Flair Pens, Napkins and French Takeout
Something shifted last week. Maybe it was some planet coming out from behind a cosmic cloud, maybe just a burst of energy. I got sucked into a series of creative visual projects. This happens from time to time. I call it the Flair on napkin effect. My father was a graphic designer. He kept his pocket full of flair pens. He had a special thing for drawing things on napkins, and he used to do a lot of sketching. These napkins were scattered about our house growing up and I used to love examining them. I wish I had saved some of my father's napkins. Sigh.
Now imagine that you wake up one day and suddenly you want to try to tackle a picky detailed project, one that you normally wouldn't touch with a ten foot pole. Sometimes you just happen to have that pocket full of Flair pens. Sometimes life is a nice big cocktail napkin, just waiting for a drawing. I know myself well enough to know that this doesn't happen very often and to seize it immediately. Fortunately I was in a position to do it over this past week. I cleared the decks for some down time, I put down my schedule, my lists and tasks, and took the phone off the hook. I took some time when I didn't write or research or talk much, time when I just thought about color and form and numbers. I can't say I accomplished anything of great importance. But at least I learned some things, and we ate some good takeout.