Month: April 2014

As we gravitate towards the world of paperless, what does it mean for the old guards like newspapers and notebooks?

I’m sure there are people who are delighted by the switch to digital reading – the convenience of having them everywhere in a portable device is truly hard to beat. In meetings, people are increasingly whipping out their tablets and smartphones in place of pen and paper. They finger type faster and autocorrect can sometimes be valuable in fast-paced settings.

But there and then, the surge of going all digital means we leave little behind. Not legacy, but something tangible to remind us of the journey we have undertaken. The roughed edges of an old newspaper cut-out, the writings on the worn notebook, they are signs of ageing. Just like us, they can’t escape the effect of time. Just like us, they represent a part of our past. The romance of having analog items can be so alluring and humbling.

Imagine what’s it like to be working in a company for 11 years, and suddenly, it was gone. The truth must be hard to rationalise and accept. Brett Peters was unfortunately on the receiving end of this incident.

What’s left is his Field Notes notebooks, 22 of them. For the past 6 years, those notebooks have been with him. The recounts of his work, effort and time and all manifested within the boundaries of those notebooks. I kept the A4 sized diary/ journal when I quitted my last job. Like Brett, they were my sweat. I’m holding on to it as a physical form of recognition, even though no one but myself will really ever re-read it. But it’s important and crucial that I keep a record of this, for it reminds me of my struggles and triumphs.

Life is a lot about memories and journeys. It can be digitalised, and will be digitalised as the next generation grows up surrounded by tablets and stylus. The romance of pen and paper will never fade though. It is the simplest and the most tangible way we reconnect with the past, and I hope to strike a balance between the abundance of digital offerings and the dimimishing tradition of analog. 

In the weekly edition of Caesura Letters, I read about the concept of washing the bowl. It’s a way of life, initiated by a Vietnamese Buddhist monk named Thích Nhất Hạn.

He teaches that when washing the bowl, focus on the act of washing the bowl. Too often, I’m only concerned about rushing through the soiled dishes. The objective was not to wash the bowl, but to finish washing them.

It’s not just because it’s a chore. When doing something enjoyable and relaxing – watching a movie, sipping coffee in a nice cafe, and reading my favourite magazine, I never really “live the moment” and savour the things I always wanted to do. Instead, my mind’s filled up with tasks yet to be done. I’m always looking forward without understanding the present.

This sentence particularly sums up what I’m going through. Our tendency to mentally disengage from our tasks means that we are forever living in the future…Whatever we are doing, it seems, becomes a task we practically ignore in order to think about the next task.

Indeed, my thoughts are always filled with the next cafe to visit, the next movie to watch, the next book to get and what’s happening at work. My mind never seem to be in the present, even though I’m doing what’s supposed to be done on the agenda. It’s actively seeking out new things to do. There’s a disconnection between my body and mind. The body lives in the present while the mind lives in the future. I never really feel, smell and appreciate the things before me until I consciously grasp this concept of washing the bowl.

It has been instrumental in my change of outlook in life. I no longer cafe-hop to merely document them in Day One or Field Notes. I travel to new cafes to seek out new adventures and smell the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. I no longer sit through the show for the sake of striking another movie or TV drama off the “must-watch” list. I listen intently to the dialogues and appreciate the cinematography. I make an effort to never do work-related stuffs at home or when I’m with my partner. It should never precede the precious personal weekends we spend together.

The simplest thing may sometimes be the hardest thing to do. Is it so hard to not look beyond the things before you? I used to struggle with this and in return, I was never done chasing things after things. 

Now, I’ve learned to slow down and smell the roses. It may not always work, but by making a conscious effort, I’m beginning to reap the rewards of experiencing life in a more tangible and honest manner. 

My recent obsession with everything notebook related has led me into uncharted territory. Never a person to be interested in stationaries, I’m now feverishly sourcing for the ideal setup of pen and notebook. I curiously starred into the everyday carry of others, looking to pick up some inspirations along the way.

Somewhere deep in Flickr, amidst the pile of notebooks and pens and chronodex, stood a photo that caught my attention. It was taken by Anna Bieniek. So transfixed and mesmerised by it that I felt the urge and desire to find out more.

Her blog, Morning With Coffee certainly didn’t disappoint. There is something tangible and real about it. Coffee, notebook, analog camera, stamps, envelope with vintage postcard, aged boots, hand-drawn planner, loving illustrations, faded leaves and sunset at the ocean. I could probably go on, but the best way to take in all these is to head over to her site. If you are not hard-up for time, do take some moment to read through her main site.

