If I can remember correctly, in my lifetime, I’ve wanted to be:

• An astronaut
• A pilot
• Aladdin
• A pastor
• A drummer
• A guitarist
• A singer/songwriter
• A sound engineer
• A record producer
• Han Solo
• Darth Vader
• A comedian
• An author
• A chef
• A cowboy
• Simba

What I didn’t realize until now is that, really, I was all of those things. Even if it was just for a few minutes. Problem is, I didn’t stick with them. I let them go for fear of not being “good enough,” or something like that.

But I’ve learned that life isn’t about what you do for a few minutes. It’s about what you do well, and what you do often.

We are known for what we make. We are remembered as people who take from the world, or as people who create beautiful things while we’re on it.

What you create culminates into “who you are.” Your creations are the stories people tell about you at the bar, over coffee, and in their blog posts. What you “create” can be music, or laughs, or food, or conversation, or paintings, or forts on Hoth to try and hide from the Imperial forces that have lightsabers outside (and you only have your blaster)

Did you know you can actually be Han Solo these days and your mom won’t even kick you out of your house*?

I probably would have been a good Han Solo.

Make something.

* It’s a recession, folks, c’mon.

In my experience, the hardest part about working as a team is making sure that everybody has the information they need to do their jobs well. It’s a balancing act on the part of the the designers, production artists, programmers, and project managers of any team, to ensure that everybody has the information they need — but not so much (or so little) information that it’s overwhelming.

Whether you’re creating projects, apps or products for your own company, or you’re doing client work, it’s a tough balance to achieve.

To give you an example of how I’ve dealt with this, in March of this year, my magazine, Proxart, was trying to accomplish three massive initiatives at once: We were completely overhauling our website, getting ready to publishthe eighth issue of our magazine, and producing a SXSW Music event. All three projects were in development at the same time, and we had set them all to release on the same weekend.

Brilliant, right?

Everybody had to do their job. Nobody had any extra time to worry about whether or not the other people on the team were doing their job. But, at the same time, if one person didn’t do what they were assigned to do, the whole thing would have fallen flat.

So to safe-guard the possibility of someone forgetting what their job was, and to make sure that everybody was aware of what they needed to do, I started posting two messages on Basecamp a week. On Monday, I published what I came to call a “Huddle,” and on Friday we reviewed.

It works something like this:

“Design Your ‘How’: Huddle, then Review,” for The Industry*

*The Industry is a new publishing company that’s focused on design-focused startups. I’ve been writing for them for a while now and, for some reason, today is the first day it dawned on me to say anything about it here. They’re great guys. You should follow along.

The introduction of broadcast radio caused some in the newspaper industry to fear that newspapers would soon become a thing of the past. After all, who would read the news when you could just turn on the radio for real-time updates?

Newspapers had even more to fear in 1938 when radio thought it might compete with them in the deadtree business as well.

The May, 1938 issue of Hugo Gernsback‘s Short Wave and Television magazine included an article titled “Radio to Print News Right In Your Home.” The article described a method of delivering newspapers that was being tested and (provided it didn’t interfere with regular radio broadcasts) would soon be used as a futuristic news-delivery method.

—”Print the News, Right In Your Home!” on The Smithsonian’s ‘Paleofuture’ blog

Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?

“This New Medium is going to kill That Old Medium!”

“Our Old Way Of Doing Things is going to die because This New Way Of Doing Things just took over!”

As you all well know, Instagram was acquired by Facebook for $1 billion after 18 months of existence, while The New York Times is reportedly worth a meager (by comparison) $976 million, after being around for 116 years.

Is something wrong with that?

Nope. Fortunately or unfortunately, that’s just the way it works. And if you take another look at the quote above you’ll notice two things:

1. It was written in 1938.
2. Newspapers were scared of going extinct because radio was making it easier for current readers to consume information.

Newspapers! Radio! Two things that still exist! In 2012! 74 years later!

Despite so many changes in both of those industries, those mediums are still around. Yes, their format of delivery might be in a constant state of change right now, but that doesn’t mean people don’t still want consistent news, information and entertainment.

I read The New York Times on my iPad every morning.

I listen in on NPR.org almost every day.

I would hate it if newspapers or radio went extinct.

The iPad and my laptop represent two means of delivery that people in those industries could have barely even dreamed of in 1938. And if they could have dreamed them up, I would be surprised if they didn’t jump at the chance to try and turn them into a reality right away. In fact, that’s what the “printable newspaper” above represents: It’s an archaic way of viewing the way the reader get their news.

You don’t have to go to it; it comes to you.

Industries are disrupted every day, it seems, with a new player that “fundamentally changes” the way that business is done. Some companies play the game, and others—even some of our favorites—decide they don’t want to, and they die. That’s life.

