November 19th, 2006
London’s a strange beast. As we wandered through Westminster today (our first visit for weeks and weeks, in a failed attempt at birthday celebration), dodging the tourists, the street artists, the smells and the smokers it was painfully apparent that we no longer belong here.
I’ve lived in this city for almost nine years now and rather than growing to love it I see it and its people for what they are more clearly every day. I feel a bit like Rufus Sewell in ‘Dark City’, slowly figuring out that something isn’t quite right and wanting to scream about it from the rooftops.
I know people live rich and fulfilled lives here. Do they live in ignorant bliss? Do they just use and abuse the place for their own needs? Who knows? All I know is that escape is coming, and the six hours between 12pm and 6pm did nothing but ram home my belief that I will be leaving behind nothing that I will miss. Absolutely nothing.
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October 31st, 2006
I don’t remember going on holiday when I was a kid. I remember spending the summer holidays with relatives on Teeside and going for day-trips, or even a week camping in Swaledale, but never going away with parents and sibling to a holiday destination. Money was a major factor I guess.
As a result there are huge swathes of the UK that are untouched by my presence. Wales, Blackpool, Dorset, but no longer East Anglia. Under the guise of reducing our carbon footprint (and our debts) we are taking more holidays in good old Blighty. First stop North Norfolk. Autumn is the best time to be at the British seaside. Windswept, moody and free of crowds (even during half-term!)
Jess of course has been to all these places before as her parents are caravan-owners and have visited every hamlet, village and town in the country. I have catching up to do!
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October 10th, 2006
I’ve never been one for complaining about the onset of winter, with it’s coldness, darkness and bigelectricbillness. I actually prefer the cold, and I prefer the atmosphere of a winters day to a blazing hot summers one, but for some reason today the change in the season has really hit me and I feel a bit blue about the world.
My lingering headache probably has something to do with it. Jess tries to reason with me, but I have a foolish distrust for painkillers. I don’t really have an addictive personality or anything like that, it’s just that I never suffer pain to the extent where I feel they are necessary. So when the headache eased about half an hour after getting out of bed I decided to head out into the world without them. Now I am paying for my stubbornness.
Is it too warm for October 10th or is it me? I know I’m wearing a wooly hat (bed head cure) but it just feels like the ambient temperature doesn’t match the damp, gloomy vibe out of the window. Being in London doesn’t help. You just don’t get the same crispness and clarity that the change of the seasons brings to a more rural setting. Everything just gets dirty and fuggy. Don’t know if that’s a word. Don’t care.
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October 2nd, 2006
Only a greasy spoon cafe could combine spaghetti bolognese with chips. Only the customers of a greasy spoon cafe could find spaghetti bolognese not quite filling enough on its own. Enough carbs to sink a ship. Crazy.
I won a phone! All I had to do was list my top 5 influential designs of the 21st century on my blog, and then hope no-one else did. The plan worked and I will soon be the owner of an LG Chocolate phone. Not sure if it’s better or worse than my Motorola SLVR, but me and the SLVR aren’t that compatible so it stands a good chance.
I have a habit of winning competitions if I get around to entering them. Shame I’m too lazy to lift my competition entering finger most of the time.
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September 29th, 2006
A relic from the Deepend days, at Or Media I have managed to resurrect the ceremony of going to a purveyor of greasy badness on a Friday lunchtime.
Our weapon of choice is Al’s Cafe on Bermondsey Street. A greasy spoon in the classic mould, run by a hyper-active Mediterranean fella that shouts at you to sit down before you’re even one toe through the door. I went for the special breakfast. Special is one of those words that has taken on multiple meanings these days, and my breakfast could be described using two or three of them.
May have to opt for Pie and Mash next Friday.
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September 28th, 2006
I could eat bread all day long. I’d be a fat bastard, but it would be worth it. I’d sit in a big doughy chair being fed ciabatta and olives, farting away. Any type of bread will do, except maybe that really heavy Caribbean stuff.
Above is a new product that the Italian bakers next door to where I work are trying out. We have become their testers as we are the only people on the street that don’t complain about the smell of the bread baking(!) and the flour in the air.
My review: It’s light and soft with just the right amount of oil and just the right amount of tomatoes. It may be the closest thing to God-like I have come across in a baked item. 1 down, ten to go.
