process – Page 2 – sara mcguyer

Make Goodness

In any given year for nearly twenty years, if asked, ‘What is my purpose in life?’ I would have said: create, create, create.

Just one simple word. I’m incredibly driven by the magical process of thinking > idea! > making. For me, it’s not always clear from whence ideas come, but there they are, begging to be reckoned with, this thing that is uniquely mine.

About six months ago, I had the opportunity to think pretty deeply on my own purpose as part of Factory Week and landed on something close to create, but a little more me: make goodness. It sounds a little silly, but sort of like how I talk.

In thinking on it again, make goodness just sticks as my personal mantra. I think it applies to much of what I value, representing both the grand and simple pursuits of my life:

Writing. A lot. I hope.
Building something really amazing for my favorite nonprofit: Indy Film Fest.
Painting.
Gardening. (I will pickle this year, I will pickle this year, I will pickle… maybe I have a gardening mantra, too?)
Baking.
(you get the idea!)

There were some other words I considered:
I love bringing people together, so I liked connect or convene.

Whether connecting the dots for people when I can tell they don’t get something, or bringing people together that ought to meet, connecting is rewarding stuff. For example, one of my new missions is to match-make co-workers with nonprofits. Finding a good fit does transfer some goodness into the world, so, I’m going to say this is loosely covered by my mantra already.

I love the idea of inspiring others to create, so I considered words like ignite or spark.

I ruled this out because I feel I have a lot of personal making to do before I could really inspire others. Maybe one day.

This post is part of Think Kit by SmallBox
Today’s prompt: “Write a mantra for the year ahead – how you’ll approach it, what you wish it to be. How’d you arrive at the mantra?”

Listen Up

When I go to a yoga studio, I seek out the instructors who move at a faster pace. This typically lands me in vinyasa flow classes with a “one breath, one movement” approach. The kind of class where I leave drenched, and not because it’s a hot room, but because I worked for it.

At the other end of the spectrum is yin yoga. It’s peaceful and slow, focusing on fewer, deeper postures. I find it incredibly challenging, but not in a physical way. My brain just goes all over the place.

I’m a thinker. If there’s anything I continuously fail at it’s quieting and calming my mind. I’ve been aware for some time that my one big beast is finding focus.

It didn’t occur to me until today that this might affect my listening skills. I know. Hello, Captain Obvious, right? If my mind is always moving, I can’t possibly listen as deeply as I should.

When was the last time, with a clear mind, I gave full and total focus to the conversation at hand? When I could honestly say there wasn’t something – an incoming email, a random thought, my next meal – lurking in the corners of my head?

Today, a couple of things happened. This is about to get heavy. I went to ThriveMap, a purpose-finding and goal-setting event. They asked me to write my eulogy, what I hope my loved ones would write about after my passing. This is a grounding and sorrowful thing to consider.

Then, the horrific news from Connecticut, another senseless loss of lives. No pretend stuff here. Real eulogies that shouldn’t yet be written.

If ever there was a time to listen, to love, to live in the moment, now. Now I will go home and listen as deeply as I can.

This post is part of Think Kit by SmallBox
Today’s prompt: “Listening — when was the last time you listened to someone, where, why?”

Fire in the Sky

Indiana knows how to crown clouds with the setting sun. An exact replica I could never capture. Instead, I took the idea of fire in the sky quite literally and lit a fluffy cloud aflame.

I am an inpatient dabbler in art. The ideas come and I want to get them down on paper or canvas quickly, then move on. In an art class during my freshman year of college, the teacher observed incorrectly: “You draw with the confidence of a senior.” Less than confidence, it’s an urgency to finish, one that I find tough to shake. My haste makes for art that garbles the original idea, often leads to abandoned work, or even discourages trying in the first place.

Sometimes I can will myself to slow down. Other times, I try to fill the need to create with a quick win.

I made this ode to Indiana this morning because in reflecting on 2012 creative projects, I was feeling low that I had created so little. From ideation, to pencil sketch on canvas, to color mixing to finished work, this 4 x 4 inch painting was the work of a half hour or so. While not a work of which I’m very proud, at a time when I needed it, this little Fire in the Sky filled that need to create.

This post is part of Think Kit by SmallBox
Today’s prompt: “What did you make this year? Whether work-related or something more personal (like a song, craft project, or work of art), share your process and the end result.”

Into the Woods

This summer, my husband and I talked about how much we needed a getaway to a cabin in the woods. We meant to plan it for our anniversary in October. We got busy, time slipped away and it never got scheduled.

