The Curiosity Book

I love being a designer, especially in publications. In addition to working with all the elements of design like fonts and colors, one of my favorite parts of work is learning on a continuous basis from my clients just by reading their copy before laying it out. I love learning about the issues that inhabit and challenge their worlds.

A long time ago I started a habit of jotting down any questions that occurred when reading my clients' content. Then whenever I had time I'd Google around, jot down book titles, and talk to people to try and get answers to those questions. For years I've kept a "curiosity book," perhaps what the British would call a "commonplace book," a repository of quotes, facts and figures, and answers to questions. For example, some of the questions in mine:

What happened to the von Stauffenberg children?

What is humanism?

Which countries were part of Arab Spring?

What forces cultural change?

Process of Rwandan reconciliations?

What I've learned is this:

•  Sometimes we don't fully understand what we know. We only think we know it, but often what we really have is a conventional "derivative" of the topic, and that can be shallow or homogenized. (The Valkyrie plot failed and all the conspirators were executed.... Yes, but they had families, loved ones. What happened to them?) 

•  Humans beings are fascinating! Human effort is layered and textured, rich with hidden backstories about petty rivalries, unspoken love, and thwarted intentions. For good or evil, these are the motives that drive effort. Despite our many wars and conflicts, the bigger part of our nature is to create and discover. To do better than before.

•  Creativity is an interdisciplinary act, so it helps to know a bit about everything. The world of work does not exist apart from the world at large. Our workplaces do not exist in a vacuum, estranged from life itself. Maintaining a habit of curiosity keeps life amazing.

•  Some questions are unanswerable. They should either be tackled from multiple viewpoints, or the answers are still works in progress. Oddly, there's a sense of adventure and safety in knowing some of these questions will never be answered in my lifetime.

Creativity and emotional fraudulence

When I was a student at Carnegie Mellon University, one of my favorite professors, my drawing teacher Bill Haney, used a phrase that I still refer to today: he encouraged us to keep our visual vocabularies replenished. In present socio-cultural terms, it probably means "inner resources" — having emotional, spiritual and intellectual reserves to tap into that not only define our lives, but help us understand our experiences. (Nearly 40 years later, I was honored by Bill Haney's invitation to be in network on Linked In).

Creativity belongs to all of us. Everyone has the creativity "muscle," and it's usually got to be spiritually, emotionally, and intellectually nourished. How that's done is as individual as you are (travel, reading, music, visiting museums, hanging out with loved ones).

But I will also tell you the one feature that separates strong creatives from weak ones, and that is the ability — actually, the will — to live in an authentic, truth-seeking way. Originality, creativity, and critical thinking are closely tied.

Without those, design becomes merely ornamental; writing reads like pomposity; and sales pitches lack a sense of caring and commitment. And trust me: your audience is smart enough to know the difference. They may not voice it, but it can be felt at a gut level.

Whether you write plays or cast TV commercials or plan sales strategies, you can't hit that chord of truth unless you know how to be truthful in your own life. That chord of truth is the magical thing that makes others laugh out loud, wet in the eyes, or agree to buy services from you — because somehow, without using neon signs to say "I AM REAL," you've just shown them something authentic in raw, insightful, or very funny terms. It signals that you get it. You're not afraid to commit. You will deliver.

And it's really true: the unexamined life is not worth living, because if you're constantly sweeping things under the emotional rug, over time you're living without a lot of authenticity. Shallow relationships become easier than real ones. Forget about having crucial conversations; you stop bothering to even ask the right questions. You watch a lot of TV and come to believe celebrity highlight reels are the best life a person can have — so you watch more TV. Your relationships become more like possessions, and your possessions start to feel like achievements.

There are emotionally fraudulent people in the world. It's not that they're bad people, only that their inner reserves are skimpy, sterile, or shallow. They don't bother to replenish them, because to do so means first looking at their lives for what's missing. That can be a harsh reality to face.

Instead they prefer to lead lives that are morally convenient and/or materially comfortable. They borrow this 'n' that belief from popular TV shows or social media posts, and present such convictions as their own, to render themselves engaging and palatable. Closer to the truth, they'd rather sit home and admire their golf clubs or new rims than spend a couple hours listening to their kids' opinions. They have an uneasy relationship with the truth so they duck it at every turn.

And yes, by necessity, we all wear masks. Sometimes it's just good manners to do so, but it's no way to live. A contrived human being cannot exercise creativity any more than a copy of a copy can be called original. If you can't be honest with yourself, why on earth would anyone else trust you?

