We didn't think it could get any worse, but it did. The finalists for I Hate My Website Contest are now posted. See the results of the latest collaboration between Azul 7 and Deluxe Corporation at...

The other night I was at the MPLS AIGA show. The show is intended to display the best of what the industry is doing to solve problems for our clients. It's intent is to highlight the best of what those in the MPLS market are doing in design, annual reports, identities, ID systems, collateral material, packaging, etc. I've been fortunate enough in my career to participate in shows all over the world. I have worked with Kevin Swanaple from the One Club, one of the most respected leaders in the world.

Kevin maintains an honorable standard, he educates and he has crossed continental boundaries by bringing the One Clubs to places like China - a communist country where capitalism is evolving. He travels all over the world with his show, which teaches young people about the power of design, advertising, and interactive. And his peers respect him for it. I saw a lot of beautiful art work that, in the past, I would have categorized as illustration. There were a couple of very nice designed bottles and a couple of nice posters. I say Charles Andersen defines the new role of design in MPLS as an Arts & Crafts show.

What I didn't see was real work done by clients. Where was General Mills, 3M, Activision, Toro, Imation and Andersen Windows? Are you kidding me? And the work that was done by clients, such as Target, wasn't new, fresh or something we haven't already seen. It was a complete abomination of what this industry should be teaching and guiding. Where were the ID systems, packaging systems and collateral materials? I'm assuming that companies aside from design and advertising firms do them. I didn't see one annual report. And maybe they were there and I'm not remembering them. Sad. What makes a show work is the leadership that guides them. These people must see their craft stand above themselves. This makes them respected and honored. AIGA would be well served to find leaders like Kevin, someone that can bring focus to an industry and not self-promoting bias.

Buttons. They're everywhere. What started out as a physical, tactile object (did underwear really have buttons?) has even made it's way into the internet due to its functional purpose: push this, get that. You might be thinking, "So what?". Like me, until today you've rarely considered buttons. And why should you? They're just there. So obviously we take them for granted. Poor little buttons. I say it's about time we give the button its day in the sun, its 15 minutes of blog fame. 

It's primal. You feel it in your gut. Simply put, there are just some things that look freakin' good.

Being a designer is a full time job – and by full time job I mean 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. One's inner designer can never be turned off, no matter how heroic the attempt to ignore it. Each and every thing - from the Chinese take out menu on your refrigerator to the pattern on your sister's tank top - triggers some sort of designerly critique. You can call it whatever you want - designer's insomnia, the designer zombie, designer intuition, or just plain observation - but you can't make it go away.

In many ways a designer's ability to constantly absorb visual inspiration is a great asset, but for every spark of creative mojo that comes my way, there is always a counterpart that ruins a perfectly good conversation with friends or romantic moment with a loved one. What follows is my most recent account of the many ways my inner designer has tried to sabotage my life outside of work:

The Ice Cream Incident

A few weeks ago I spent the evening walking around one of our city's great lakes with some friends. We stopped for ice cream afterwards, and that is when the trouble started. My eyes became affixed to the pattern on my sister's tank top. I couldn't keep myself from staring rudely at her chest, trying to decipher where I had seen the pattern before. Was it one of the pages from Owen Jones' Grammar of Ornament? Or had I seen it on the website of a restaurant I recently visited? I could not wrap my mind around where this familiar pattern was haunting me from, and in a moment of frustration I finally blurted out "WHERE is that pattern from!?". I was completely zoned in to my sister's shirt, and equally zoned out of the conversation the rest of my friends were engaged in. Naturally, I didn't realize that my call of distress came at a most inopportune moment in the conversation. Silence followed, along with some blank stares and laughs. How could I have missed out entirely on what my friend was talking about because of some pattern on my sister's shirt? Was the origin of this graphic subconsciously more important that what my friends had to say? Doubtful. But how do I explain my deep frustration over this pattern to an actuary, teacher, and event coordinator? After an unsuccessful attempt, a few sighs, and shaking heads the interrupted conversation continued. Secretly, my mind still searched and searched for the source of the pattern.

Weeks later, I still have not completely figured out where I recognized the pattern from. I have spent many wasteful hours searching the internet and racking my brain for an answer, but still haven't gotten to the source. What I have learned is that the pattern is Persian in nature and based on a geometric system. Yes, a similar pattern is illustrated in the Grammar of Ornament (see above), but it's not a dead ringer. So….if anyone has seen this pattern and can identify its origin…PLEASE…help my put my inner designer to rest!