There’s a context, or framework, to the priority order of your users’ decision-making process on your site. You don’t have to get it right on your first pass, but you do always have to be aware you may have gotten it wrong.
Tired of people needing the dumbed-down version of things.
It’s past the point of jargon aversion: core concepts escape too many around me.
JSC put it well: “If you spend part of your life talking to PhDs, it’s not just how you say things that need to change when you talk to high school dropouts, it’s what you talk about.”
Obviously need to step my circles up, because i’m not having enough PhD level chats. Working on it.
..but in the meantime, things ain’t half bad.
Didn’t get what I wanted out of my little stunt, but I did get to execute it. That’s really all you can ask. Was really impressed with the client, and the team for giving me access. Also pushed send on another project i was enjoying. Fully baked. Finally, back to making shit.
Got the inlaws visiting this weekend, great weather, and a little more money than usual.
I’ll take it.
Daniella was totally right when she said the royalty free stuff just wasn’t doing the idea justice. So now we’re down to seeing if we can string together a collection that looks textured enough to be a page of flickr results against “sour face.” If I gotta work on a Sunday morning, I’m glad it’s this.
Meanwhile, Emerson has a pavlovian response to the countdown sound in photobooth.
Much more pleasant.
We weren’t close; he never even met my daughter. Yet and still, the loss is palpable: it’s as if the final grains have run through the hourglass. Curtain close. House lights up. Pencils down. We won’t get the chance to make it right.
My emotional registration of this event is difficult to discern at this moment.
…as this suggests.
Note the terrible halogens overhead, checkerboarded as they are by cork board panels. The Marriott Courtyard chair upholstery. The live conference terminal. The 11th grade science classroom seating. What you’re missing is the nasal drone of two equally squeaky accountants over my shoulder. The smell of new carpet. The awful whir of the NEC projector. I wish I still smoked weed. I woulda blown my top off before this one.