Progress is inevitable. Our acceptance of it isn’t.

Information is information is information, regardless of the medium or format of delivery.

You should play along.

Customers don’t care how much time something takes to build. They care only if it serves their needs.

— Eric Reis, The Lean Startup

The world is full of good ideas. I’m sure you’re full of good ideas too. I know I am.

The question is: Does the world need your good ideas?

And if they do but just don’t know it yet, are you willing to be the one that points out the problem so you can then point out your solution?

If you can’t answer both of those questions with a yes, I’d be willing to say your good idea might not be worth your time.

After months, and months, and months, we’ve finally released the eight issue of Proxart Magazine, featuring  Damien Jurado, Sean Pecknold, PAPA, Imogene & Willie, Poketo, Alex Eben Meyer, Colin Martin, Ian Schneller, Ryan Booth, and Devin Asaro.

Clocking in at over 100 pages, this is our longest magazine by 32.

I’m sure I’ll have more thoughts on how we pulled this off later. But, for now, I’m going to go into a productivity-induced coma¹.

PM8 is available at Proxart.co/PM8 as a pay-what-you-want download, and in print. Huzzah!

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¹ Curious just how much my staff and I pulled off over the last few weeks to make our new website, magazine, KXSC and SXSW events happen? Check out our Basecamp to-do list. And please keep in mind we got all of this done on top of our full-time jobs.

I couldn’t be happier with the design and functionality of this website. New magazine tomorrow.

And, it’s true: I am.

Yes, Proxart was born out of collective boredom. It absolutely plays a major part in the narrative. And it’s likely that much of my current staff wouldn’t have stayed in Santa Clarita, if it weren’t for the fact that we were bored together, and decided to do something constructive with our boredom.

But, frankly, it’s much more than that. We started Proxart because we love art, we love people, we love community, and we love telling good stories about how art impacts every community.

Of course, initially, it started with us putting on little art shows around town and, eventually, after all the local shops we were supporting closed down, we started our magazine. But, being that we’re based online and the Internet knows no bounds, people from all around the world have been reciprocating our love of art, of their community and of storytelling. So we’ve been adding contributors from all over who share that sentiment with us and want to help form little editorial hubs in their city, suburb, or small town.

So don’t be fooled: Proxart is a communal thing. Proxart is a positive thing. It always has been, and it always will be.

Negativity is so boring.

Proxart is getting ready to go through quite a massive transition—our way of conducting business is changing, our mission and vision are changing, and, to make sure everybody knows it, we’re completely re-branding.

Read all about it, and get a look at the re-design here.

As an adult, anything could be right. You have unlimited options.

And that is what’s disorienting; having unlimited options for detergent, for chicken, for wine, for your spouse, for your career. Thing is, maybe only a few of those inexhaustible options are good for you and/or worth your time.

But you have to sift through many of the options available to you before you make an informed decision. So you’re forced to trudge along through endless scents of soap, and many undrinkable-to-you pinot noirs before you realize that, maybe, you should just pick a career in something you enjoy. You should drink wine that you like regardless of its rating, and wash your clothes in detergent that you are keen on smelling (who cares if anybody else likes that you always smell like lavender?). You should stay close to good friends, and not worry about the others.

It’s true: You can be anything you want to be. But you can’t be everything you want to be. And not everything you want, or want to be, is right.

The digital age does remove us from the tactile work, the more hands on. And I think there is a longing in our soul to get back to that. Even if we can’t, there’s something about these places that people want to occupy.

Have you ever thought about the weight of a few words? If this mini-documentary is any indication—Mr. Paul Collier (of Plymouth University) has. Every day. From the time he wakes up and polishes his moveable type, to the time he cleans them (again) before closing up shop.

There is so much to be learned. And so much that, though it has been learned, won’t be valuable in 50 years. That’s because creating value takes time—both in creation, and appreciation. And if something isn’t being valued as it’s being created—if you’re not willing to do the work, respect and love the process—then chances are it won’t be valued as an individual piece years from now either.

Which is why things like (1) this blog, (2) anything that falls under the category of “social media,” and (3) much of the design work I’ve done over the last few years are semi-alarming. They’re not sustainable. I’m fairly certain that few people in “The Future” are going to check out my blog, and wade through all the shitty content to find the good stuff.

Which means the benefit to having a full, printed, carefully thought out portfolio (of any kind of work) is that it becomes an artifact. It’s something that becomes valuable based on how many (or how few) copies are available, how much time was put into the process of creating (and narrowing down, and selecting) its contents.

At this point, even though I own an iPad, an iPhone, and a MacBook Pro, other than the device itself, I can’t say that any of the content on it is something I’m going to—or even going to be able to—”pass down” to the next generation.

I guess we’ll just have to hope my SEO is well thought out? Or something.