The eyes of a traveler We’ve all heard that travel broadens the mind. But beneath this cliché lies a deep truth. Things stand out because they’re different, so we notice every detail, from street signs to mailboxes to two you pay at a restaurant. We learn a lot when we travel, not because we are any smarter on the road but because we pay such close attention. On a trip, we become our own version of Sherlock Holmes, intensely observing the environment around us. We are continuously trying to figure out a world that is foreign and new. Too often, we go through our day-to-day life on cruise control, oblivious to huge swaths of our surroundings. To notice friction points – and therefore opportunities to do things better – it helps to see the world with fresh eyes. When you meet creative people with lots of ideas constantly bubbling to the surface, you often come away feeling that they are operating on a different frequency. And they are, most of the time. They have all their receptors on — and frequently turned up to eleven. But the fact is, we are all capable of this mode. Try to engage a beginner’s mind. For kids, everything is novel, so they ask lots of questions, and look at the world wide-eyed, soaking it all in. Everywhere they turn, they tend to think, Isn’t that interesting? rather than, I already know that. By adopting the eyes of a traveler and a beginner’s mindset, you will notice a lot of details that you might normally have overlook. You put aside assumptions and are fully immersed in the world around you. In this receptive mode, you’re ready to start actively searching out inspiration. Richard Saul Wurman, Understanding Understanding Like designing things for the first time travelcliché
The language itself has been weaponized It’s quite difficult, to fight back against the seeming wisdom of axiomatic “truths,” when the language itself has been weaponized through the power of pattern. Through rhythm, rhyme, alliteration, and consonance. The last time I was in England was at the invitation of Nomensa, to give a talk at a conference wherein I encouraged the audience to discard an axiom that I feel has done users of the English language more harm than good through endless and glib repetitions. Like “Curiosity Killed The Cat,” “You Are Not Your User” sounds so good that we keep on saying it, without appreciating what we’re reifying through repetition. The pleasure of repetition, the pleasure of pattern matching, the pleasingness of Kuh Kuh Kuh consonants on the one hand, and of the round vowelly Yuh Yuh Yuh on the other make these things we say seem true because they sound and feel so good to say. Dan Klyn, Sermon for WIAD Bristol 2021 understandinggroup.com repetitiontruthlanguagecliché
The debris of someone else's thinking A cliché isn't just a familiar, overused saying. It's the debris of someone else's thinking. Verlyn Klinkenborg, Several Short Sentences About Writing cliché
The way an oyster does A Fragment by Kay Ryan www.csmonitor.com Her poems, [Kay Ryan] says, don't begin with a simple image or sound, but instead start "the way an oyster does, with an aggravation." An old saw may nudge her repeatedly, such as "It's always darkest before the dawn" or "Why did the chicken cross the road?" "I think, 'What about those chickens?' " she says, "and I start an investigation of what that means. Poets rehabilitate clichés." poetrymeaningcliché
Craft and Material in Digital Design An Article A little bit more about the stoneIt is how we come to understand our medium craftmaterialsoftware
A little bit more about the stone In the documentary Rivers and Tides, artist Andy Goldsworthy repeatedly struggles to stack stones into a sculptural cairn. Over and over the stones fall. Each time, Andy’s sculpture stands a little taller before the moment of failure. At a penultimate moment in the episode, the ever-patient Goldsworthy begins to look exasperated. He’s just staring at the rocks scattered on the ground, studying them intently. A curious passerby has watched him fail a few times, and Andy tells the man, “Every time, I learn a little bit more about the stone. I’m learning how it works.”
It is how we come to understand our medium There is such a unique quality to experiential learning, through direct experience with a material. It cannot be substituted through lectures or books. It must be felt. It must be earned through time well spent, through making and failing and re-making. It is how we come to understand our medium. If you’re a digital designer who doesn’t understand basic principles of computer science, or has never written a bit of code, or has never built a website, what are you doing? What can you say about the material you shape? The idea that designers in the information age shouldn’t waste their time with this skill baffles me. It is woefully misguided advice. A digital designer who has not learned the nature of their medium is a designer unprepared to argue for their vision. This is a designer who is unable to push back against the criticism of skeptical engineers. This is a designer who risks offering opinions instead of solutions. If you are crafting experiences in the digital space, you should know what’s required to implement your ideas. You should try implementing it yourself, (if only to build empathy with your developers!)