiency of multi-tasking being a myth. The worst thing for productivity. The bane of our lives in the 2000's.
And what does IM do? It facilitates constant interruption, the feeding of the never-satisfied, ravenously hungry, 21st-century, need-it-now, Google-dependent mind.
But it doesn't increase productivity, I'm convinced. At least for me.
Working on a complicated task, learning the ropes and putting names with faces during the first week at a new job can foster enough multi-tasking overload on their own.
Add in an onslaught of IM that just ratchets up the strain and breaks the concentration. Or at least, requires you start over at square one because the train of thought has been thoroughly derailed.
I speak from experience - but not at my new job.
At my new job, IM is verboten. Yes!
You'd think that would lead to email overload. And I'm sure at some times, it does.
But mostly, it leads to face-to-face conversations. Or a quick call to get an answer. Done and done.
And in the process, you get to know your colleagues just a little bit better.
Sure, there are times that I've missed it over the past few weeks. Technology can definitely help in many situations.
But largely? It's been a breath of fresh air not to be pecked-at by a constant stream of IMs from people I barely know, obscured by a digital veneer.
And so far? Really getting to know these people has been one of the most positive work experiences of my life.
In the office, that is.
All the research points to the efficiency of multi-tasking being a myth. The worst thing for productivity. The bane of our lives in the 2000's.
And what does IM do? It facilitates constant interruption, the feeding of the never-satisfied, ravenously hungry, 21st-century, need-it-now, Google-dependent mind.
But it doesn't increase productivity, I'm convinced. At least for me.
Working on a complicated task, learning the ropes and putting names with faces during the first week at a new job can foster enough multi-tasking overload on their own.
Add in an onslaught of IM that just ratchets up the strain and breaks the concentration. Or at least, requires you start over at square one because the train of thought has been thoroughly derailed.
I speak from experience - but not at my new job.
At my new job, IM is verboten. Yes!
You'd think that would lead to email overload. And I'm sure at some times, it does.
But mostly, it leads to face-to-face conversations. Or a quick call to get an answer. Done and done.
And in the process, you get to know your colleagues just a little bit better.
Sure, there are times that I've missed it over the past few weeks. Technology can definitely help in many situations.
But largely? It's been a breath of fresh air not to be pecked-at by a constant stream of IMs from people I barely know, obscured by a digital veneer.
And so far? Really getting to know these people has been one of the most positive work experiences of my life.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Pleasantly Surprised
You know when you are looking forward to something, and it's even better than you expected, and it takes you by surprise?
Well, my new job has been like that.
I've met dozens of people who are interested in making innovation happen - and who value my contribution to the conversation!
Smart, funny people who like cake.
And flowers! Really, really nice ones - on my first day.
There's a steep learning curve, for sure, but I'm climbing it steadily every day.
Already, halfway through week 2, I've made connections and breakthroughs and the wheels are turning with plenty of ideas for the future.
Do I like this job? Past experience makes me want to reserve judgment for a while... Once burned, twice shy and all that.
But the optimist in me says that all signs point to Yes.
My Chinese-food fortune the day I started?
Oh, yeah!
Well, my new job has been like that.
I've met dozens of people who are interested in making innovation happen - and who value my contribution to the conversation!
Smart, funny people who like cake.
And flowers! Really, really nice ones - on my first day.
There's a steep learning curve, for sure, but I'm climbing it steadily every day.
Already, halfway through week 2, I've made connections and breakthroughs and the wheels are turning with plenty of ideas for the future.
Do I like this job? Past experience makes me want to reserve judgment for a while... Once burned, twice shy and all that.
But the optimist in me says that all signs point to Yes.
My Chinese-food fortune the day I started?
"Take advantage of your great imagination. It will serve you well."
Oh, yeah!
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Creative Accounting
While I was growing up, stressing over one of life's little problems, my Mom was always there with a hug as I cried on her shoulder.
As a child, I think I was a mystery to her - and heck, I bet I'm just as enigmatic as an adult. But she always listens to me, if somewhat incredulously, over the things I worry about, live through, deal with.
So many times, after hearing me spill my guts, and offering advice, she'll ask incredulously, "Where did you come from?"
I mean, she knew the mechanics, of course. She was simply marveling at how different I was from her and my father.
Sure, I have her hands. And picked up many of her mannerisms along the way.
Among the things I'm forever grateful for is this: It's my Mom who taught me to read and write when I was two, setting the stage for my career.
A fellow lefty, she showed me the right way to hold my pencil so I was never vexed by the the left-side spirals in a notebook.
Over the years, I know I must have tested every last nerve in her body as she tried in vain to get me to mimic her Palmer-perfect penmanship earned refined during her years of Catholic school education. When done quickly, letting words pour out onto the page, a sheet full of my own writing resembles a ransom note more than lines written by the same person.
Little did she know, she'd created a monster.
As a toddler, I'd come downstairs - every morning for a month - toting a pretend schoolbag, declaring I was on my way to school.
So she threw up her hands and found me a preschool. Which was one of the most creative places I'd ever had the pleasure to spend time in my entire life.
