I found this box as promotional packaging for some Bentley’s teabags. I’m not sure if it’s a craft traditional to some part of the world, but I can only imagine it was one of several hundred thousand assembled in some sweatshop somewhere. It’s 100% bamboo planking, not sure what the flat strips are made of; I’m also not sure if or how the bamboo is treated.

Looking at this, just as with basket weaving or natural sackcloth, I wonder if there’s a lesson here about the future of commercial product packaging. While the components are obviously biodegradable, I wonder if the work involved in constructing this box is excessive for something that should be thrown away; likewise, what would be an individual’s limit if forced to reuse these boxes instead of discarding them?

When looking at alternatives to plastics and treated cardboard, it’s tempting to want to return to traditional handicrafts. The natural aesthetic clearly advertises the eco-ethics the product manufacturer wishes to espouse. But given the carbon cost of shipping these boxes from overseas, the unknown working conditions under which it was constructed, and its dubious reuse (beyond an initial, token quantity), just how socio-eco-ethical is this compared to a cardboard box?

It sure is a purdy box, though.

As some of you know, I’m in the middle of a move back to Los Angeles. With the entirety of my life either packed up, in storage, readily transportable, rented out, on wheels, online, wireless, discarded, shredded, recycled, or given away, I find myself enjoying a kind of freedom I haven’t known in years. Once I realized this, I draughted a list of projects I’d been putting off; a list I was all abuzz to dive into; a list that, when complete, would pave the way toward a bright and prosperous future; a list I am, to date, largely ignoring.

My problem is this: nearly every item on my list requires inordinate amounts of creativity from me. While I enjoy being creative–nay, require creativity as I once required sleep before I discovered white coffee–I’ve never been good at being creative on a schedule. I’d like to think I alone suffer from this, but I know that isn’t true. That’s why I felt the clammy fondle of camaraderie when I was introduced to Getting Things Done.

The two most important lessons I’ve learned from GTD are: 1) group like tasks that can be accomplished together, and 2) dump your brain into a trusted system. A lot of GTD seems like common sense, and I’m sure a lot of it would work if you could just commit yourself to it. But there are some issues that GTD just can’t seem to help me with.

See, what David Allen and the other productivity cognoscenti have never sufficiently answered to my liking is how to get creative things done in a timely manner. I appreciate the idea that I should record everything (write it, sketch it, type it, whatever) as I work out an idea, but when does the recording end and the opening-of-celebratory-beers-marking-the completion-of-a-project begin? For that matter, how can I group like tasks when I’m working on: a new kind of game, a short film, a website, a book, and a brand for a lifestyle company?

I don’t mean to complain–except that I am complaining, and I find I’m enjoying it–but GTD seems better suited to… real estate agents, salesmen, the odd engineer every now and again. But when you’re faced with a task list of multiple blank slates, staring back at you, taunting you…

Maybe my problem isn’t a productivity one. Maybe it’s the age old problem that all creatives have, struggling with their muse. Maybe GTD is just a way to clear your schedule and make time to stare down that blank piece of paper.

Still, if GTD can’t include creativity as one of its “things”, I feel a little let down.

I’ve returned from my little Canadian adventure, and while there are many tales to tell, I shall begin with the story of the Great Smarties Hunt.

Smarties are, for those who don’t know, the “un-M&M”; a hard-shelled chocolate candy made by Nestlé that is not available in the United States. They are well-loved in my family, travelers that we are, and the expectation is that whenever we travel to Europe or a Commonwealth nation, we had better come back bearing Smarties.

So when I was in Vancouver this past weekend, I needed to find time to raid the local stores and stock up on some giftable candy. This proved more difficult than first expected. Smarties were traditionally packaged in a round cardboard tube. While I understand that, around the world, the round packaging has gone the way of the dinosaurs (or evolution in Kentucky schools), to me, Smarties means round tubes. So when I could only find Smarties in rectangular boxes or massive plastic bags, I became forlorn.

Our Canadian hosts, trying to help, were secretly laughing at me, I know. “Silly Americans… tubes!? We don’t keep our Smarties in tubes! Next you’ll be asking us if we drink lots of beer and say ‘eh’.”

I did eventually meet with success. Apparently, all the round tubes in Canada roll south, because the only place I was able to find my beloved Smarties tubes were at the duty-free store on the border. So, armed with Smarties, I have returned home to the delight of my kin.

So when I next come up, Vancouver, I’m bring a round tube with me. We can enjoy it with a six-pack, eh?

Note: There is a candy in the U.S. called Smarties, a compressed fruity chalk that makes its appearance every Halloween. The two are not to be confused.

A select group of close friends and I have been tossing around the idea of a “cul-de-sac of evil”, wherein we would all have houses located near one another (perhaps monopolizing an entire cul-de-sac, which we might fence off), and more or less operate as a nation unto ourselves. It’s a wonderful dream. I believe the old word for it was “commune”.
keep reading…

I’m still hacking away at the site, but I’m taking off to Canadia over the weekend to enjoy my birthday. Apparently we’re going to check out a laser glacier show… glacier floyd? I dunno.

EastVan and I are destined to become fast friends, I’m sure.

Posted the portfolio templates today, and they appear to be working fine. I’m still having trouble with pagination on category-specific templates, though, and hope to have that working sometime in the near future. It was a nice surprise to see Lightview Plus automatically make a slideshow out of multiple image links in the same post; I was wondering how I was going to do that.

Meanwhile, feel free to sit back and watch the show as I gradually track down and upload the scattered ephemera, like footprints in a technicolor meadow, marking my passage from one visual idea to another. Careful, I think that metaphor is ready to collapse.

And in case you can’t find it, here’s the portfolio page.

I’m finishing up the portfolio templates tomorrow, then I can begin the big graphic reëntry.

I was going to predate the entries in this category according to when the items were created. Hopefully it will aid in sorting.

I’m pulling the site together while it’s live. So mind some errors while it all comes together.

It’ll also take me a while to import all the content, especially with the portfolio, as it’s all in bits and pieces.

Meanwhile, please leave comments on what is or is not working, and any other suggestions you might have. It’s all appreciated.

Before the dawn of time, before man crawled out from the mud, before Richard Dawson left Match Game to host “the Feud”… I decided to start up a new vanity site, ostensibly to house my portfolio and other project-related materials.

I’ve resisted joining the blogosphere, lo these many years. After much soul-searching, I’ve come to understand that I have an acute fear of saying something stupid. Seeing how low the bar is set, though, I feel I will be in good company.

So, I invite you to enjoy… o dear god, the blogging.

keep reading…