Ever chat with someone who talks like this?

(You should be able to watch the whole thing on YouTube, no problems).

This was such a stupid mistake

Please do not watch this video if you're easily offended by profanity.

So much of what one finds online is bogus or apocryphal, but let's just assume this one's absolutely 100% true: this U. S. soldier stationed in Iraq called HP tech support for help with his HP printer and was told he'd have to pay for the help.

He got rather annoyed. Understandably.

Total waste. What irks me about shabby customer service is that it's a wasted opportunity to create good will for both your products and your brand. And nothing is worse than nickel-and-diming your customers especially when they're appealing to you for help.

Now imagine what would've happened if HP tech support had actually been helpful — not only enthused to be helpful, but thanked this soldier for his loyalty as a customer, and gotten an address where he could receive packages. And then let's imagine that HP tech support pooled their resources — versus protecting that sacred cow, their bottom line — and sent an HP printer box filled with extra ink cartridges and cookies and movie DVDs and magazines for our boys overseas. I don't know: tell me if this is just too "out there"....

How much are we talking about here? An act of generosity that'd cost less than $300? What about enclosing a banner that also says, "HP thanks you for your service" that the troops can hang up in the mess hall? How much of a dent would that have put in HP's bottom line? Maybe $500? Heck, a few months ago HP's CEO got a raise from $1 million to $1.5 million. Could Meg Whitman be prevailed upon to spring for a boxload of cookies, magazines, and DVDs? Think how many loyal HP customers might've come out of it, especially if the troops then made a video thanking them for it. Among other things, how great to have a product that can withstand "combat duty" in Iraq!

OK, so HP didn't do any of that. (I can just see some dreary middle management guy droning, "Well, now, if we did that for him, we'd have customers expecting us to do it for everyone." Really? What a risk! How much of a pair do you need to have, to offer creature comforts to our soldiers in Iraq, especially knowing the disarray in the current VA, and the type of "support" these boys will be coming home to?) ...

Instead HP alienated a customer who's now made a video repudiating their product, their tech support, and their brand. No surprise, the video's been making the rounds on social media.

But if I worked for one of HP's competitors, I'd be sending this guy a new printer, plus baked goods. You better believe it. If HP can't value their customers, it's open season for someone who will.

The Persistent Idealist

In days to come, countless Atlantans and Georgians will share their memories of Harry West (1941-2014). These are mine.

When you put an idealist in with a bunch of prosaic or formulaic thinkers, it's the idealist who inevitably takes a beating. Why? Because his vision is more imaginative, reaches for more, and involves a deeper investment of hope.

Harry West passed away yesterday morning (7/14/14). Back in the 90s, he'd worked so hard on an Atlanta metro region initiative called Vision 2020 that now, so near its threshold, my first reaction was to wish he could be around to see the year 2020 roll up.

"Don't let go of what you believe in"

He had a great deal of persistence — I'm talking superhuman levels. By his early 30s, he'd reached the top of his profession: his job as director of the Atlanta Regional Commission often looked to me about as much fun as cat-herding: a great many people were committed and enthused, eager to help the Region, but some of the cats were also lazy, complacent or ineffectual; and there were a few whom my daughter's generation would describe as outright "haters" — corrupt, self-serving people who'd rather put energy into smashing down someone else's efforts rather than lead, follow, or get out of the way. Harry seemed to bear it all with typical resilience, once telling me, "Do your thing while others do theirs, but don't let go of what you believe in."

In the years I served on a couple of his committees, I watched some of these regional movers and shakers pluck off low-hanging fruit, after which they'd spend a great deal of time slapping each other's backs. To sustain a vision of enormous scope and depth during such bouts of self-congratulation had to have felt absurd or crazymaking, but ... he must've fixed his gaze on that distant prize, those faraway shores. Once when I was burning at the edges over petty baloney from a detractor, he said, "I know you're fed up, but just remember, it takes everyone to make the world go 'round." I've never forgotten that one because it's been the hardest to learn.

Friends and solutions — and listening

More than anyone else I've ever met, Harry had thousands of friends, not just in Atlanta but all over the country — governors, city mayors, politicians, local celebs, journalists, nonprofit directors, foundation presidents, corporate leaders, and grassroots activists and volunteers. The latter group alone was incredibly diverse. Inevitably, no matter where he was, someone would walk up and introduce themselves, remind him of where and how they'd met, and each of them were from very different walks of life and world views.