That's another theme with my Mom, too - tapping into creativity. She used to sew a lot, obsessed with tactile textiles and beautiful patterns. These days, she quilts, making color schemes and poring over detailed designs at shows.
I get my obsession over materials from her. With her, it's fabrics for quilting. With me, it's beads and pieces of silver that catch the light.
As a child, I think I was a mystery to her - and heck, I bet I'm just as enigmatic as an adult. But she always listens to me, if somewhat incredulously, over the things I worry about, live through, deal with.
So many times, after hearing me spill my guts, and offering advice, she'll ask incredulously, "Where did you come from?"
I mean, she knew the mechanics, of course. She was simply marveling at how different I was from her and my father.
Sure, I have her hands. And picked up many of her mannerisms along the way.
Among the things I'm forever grateful for is this: It's my Mom who taught me to read and write when I was two, setting the stage for my career.
A fellow lefty, she showed me the right way to hold my pencil so I was never vexed by the the left-side spirals in a notebook.
Over the years, I know I must have tested every last nerve in her body as she tried in vain to get me to mimic her Palmer-perfect penmanship earned refined during her years of Catholic school education. When done quickly, letting words pour out onto the page, a sheet full of my own writing resembles a ransom note more than lines written by the same person.
Little did she know, she'd created a monster.
As a toddler, I'd come downstairs - every morning for a month - toting a pretend schoolbag, declaring I was on my way to school.
So she threw up her hands and found me a preschool. Which was one of the most creative places I'd ever had the pleasure to spend time in my entire life.
That's another theme with my Mom, too - tapping into creativity. She used to sew a lot, obsessed with tactile textiles and beautiful patterns. These days, she quilts, making color schemes and poring over detailed designs at shows.
I get my obsession over materials from her. With her, it's fabrics for quilting. With me, it's beads and pieces of silver that catch the light.
So thank you, Mom, for all the creative support to do my own thing. Even when it seems unthinkable.
Happy Mother's Day, Mom!
(And if you're a Mom, Happy Mother's Day to you, too!)
Friday, May 2, 2008
Working for a Living
While it can be a lot of little things that chip away at your satisfaction over time, I believe there's always a precise moment where you realize you're in the wrong job. At least that's been the case for me.
It could occur any time.
Making the connection that there's a disconnect between one's values and the organization's.
Feeling the daily struggle to do your best work, knowing that the tasks aren't aligned with your career goals - and knowing there's a better match somewhere else.
Hearing a statement that cuts to the core of the problem, articulating the ennui you've struggled so hard to put your finger on.
Whatever the situation, there's a moment of clarity encased in glass, "Yes! That's exactly why this isn't working!"
I've been through my share of light bulb moments - and job searches.
This last search was the most satisfying because after many years, I absolutely know myself. It's taken a while to believe the results of the inventory, but I know my talents, I know my interests, and all that was left was finding where my skills are put to best use.
People talk about being your best self, your most authentic. Knowing yourself is paramount. Too often we struggle along, trying to make things right, when the wrong is in the fit.
Trying something else on for size might involve a small shift, like changing roles or even departments. Or it could require a bigger commitment, like changing the organization you work for entirely.
But change is good. And like the cliches say, the only constant is change, these days.
I'm about to embark on a job change that on the face of it sounds like a perfect match. Room for growth, a chance to apply hard-won knowledge, and to take advantage of opportunities for learning.
At the same time, I'm bringing a new attitude to work, ensuring that I make time for the other things in life that are important to me, that give life balance.
That's definitely been challenging in the past. But that's what's good about the future - the future is unwritten.
It's an exciting time - scary, but good scary!
It could occur any time.
Making the connection that there's a disconnect between one's values and the organization's.
Feeling the daily struggle to do your best work, knowing that the tasks aren't aligned with your career goals - and knowing there's a better match somewhere else.
Hearing a statement that cuts to the core of the problem, articulating the ennui you've struggled so hard to put your finger on.
Whatever the situation, there's a moment of clarity encased in glass, "Yes! That's exactly why this isn't working!"
I've been through my share of light bulb moments - and job searches.
This last search was the most satisfying because after many years, I absolutely know myself. It's taken a while to believe the results of the inventory, but I know my talents, I know my interests, and all that was left was finding where my skills are put to best use.
People talk about being your best self, your most authentic. Knowing yourself is paramount. Too often we struggle along, trying to make things right, when the wrong is in the fit.
Trying something else on for size might involve a small shift, like changing roles or even departments. Or it could require a bigger commitment, like changing the organization you work for entirely.
But change is good. And like the cliches say, the only constant is change, these days.
I'm about to embark on a job change that on the face of it sounds like a perfect match. Room for growth, a chance to apply hard-won knowledge, and to take advantage of opportunities for learning.
At the same time, I'm bringing a new attitude to work, ensuring that I make time for the other things in life that are important to me, that give life balance.
That's definitely been challenging in the past. But that's what's good about the future - the future is unwritten.
It's an exciting time - scary, but good scary!
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