The Electron Gazette
Paralysis & The Cobbler's Kids
27 July 2008
There's that old saw that the cobbler's children have no shoes, and I have come to understand it better than I ever wanted.
I suspect a big reason for single-page "I'll be up soon" personal sites is the paralyzing perfectionism (or fear) to which many designers are prone. The thinking probably goes something like this: "I am a designer; I will be judged by my site, ergo my site needs to be indicative of my ability." Not having a site is not an option. Consequently, something has to be put up. The indecision over features, architecture, and which cutting edge approach to take usually results in procrastination, which in turn leads to despair. Several false starts are made, all equally disappointing and all abandoned. Finally, the imperative to post something — to post anything — cannot be resisted. A band-aid is slapped on the problem; a passably well-done, competent page is posted, with the promise of more to come in the indeterminate future. A year passes, with no change . . .
I do not know of any remedies, other than to just let go of ego and do something, and not worry about what anyone else thinks.
An Event Apart
04 October 2007
Conceits like a personal web site take a back seat to actual, paying work—and An Event Apart San Francisco, which is what I'm currently attending. It's demanding all of my attention until late tomorrow.
Exile and Return
14 September 2007
News Flash: After a protracted absence from the Web, Dave has returned to the virtual farm and has begun plowing the fields again. Asked what sort of crop he'll be cultivating, he responded "anything but facial hair. I've had enough of that for now."
He elaborated by saying, "As a young boy, I had a burning desire to grow a beard; after years of effort (and naturally occurring hormones) my dream finally came true. Endowed with this amazing ability, I experimented with all sorts of cuts and styles.
"Lamentably, I soon learned that a talent for growing beards did not translate well into worldly success, so I began concentrating on other things. That worked out okay for the most part, yet I always had this persistent feeling that something was missing. Then, a few years ago, I got back into beards. Before that, the cultivation and trimming of beards had become a hobby I pursued in my spare time. My rekindled interest became a full-time obsession; I grew Mutton Chops, a Van Dyke, a Handlebar-With-Chin-Puff, a Goatee, a Balbo, a Chin Curtain, a Hulihee—just to name a few. Then one morning, after I had grown and trimmed a really terrific Franz-Josef, I looked in the mirror and didn't recognize myself.
"I could go on and on about how I turned my back on the Internet and became a hermit in search of himself, but the details are boring. Let's just say that I finally found my razor and, after a particularly close shave, had an epiphany. I'm back."