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September 26th, 2006
Maybe it’s global warming? Maybe it’s an obsession with consumerism? Either way, it’s good news for my pre-winter, fattening-up exercise as the Christmas food is in the shops.
I’d heard reports of things appearing, but I hadn’t seen it myself until I almost barrelled into a huge stack of mince pies in M&S at lunch. Couldn’t resist, obviously. Am now worried that with Christmas coming even earlier that the enjoyment is spread a lot thinner. I’m going to make a point this year of not over-doing Christmas.
Plenty of time for that when there are kids around.
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September 26th, 2006
“The London Design Festival is an annual event to celebrate and promote London and the UK’s design creativity. It brings together a diverse group of partners from different sectors - from the very biggest to the very smallest - and runs from 15-30 September.
This year, LG is proud to be one of those partners. To show our support we are staging a virtual event called Twenty-First Century Design Icons, an attempt to find the top five design icons from the last six years.”
My list:
1. The Apple iPod
Easy. Changed the face of music and gadgets across the board.
2. Toyota Prius Hybrid Automobile
Brave, but successful. Anything that persuades yummy mummys in California to ditch their SUVs has to be good.
3. Motorola RAZR Mobile Phone
Caught the imagination like no phone before it. Now everyone wants to be thin.
4. TomTom Go Standalone In-Car Navigation System
Took sat-nav to the masses.
5. Canon 300D/Digital Rebel Digital SLR Camera
The first affordable professional quality digital camera. Responsible for a resurgence in photography as a hobby.
Discuss.
Designers whose list I would like to see:
Jay Prynne, senior designer at Esterson Associates, who always disagrees with me on things like this.
Technorati tag: lgdesignicons
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Categories: Technology, Design |
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September 20th, 2006
I’m not afraid of a lot of things. Celery. Heights. That’s about it. But more than either of them I’m afraid of phones. More precisely I hate phone conversations.
Maybe it’s the inability to see the other person’s gestures and facial expressions, but I find it incredibly uncomfortable to talk to somebody on the phone. I stumble over my words, I start sweating and eventually my throat goes dry and I have to get rid of the other person as quickly as possible.
It’s not just strangers, I’m the same with my wife, my mother, anybody. I rely on email and text messaging for 90% of my contact with the outside world. Email is great. Not only can you take time to think about what it is you want to say, but you have a paper trail that is a permanent record of the conversation. You can send images, plans and embellish descriptions. I find I can be myself in written conversation and not the bumbling mess people come across if they call me.
Not everyone agrees with this. The worst culprits are the people who reply to an email with a phone call. Why do people do this?! Surely it’s much easier to answer my question or respond by just clicking reply and typing what you want to say? If I wanted a phone conversation I would have called you!! Yes, you can ask and answer lots of questions very quickly over the phone, but is it really worth the hatred I now feel towards you for ruining my day by making me speak to your disembodied voice? Surely not.
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September 13th, 2006
It’s been coming for a long while, but today it finally hit me. I hate what I do for a living. I know as jobs go sitting at a computer drawing pictures sounds like an easy life, but behind the creative façade I am essentially a lacky. Yes, I get to flex my creative muscles and design beautiful things that people pay for, but the journey to that finished thing is never as easy as it should be
Clients. They are the problem. As professions go, graphic design has to be one of the least respected.
People don’t go to their doctor to be cured and end up telling them they know better and that they don’t have cancer, they actually have a bit of a cold and make them prescribe some Lemsip Max.
People don’t take their car to Kwik Fit and proceed to tell the mechanic exactly what is wrong and how to fix it.
So why do my clients think they know as much or more than I do about something I spent four years studying and ten years practising? It’s a constant uphill struggle to gain any small bit of satisfaction from a project, or to have just one week where a client doesn’t get shirty about the fact that ink takes time to dry and thereby ruin your day.
Don’t get me wrong. This particular employer I am with now is great when put up against some of the other places I have worked, but the job itself is starting to affect my ability to enjoy my life and the time is coming when I need to do something about it.
My ‘other’ profession gives me the freedom to produce the kind of work I want to produce. The clients send me emails telling me how fantastic my work is. I don’t have to sit in a room filled with the ringing of phones for five days a week. Job satisfaction. And I can earn the same amount of mortgage repayment, if not more!
I am about to snap. Watch this space.
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