I’m terrified my mind will go stale and run out of ideas. It happens. I can’t control my brain from getting older or weaker. Ideas will stop one day.
I have a routine that I abide to every morning. I wake up, I put coffee to brew in my tiny little red percolator and I start to warm up my mind by doing little sketches, little doodles, nothing worth noting, sometimes I just try to draw straight lines on a paper. Sometimes I’ll draw little monsters and sometimes I’ll sketch out physical store flows from some previous research session. I do this for about 5-10 minutes.
When my coffee is ready, I pour out a cup. Depending on my mood, I might immerse myself in reading for an hour or I might spend it crafting something more involved, or maybe on mornings like today, writing seems to be a better medium.
Since my full-time job is on the digital side of design, it’s not uncommon to sit in front of the computer for 10+ hrs creating some interface, finding a solution to some breakpoint, wireframing some flow, communicating through some digital channel, all digital. Startup jobs is less about ideating and more about pushing.
And so this is why I fear losing out on ideas - because my professional life doesn’t push me to be creative, if anything, it’s anti-creativity. Therefore, every morning before dawn, I’ll pour out my cup of coffee and mingle around with my ideas. I smile as I make another idea come to life.
The best mornings are the unexpected ones.
Espressoing
A few more days
A final Hi meeting
The local neighborhood bar has a quiet time between six and nine. It is a place that specializes in coffee, beer and seasonal menus. There is just enough of each for a satisfying snack and effective buzz. After the time when the laptop lids close and before the social gatherings start -- there is a sort of twilight*. Often this time is a fugitive ground rife with creative inspiration and meditative work -- of the kind that results in personal reward.*twilight may refer to civil, nautical or astronomical variety depending on your social or terrestrial condition
A man positions his mouse on the edge of his browser window. He clicks, holds and drags the viewport first left then right. The content of a video game promo micro site responds and adapts to the available space. To the man, this is more delightful than the game itself.
A man laboriously moves his piano down three levels onto the subway platform. Classic vocals and strided chords -- he played so well I swore he was blind. Oblivious to the heat on that August stage, he was most in touch with his audience -- whom he elevated with his music.
A woman should do exactly as she pleases no matter what a man may think.
As the Dalai Lama once said, "It is a time when there is much in the window, but nothing in the room."
"No one understands me," she said. Her grandmother was silent for a minute. It seemed she was searching for an answer in the star speckled sky. "But no one understands anyone in this world, darling. We are all unique. It is what gives us a sense of wonder."