Honestly, I can spend my entire afternoon, with a coffee by my side, browsing through the exquisite photos and admiring her creations.

I don’t know if Nutella’s new packaging is limited edition, or they have clean up the excess and decided to go with the minimistic design.

Some time back, I posted something on brand minimalism, where the designer put a clean and minimal look on the packaging. Obviously, some worked better than the other. I shared my thoughts on how Nutella’s packaging could look promising by adopting a simple approach that showcases their signature content.

Nutella packaging could be so alluring this way. I thought besides retaining the typeface, the brand essence could be better brought out if it follows the black and red colour scheme.

Update: It may indeed be a limited run, judging by the wordings across the bottom. I must have missed it the first time. 

How cool it would be, if your guests are to receive a wedding invitation in the form of notebook. To complement the rustic environment, a couple carefully designed and illustrated the invite using Scout Book.

I like this concept. A map of the premise, a little backdrop on the couple’s life, some doodles and meaningful quotes. Binding it together is an aged newspaper, secured with twine.

A lot of thoughts, effort and time must have gone into the making of this notebook. Together with this wedding invitation I shared last year, they’re two of the charming ones I would love to send or receive.

I admit, after reading the review on Minimally Minimal, I was tempted to get myself a Shinola watch. So good was his photography and the marketing philosophy behind this Detroit brand that I have no qualms shelling out a neat $500 on a company I have never heard of.

Recently, the emphasis on American made products are on the rise. It first came to my attention with Field Notes, then Pad & Quill pique my interest with its range of leather products. Now, Shinola is the latest kid on the block. We always like romance and Detroit, with its strong American roots, is a good place to rekindle that old flame. Why not start a factory there and show the world the magnificent products Shinola are able to craft?

Coincidence or not, the recently revamped and beautifully decorated department store in my town has a small section dedicated to Shinola. It’s comprehensively stocked, with notebooks, bicycle, shoe shine and of course, watches. Shinola certainly sees itself as a brand that doesn’t compete on pricing. It differentiates by being a proud American company with a dedication and passion put into making each craft. Having said that, I can’t help but think that some of their products are overpriced. 

The great brands appeal to us emotionally. Coupled this with a functional (being aesthetically pleasing is a bonus) product that solves problems, we have something that enhances our lives and touches our soul. We support developers that focus on making the best software, sacrificing sleep (sometimes their full-time job) and devoting their time in making things they believe in. We shun big coffee chains and love independent joints because the owners are just like us, living the dream of doing something they love and sharing them with the world. In many ways, we are buying into an association, emotion, dream, freedom and lifestyle.

Things can backfire if brands don’t live up to their promise. I was disappointed when I read FOUR-PINS’ article on Shinola. In truth, Shinola wasn’t being dishonest. It’s just underwhelming to discover that having built the brand promise around the city of Detroit, I had expected more.

Shinola not being a true made-in-Detroit company, the watches not being manufactured there, and the bikes are barely being assembled there. They didn’t really bother me that much. The thing that really irks me is the way they are using Detroit to front their marketing efforts.

Om Malik summed up my sentiment:

Shinola became the white knight for the city of Detroit, which has badly in need for a hero. Shinola’s marketing message: we are bringing back manufacturing to Detroit. The myth of the brand and that do-good-factor has helped it get an entry into high-end stores like Barneys.

It’s really not easy to build a sustainable and honest brand. Crafting the primary marketing message and having its value proposition revolve around that, audience naturally expect some kind of truth to the statement. However, the truth as Jon Moy uncovered, is one that’s likely to make people who wants to get Shinola sit up and take note.

A wise man once said:

If you want to get something done, give it to a busy person. 

I can relate to this. Having too much time on hand means I have time to procrastinate, to ponder and to idle. Knowing that I can come back to the task at a later time is actually hindering me from completing it right away.

It happens to all of us (at least the majority, I supposed). The more time we have, the less urgency we have to plough through the work. Looking back, the most productive days were always when I’m in a frantic mode, scrambling to make the most out of the limited hours. When things got hectic, the mind and hands worked harmoniously in tackling the issues. I have no option except to execute them right away.

In many ways, it has enabled me to produce stellar work. Not immediately – but they are the foundation that allowed me to refine and polish. Sometimes, we tend to overthink too much. There are times when the way to move forward is to do it.

Here and now.