Our one big vacation in 2012 was an east coast swing, from Annapolis to Philadelphia to NYC. It was exciting and amazing, but in 2013, this is what I want vacation to look like:

Vacation Inspiration Board

About this inspiration board process:
This morning when I woke up, instead of reading up on blogs or diving into a work project as I often do, I got out the scissors, glue stick and a big stack of magazines.

Vacation hadn’t been on my mind recently, but I’m not surprised I went there. I’ve had a long week: 11 hour work days, Think Kit management, Indy Film Fest board meeting.

But then something really surprising happened.

What happened next, you ask?

Just after completing this inspiration board, at the young hour of 7 a.m. I got not one, but two big ideas in a row. The first, a personal creative project for me. I’m not ready to share it yet, but I will say it involved a quick domain purchase. The second, an idea for a new pursuit for my husband.

Will either of these ideas be realized? I don’t know. But any day that delivers two ideas I’m proud of is a good one indeed. Morning crafting, I may just re-visit you more often.

This post is part of Think Kit by SmallBox
Today’s prompt: “What do you want your life (or your kitchen, your job, your x) to look like? Create your own inspiration board.”

Focus

A Good Kind of Disruption
I might not have noticed if I hadn’t accidentally hoarded my vacation days resulting in an extra long winter break. Aside from a bit of work on Think Kit I spent far less time at a computer since I don’t know when. Whatever work and thought patterns I’d developed were wholly disrupted by excesses of lounging, family time and movie-watching.

Sore Thumb Multitasking
And thank goodness. Otherwise, it may not have seemed so weird on returning to work when my brain instantly switched to that internet-fueled multitask mode – you know, the one when you have one eye on tweetdeck and incoming email while you’re knee deep in a project.

That first day back, I didn’t sit at my desk to work straight away. Instead, I stopped in the main room to flip through the newspaper. In came a co-worker to chat up the holidays. As we shared stories of our break, I couldn’t stop thumbing though the paper. All the while – my thought process: “Wow, this is really odd. Why am I flipping through this during our conversation…” until the inevitable lost train of thought.

A-ha! That was weird, huh?
Routine multitasking of internets and inboxes would have felt like the normal business of getting back to work. This multitasking was just plain weird, so I had a greater awareness of the shift in my brain. I noticed the fogginess, the slower processing, the not-quite-grasping any one thing as fully as I might with a more singular focus. It became obvious that despite the gross inefficiency of chronic multitasking, I was hard-wiring my brain to work this way, even when it didn’t matter.

Frankly, it scared the hell out of me. I wonder if I can break this bad boy, and if so, how much more I’ll accomplish?

Home Work

In the days of apartment living, I bought this tiny desk. It serves more as a storage place for mail piles, knitting needles and other supplies. I tend to only work here if I want to use my Wacom drawing tablet. The desk is just wide enough to house my 17” laptop, the tablet and a cup of coffee.

Mostly, if I’m working from home, it happens right here:

This post is part of Think Kit 2011.

Tamale, Glass & a 45

Yesterday at SmallBox, my coworker Justin Shimp started playing some songs from his youth. It sparked a conversation about music we bought when we were kids. There was a brief time in my early music-buying days when new releases were still pressed on vinyl. My sister and I had some great albums – Madonna’s True Blue, Thriller, and some true eighties gems like Debbie Gibson and Tiffany.

When I think of my early music obsessions, I always think of a 45 I had of Suzanne Vega’s My Name is Luka. On the flip side, she sang a Spanish version of the song. As a young midwestener, it was exotic and mind-blowing – and in hindsight it was pretty darn progressive for the time.

Reminiscing about that 45, I’ve decided I’ve got to have it again. I’ll be scouring used record bins, and I’m pretty excited about this new vinyl mission.

See, here’s the thing. I don’t like to mindlessly shop for things. One of the reasons I love going to antique stores is because I have an almost complete set of light blue depression glass. Five tea cups, six saucers, six side plates and three dinner plates. Four pieces away from completion. I’m sure I could find them on eBay, but then I wouldn’t have the satisfaction of the hunt. I love going in to places like this with a mission. I have others, like finding the best tamale, and now, an old Suzanne Vega 45. I like attaching purpose to the things I do.

It has me thinking about vision and mission in business and life too. I recently went through an exercise with the Indy Film Fest board to revisit our own statements. Like so many businesses and organizations, ours didn’t really reflect our identity. The statement was stiff and boring and verbose. As a group, we brainstormed. We stared at each other a little. We had a hard time finding our voice, feeling okay adding personality into something so official as the MISSION statement. We wrote several lines, mashed them up, crossed some out, narrowed it down.

It was liberating. And awesome. I can say our new mission statement in conversation and feel like a real person, not a talking head reciting some lofty, meaningless phrase.