He never stood on pomp or circumstance (I once left a meeting with him and as I was heading out, then-mayor Bill Campbell was strolling in)....If you had an idea, a vision for aiding the greater good, he would find ways to support your efforts. When I met him I was in my 30s, fresh out of a divorce with a small child, and all I knew was that if child care was a formidable concern for me in the English-speaking middle class, then refugee/immigrant parents in Atlanta's DeKalb county urgently needed safe, affordable child care solutions, just to survive. He saw a civic imperative in this, which meant a great deal to me.

He was also a very good listener. Deep in conversation, he'd lower his head, his chin would sink into his chest, and you might be wondering if he'd dozed off — until he responded with something that not only perfectly encapsulated everything I'd said but asked an astute question to help advance the ideas behind it. "As you get to know me," he said once, "you'll find I like to listen better than to talk." There's wisdom in that.

Plenty of people will step up to tell you why a thing can't be done, but he was one of those who looked for solutions in everything. As a younger man, he must've realized that durable civic improvements are not made in great glorious strides, but in inconspicuous, painstaking increments, each requiring tremendous patience. And perseverance.

Because I did not move in his world, he knew my humor tended to dry and irreverent when observing it, and we shared a few "inside" jokes. Many times someone would say or do something in a meeting that would set me off, and I'd wind up biting my lip to keep from laughing out loud. Then I'd glance over at Harry, sitting in one of the staff chairs of the conference room, and find that he was already anticipating my glance, a broad grin splitting across his face, and when I crossed my eyes or made a face in exasperation, his shoulders would begin shaking with silent laughter.

Thinking beyond

He enjoyed gardening and reading. Given the amount of work-related reading he had to do, he said the last 30 minutes of his day were devoted to something he wanted to read for personal pleasure. When I finished writing my first book, I told him, "The impossible thing has been done!" and he was very kind: "You have finished a book!" he repeated.

Finally, this: as a kid growing up in Calhoun, GA, he said he liked listening to the town's leaders talking about "what was going on." The fire chief, police chief, mayor, and bank president, standing near the firehouse, talking things over: What had caused that pot-hole on a nearby street, and how should it be fixed? ... How would weather affect nearby farm crops? ... Who was mad at his neighbor, and why? ... I'm guessing he realized the dark and humorous fullness of life through listening in on those conversations.

I loved the generosity of his ideas, and feel sad there had not been an opportunity to say a proper farewell. Knowing him taught me the value of persistence — more than that, I tend to value idealists far more, especially among the young. Their visions should not be trampled. The world is filled with people who worship practicality, usually as an excuse to do nothing. They look no further than the easy, low-hanging fruit, but people like Harry think about the world beyond the orchard. If it takes everyone to make the world go 'round, more than ever we need idealists and visionaries who can tell us that our most fantastic dreams are entirely possible.

Good bye, Harry. I will miss you.

Toybox Crucible

Conventional wisdom: "Don't politicize your blog" — but you know what? Our workplaces do not exist in a vacuum. And I am sick of personality-disordered pundits and self-ordained "moral compasses" enriching themselves by preaching hate, fear, and intolerance. So this post is not about design or marketing, soft skills or leadership, not about print sales or optimizing customer service. This is about being American. This is about being human.

We take empathic selfies holding up little signs that say #bringbackourgirls but there are xenophobic "patriots" at the border with bigger signs declaring "return to sender" — and threatening to shoot children — as if we Americans have had nothing to do with the turmoil of Central America. Boy, have they got it wrong.

The murderous Mara Salvatrucha (MS-13 or MXIII) is to Central America what the Boko Haram is to Nigeria, and where did MS-13 get its start but in the streets of Los Angeles, a product of failed U. S. drug enforcement policies and practices in the 1980s. In deporting those LA gang members back to El Salvador, we merely transplanted the problem. In the 1950s the CIA-assisted overthrow of Guatemala's legally elected Jacob Arbenz opened up decades of dictatorships that led to the genocide of over 100,000 Guatemalans. In our self-certainties, puffed up on American exceptionalism, we have contributed to the violent forces in these nations, and we are now paying that price. For example, earlier this year Atlanta Safe Streets enforcement caught up four rampaging MS-13 thugs and sentenced them to life for terrorizing Atlanta neighborhoods — so yes, our "borders" have long been compromised by more than hungry frightened children. MS-13 alone has over 10,000 "foot soldiers," a stockpile of serious weaponry, and operate within at least three dozen U.S. states. They're now international.

