I’m back to sketching and drawing. I had tried my hand at water color and still would love to work more with it in the future but at the moment, it would appear that time is a bit short. So picking up a pencil and drawing seems like the next best thing. It’s good to create other things that aren’t confined to grids and client feedback. I wouldn’t mind getting back to where I was 11 years ago when I took a life drawing class my senior year at UC. By the end of that quarter, I was drawing from the inside out and now I’ve reverted back to defining the shape first, filling in second. Obviously, my limited talent in the medium only allows for so much.

A couple years ago, my parents celebrated their 40th anniversary and my brother, sister and I threw them a party to celebrate that fact. At that party, I talked for several minutes with one of my Dad’s cousins, Ronald Newman. He was 13 years my Dad’s senior and was a cousin on his mom’s side. The Pour side. Ronald’s mom, Louise, must be 100 at this point. She was my Grandma’s sister. My Dad wasn’t yet thought of when my Grandpa Tyler went to WWII. And I’m not entirely sure if he and my Grandma were married, but Ronald told me that my Grandpa would send him “artillery art” back from Guam, which is where I believe he was stationed. Artillery art was name given to little trinkets soldiers created out of old casings and shells. They could also etch on them. What my Dad’s cousin was describing happened to be in my basement on a shelf just above my work bench. I’d held onto these things through several moves from home, to college, so on and so forth.

At some point after my Dad was born and was old enough, I suppose, he felt as though they belonged to him  and so he gave them to him and my Dad, in turn, gave them to me… maybe 25 years ago. It felt good to talk about a connection like that. One that only four people really cared about… myself, my Dad, my Grandpa and Ronald. I wanted to send him a picture. I had his email address. I had a camera. All I had to do was take the five minutes it would’ve taken to snap a couple shots, upload them and send them off. I would imagine that it would’ve brought a smile to his face at the very least.

And now, after a year-and-a-half of procrastination, that opportunity is no more. I was talking with my Uncle Chuck last night and by way of an unrelated story, he told me that they had recently gone to one of their cousin’s funerals. I knew it was Ronald and it hit me like a punch in the stomach. It wasn’t grief necessarily, because I didn’t know him all that well. It was guilt. I owed him that picture. My Grandpa’s initial thoughtfulness was paid forward twice more and I couldn’t even snap a picture. Life will always be busy but procrastination only exasperates that feeling.

My losing battle with procrastination dates back to as early as I can remember. I’ve read hundreds of advice columns on way to combat this chronic problem but I naturally slip back into the same patterns. It’s not that I don’t get things done because I do. It’s that it seems to always be in a hurried frenzy. Some would disagree, but I work fairly well under pressure so either I’ve adapted to my procrastination or I actually prefer to work this way and giving myself more time would only result in a lower quality product. I wouldn’t know because I’ve yet to try the latter.

This instance is particularly painful because of the personal nuances involved. Sending a couple of pictures may have started a larger conversation about my Grandpa, who, after multiple strokes, couldn’t talk much. Or even about a side of my family that I don’t know a whole lot about. Only that they farmed and were prone to being crotchety. So here’s your picture Ronald. Unfortunately, “better late than never” doesn’t apply here.

I went and visited Brad yesterday for lunch and got a taste of the good life. Roof access. It’s good to know folks in high places.

After nine and a half years with Envoi Design, I’m moving on to lpk – a Cincinnati-based agency with multiple offices and influence around the world – where I’ll take over at the Design Delineator Position. The hardest part of all this might be remembering to turn right down Race instead of taking Central Parkway all the way to Main on Monday morning. It’s hard to know what to say. For nearly a decade, I’ve called Envoi home. Even when I was in Columbus for more than three years, it was the mother ship. We were a small tight-knit group who continually overcame challenges to meet deadlines and wow clients.

This move will be good for the both of us. Shake things up. Stir the pot. Spur growth.

I’m looking forward to being in a big office. I’ll see unique faces everyday. And I like people. When I was in Columbus, I thought I’d make a go at working from home. I went mad… or went to the coffee shop, stayed too long, drank too much coffee and went mad. I’m not suited for a lonely existence. I also want to see what types of challenges exist in this design environment. I feel like I bring a lot to lpk’s table. I hope that’s still true in three months. And I owe some of that to Envoi. I worked through many solutions on my own, start to finish, essentially because I had to. There wasn’t much time to discuss direction or develop a plan of attack. “Get in there and get it done” was our battle cry on most days. Not necessarily the way I would’ve preferred to go about things, but it certainly helped me in the end.

When I graduated from school in 2002, I compiled a list of things I’d learned over the course of my five years at UC. So in the name of one chapter ending and another beginning, I’ll see what’s I got and depending on how many nasty iChats I get, I’ll then determine if they were even slightly effective.

Designing for designers is called a hobby.
Designing for clients is work. Do both.
Make it beautiful and functional or don’t sell it.
Do your homework so that you might be more than just opinionated.
Fight fair for good ideas.
Look embarrassments in the eye. Then move on.
Listen. Listen. Listen.
Try your best to answer your phone when someone calls you.
As great as gossip is, it always leaves a bad taste in your mouth.
Copyright something.
Take on at least one humungous project.
Gain perspective for everyone’s sake.

That’s all I’ve got for now. I’m sure I’m missing some. Like… Don’t pee on the seat. Or… Turkey sandwiches Monday, Roast beef on Tuesday.

Adios Envoi. New adventures await us all.