I’ve read some personal mission statements here and there on the web. Often, I don’t feel like they say much of anything about the person they’re meant to describe. I’ve never gone through the process for myself personally. Maybe it’s time, but I’m hoping for something bigger, more defining than the little missions I assign myself.

If I write it, will I use it? Will I put it here on my blog or my resume? Will it guide the choices I make? I’m not sure, but I think I’ll enjoy the process either way.

Until then, placeholder: ‘I seek the best tamale in the world, an old Suzanna Vega 45 with My Name is Luka en español and blue depression glass plates and tea cup.’

Image credits: Suzanne Vega – “Luka” photo by Geoff B. via Flickr | Untitled photo by nosuchsoul via Flickr

Brain Blips and Beautiful Simplicity

The other day I was providing feedback on a logo design and I was reminded of some words of fashion wisdom from Coco Chanel. She advised women to remove one item before leaving the house, or else risk being over accessorized. It was the same with the logo. Removing one element transformed it from a brand mark that, while interesting, would have created a bit of chaos for the eye.

I thought of it again a couple of nights ago while listening to Jack Dorsey of twitter and square fame explain how he was driven towards beautiful simplicity on Charlie Rose. Beautifully simplicity. Sounds lovely, doesn’t it?

I often wonder why simplicity can be so elusive, so downright difficult to achieve. Is it because of an inclination that we need and crave all information available? Is it because we’re accustomed to doing things in a particular way which has obscured other paths? Are we wired to tinker, to add more, do more, to over-communicate?

As I’ve tried to envision how to simplify (processes, design, communication), I feel no closer to final answers, but I have learned the importance of that first step of acknowledging opportunity for improvement.

Learn to recognize when your eye trips over an element in a design or your thinking is slowed by a step in a process, even if only for a blip of a second. I equate these feelings to the pause you feel as your brain tries to autocorrect typos or determine if an unknown word in a sentence obscures your understanding of a concept. It can sometimes be subtle, easily ignored.

My #1 lesson learned in the quest for simplicity is this:
Don’t ignore the things that make your brain stumble.

Each little blip could be a nudge toward a more beautiful simplicity. I’m assessing my process for all sorts of things, how I connect and communicate, how to recognize when technology aids or deters an undertaking. Until I figure it out, I think I’ll apply Coco’s rule of minus one.

What is That Thing Anyway?

December 4 Wonder.
How did you cultivate a sense of wonder in your life this year? (Prompt author: Jeffrey Davis)

Long ago, in a high school classroom, I learned a lesson about cultivating wonder. Mr. Hughes, an English teacher with a knack for prodding creativity, presented a strange object to the class. He asked us to guess what this flat block of green-painted wood with two metal scrolls coming out of it could be. To be honest, I don’t even remember what it was, or what I guessed for that matter, and simple identification wasn’t the real point of the exercise anyway.

Several students took turns, each with his or her own idea of uses for it. Mr. Hughes would hold the object in front of them while they guessed. When my turn came I took the object from his hands so I could move it around, examine it from different angles. I pulled the metal scrolls apart, and upon letting them go they made a clanging sound.

“Exactly!” he said. He didn’t just want us to look at the object. He wanted us to explore it by engaging all of our senses. It took more time and effort to investigate further and taking it from his hands hadn’t been part of the instructions. But new possibilities were suddenly unlocked. Movement and sound weren’t part of the equation when merely looking at the object. I’m sure he had no idea how much this small moment shaped my thinking.

The brain is wired to make quick observations. Rely on only one sense, and you’ll likely follow the fast and easy path your mind creates for you. Consider the McGurk effect, when what you see can override what you hear. How easy is it to accept what we see and move on, when our own brain will play tricks on us to keep the world orderly?

Openness and patience to wonder and discovery. That’s the key to my world view. This way of operating can be quite infuriating to type A personalities. I might seem pokey or scattered to someone more interested in the direct path. There’s method in this madness, though. And a whole world out there to mull over.

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This post is a part of #reverb10 by Gwen Bell. Gwen and her team enlisted a group of authors to write prompts for each day in December. Participants can blog, tweet or post photos in reaction to the prompts to reflect on the past year.

Work for Trade?

I recently did a quick design job for trade, a drink special flyer for a restaurant in exchange for a meal for two. I think the value of the meal would be on par with what I’d charge, and it’s no secret that I’m a huge foodie. I’m going to be dining out anyway, so it seemed like a great swap.

I saw this tweet a while ago, and it got me thinking about the barter system.

In my mind, the barter system would make consuming a more thoughtful process. When this project came along, I began thinking more about it. What do you think? Do you work for trade? Should we revisit the barter system?