Thousands of Central American children will no doubt be sent back, much to the elation of our self-ordained "border guards," but they'll be returning to lives of chaos and constant danger, either as collateral damage of organized crime activity, or recruited into one of the local gangs.

The homicide of children is a good indicator of violence levels in any country. Honduras has an extremely high murder rate: the city of San Pedro Sula may be "murder capital" of the world, averaging three murders per day. From 1998-2010, over 6,000 children/youth under the age of 23 have been murdered in Honduras as the result of organized crime activity, 61% of those under the age of 18. MS-13 starts recruiting at age 10, graduating members from lookouts and mules to drug dealers and hit men. Loyalty has to be continuously proven and disobeying orders or "turning rat" is punishable by death. In 2012 El Salvador, nearly 1,200 women and girls were the victims of sexual assault, a quarter of them having witnessed the assault of another woman in their home. In 2011 Guatemala, 437 kids were murdered, and 834,000 kids live and work in unsafe or inadequate conditions. (World Vision reporting)

These stats don't include the unquantifiable cost of millions of children living too precariously to benefit from a complete education. If we don't address it within our time, in a transnational collaboration with the "sending countries," we'll be facing generations more of this. We can make a strong start by confronting and prosecuting the "coyote" organizations that exploit and profit from these kids.

These Central American kids have not come here to freeload off our wealth and good will. They just want to survive. This problem has been gaining critical mass for years, we have been part of its genesis, and we are now faced with a moral crucible. This transcends party politics re illegal immigration. As exhausted as our entitlement systems are purported to be, we Americans still do not live in a country where calling for help entails yet more threat of danger from corrupt and violent first responders.

We cannot be a nation that embraces both #bringbackourgirls and "return to sender"; it's a hypocrisy, given that for over 200 years we've hung out a shingle that says we're a safe harbor for those fleeing violence and persecution. No more Voyage of the Damned stories conveniently tucked away as footnotes in our history books: we need to land on the right side of history with this one.

The black-and-white photo shows two German-Jewish children on the ill-fated S. S. St. Louis, whose journey to Miami and Cuba was dubbed "Voyage of the Damned." Although close enough to see the lights of Miami, the St. Louis was denied — gripped as they were by anti-Semitism and xenophobia, both Cuba and the U. S. refused to help the refugees of Nazi Germany. The ship was returned across the Atlantic. Although a handful of European nations took in some of the passengers, hundreds more perished in the Holocaust.

The Life of a Creative, Part 4 (Why persistence counts)

Author and former literary agent John Hodgman is talking purely about the life of a writer, but I like what he says about brilliance and persistence.

The unconscious life is not worth living. A creative has to understand what he knows in a truth-seeking way, and be willing to maintain a daily practice — to pitch ideas and samples, to be present enough to perform, to simply persevere.

Amateurs built the ark; professionals, the Titanic. Speaking only for myself, assuming I've got a couple good decades left, I don't want to be dying and thinking, "Thirty years ago...I could've tried that." Everyone starts out as a novice, a rookie. The world is filled with talented amateurs who give up too soon.

Persistence, not talent, will carry you further. I had a professor who said, "Talent is just indication of potential. What do you have after that?"

Most people love the perceivable assumptions of "the creative life" — the supposed irresponsibility and outspokenness — but I'm here to tell you, being a creative is one of the most responsible, rigorous things you can be. Most people don't want to do the work, because it doesn't fall into conventional work hours, it's not always "billable," and it's subject to criticism from everyone and his brother. Life is filled with a thousand necessary tasks and distractions, and nobody is blamed for submitting to them (especially where child-rearing is concerned). Harder to understand why anyone would acquiesce to a life of constant effort and repeated rejections. (I'm thinking of my friends who are painters and poets and jazz musicians.)

So...write your book or magnum opus. Go back to school for a poetry class and fill notebooks with your own sonnets. Take up sculpture or quilting or photography, and see the world in new dimensions. Relearn something you once loved and let slip away.... It may take years to master, but the time will pass anyway. Seek out constructive criticism, and make a friend of rejection. Rejection is a form of discomfort, and discomfort is temporary. Any pain you feel lasts 90 seconds, and then it dissolves into a new insight, a new lesson. There are more reasons to persist than to quit, and it will be an adventure. Good luck to you.

#noregrets #dietrying

The Life of a Creative, Part 3 (Ultimate Freedom)

In 1964, when Rita Schwerner and Andy Goodman's parents went to see LBJ after their loved ones went missing in Mississippi, the President knew he was in a for a tough time, and he was right. Rita was confrontational: "This is not a social call, Mr. President. You need to help find my husband." But despite having few answers, LBJ at least acknowledged their pain and met them where they were....

Dozens of parents lost their first-graders in one of the worst acts of violence this country has seen since the 1927 school bombing in Bath, MI, and most of our elected politicos treat them as if they're kooks and loose cannons, unworthy of a meeting. (Bereaved Isla Vista dad Richard Martinez has been called a "media whore"). Today on talk radio an old geezer angrily referred to the Sandy Hook parents as "snakes" for trying to "weaken gun rights." 

But what do you expect these parents to do? Losing a child is brutal enough. Losing a child to a preventable act of violence is bound to turn a parent into an activist. You don't take it lying down; you make it your life's mission to prevent other similar losses. And where is the compassion that Americans are so famous for? Sandy Hook parents will feel a sharp, fresh grief every day of their lives. In defending gun rights, we've taken to denigrating these bereaved parents. So is it all about The Gun now?

A gun is not this country's ultimate symbol of freedom — if it is, then we're in a very sorry condition. Even the most deprived concentration camp inmates knew, the one thing that can't ever be taken from you is your ability to think, to choose your thoughts and reactions. The one thing that can't be taken from us is freedom of thought, the ability to attain an education, shape opinion and policy, participate in public discourse, to form ideas apart from the herd. Or to disagree — and still enact compassion. 

(Photo above: On April 11, 1968, President Lyndon Johnson signed a bill that made it a crime to interfere with civil rights workers and to cross state lines to incite a riot.)

The Life of a Creative, Part 2 (What do creatives need?)

Most people make a common mistake: they assume creativity is a well belonging to a chosen few. (Plagiarists and copycats shrug it off — what's the harm in borrowing a bucket of water from your well? Will it be missed? You still have plenty left).

Creativity is not a well but a muscle: the more you use it, the stronger it gets. (By that thinking, people who constantly "borrow" wind up with flaccid creative muscles).

To keep those muscles going strong, creatives need an environment filled with the following:

Good listeners. Because creativity is the world of ideas, creatives need alert, open-minded listeners who understand conceptual thinking and will suspend judgment even if they don't fully understand creative processes. These are folks who don't just get off on the special effects; they also appreciate a great backstory. Creatives like to brainstorm, play with words and imagery, follow through on "what if?" imaginings... It's fun to bounce ideas off one another. There's nothing more flattening than to discuss the curiosities that drive you to create, only to have that other person tune out, or interject, "You know what? You should do portraits of CEOs. Bet each one would fetch you a good price," or "Why do you always deal in such dark subjects? Why not bright, peppy, colorful things? Those make me happy!"

Opportunities for transformative, not just transactional work. Of writing, Lawrence Kasdan said, "Being a writer is like having homework for the rest of your life." Writers try to maintain a daily writing practice, often keeping more than a couple book ideas going, and if they're not hammering out the first draft to one, they're making research notes on another, or scouring newspapers for fresh story ideas. That said, creatives maintain a daily practice of thinking beyond.

Sure, there are creative jobs where you can turn off the computer and never think about it until 9AM the next day, but most creative challenges entail continuous thinking and planning. That stream of experimental thought optimizes the birth of good ideas. What appears to be down time (brooding, puttering, doodling, daydreaming to music) is in fact a mind feverishly at work, weighing options, testing theories, scanning an idea from a variety of angles, asking, "What if...?" The transformation begins in the process that yields the idea. Remember, creativity is first and foremost a problem-solving skill.

A conscious life, based on authenticity of risk and effort. To be creative is to analyze, (re) interpret, depict, magnify, and exalt reality — whatever reality means to the individual — to comfort the distressed, and to startle the complacent. Creativity yields not only a new way of looking at things, but also a call to action. Individuals who are more committed to convention, to garnering widespread acceptance, will have a harder time getting past formulaic, derivative, "first shelf" ideas. Literally, they have nothing new to say.

Creatives don't just inhabit the visual and performing arts: they work in finance, STEM industries, blue collar sectors — all the places where one might assume a deficit of  creativity. Fact is, creativity belongs to everyone, resides in everyone, so is there anything on this list that wouldn't be important to each and every one of us?

Next post: The only thing you need can't be taught.