Artefact 231
Slight Return
Well, I didn't think I'd ever start a newsletter with a reference to The Bluetones, but there you go. Anyway, welcome back, it's been seven months since the last newsletter, and this one is fittingly about returns...
Return to work
I've been in London three times in the last two weeks. Which is probably as often as I was there in the whole year prior to that, for obvious reasons.
One of the primary observations on being back is how the most vital piece of office technology continues to be the A4 laminator:
Even during The Before, the A4 laminator was every company's quick fix to solve the problems which architects and interior designers hadn't bothered to get around to sorting out before they left. Yet now, the laminator is really hitting its stride; in every corner and corridor of an office block can be found a group of people wondering how they are meant to behave now that reality is different.
Don't worry people, this shiny A4 sheet is here to take away the doubt. And fear not, it's wipe-clean too.
However...
People, being people, seemingly get bored of them as they just blend into the background.
In the week that passed between visits to a particular client's office block, it was as if the A4 sheets were old hat. They'd stopped being rules, and slipped to being mere suggestions. Things to do if you remember, if you can be bothered.
If this A4 laminated sheet were serious, they'd have made a proper sign, surely?
At best, they are temporary scene-setters – this is new information, better pay attention – and perhaps have some natural half-life of effectiveness. It relates to something else I was in London for recently; a reconvening of the Thompson Harrison faculty at Makerversity to discuss the outcomes and outlooks of a recent project we'd been brought together for.
(I wrote about the Smithery contribution to the Thompson Harrison project - designing a Commonplace Book to string all the activities together - over here - Making The Most of Moments That Matter.)
Rather than see the transitory nature of the A4 sheet as a limitation, why not lean into it – and similar mechanics – for what it signifies about the present?
What is important about this space TODAY? Or THIS WEEK? What makes your presence here unique and special, and what will you be a part of? Instead of laminating these for longevity, perhaps one viable experiment to run in the 'workplace of the near future' is to make more use of notices as if they were newspaper headline boards... relevant today, replaced tomorrow.
Returning home
We hosted the Thompson Harrison faculty group at Makerversity, but I've not returned to working from a full-time desk there as I had before.
I'll continue to be a member, as of all the places in London we've been based in the last ten years, it's the one that feels most like home, and the facilities and community are great. But when clients, contacts and friends themselves aren't returning to the city full-time, the need for a permanent presence – to be on-hand for an off-chance meet-up – has largely disappeared.
Calendars are the new meeting rooms, as you strive to find a box you both can squeeze into.
In the short to medium term at least, perhaps the model for many businesses will be to make excellent use of temporary space when and where appropriate.
That has all sorts of implications for a city (economic, social, technological, environmental and so on...), and I might reflect on more of those at a later date. But I've spent more time of late thinking about the home office, and the impact it has on work, connections, productivity, stimulation and more. How do you set up a home office to make similarly excellent use of your permanent personal space?
[I even dug out a video I made for the 2008 IPA Excellence Diploma called 'Build a Place Fit For Creativity', though it was full of recommendations for going interesting places and seeing interesting things... come on, past-me, read the room.]
Firstly, I replanned the layout of the home office, so that the two main areas of work (the digital and the physical desks) are opposite each other and easily accessible. This is a trick I stole years ago from Austin Kleon.
I find that this allows for better mode switching, and becomes an instant invitation to avoid falling into the screen all day long. Otherwise I could quite easily lose all my time inside the endless unfolding digital layers, sitting at one desk all day. Combined with a reading chair in the corner, it means that the space has become as flexible as I can probably make it. There's also more storage space for books, the Artefact Cards library, and other materials.
Now, for long time fans of the niche Smithery home office blogs this does mean that I had to move out the original John Madin desk rescued six years ago from the demolition of Birmingham Library. If anyone's interested in being the next custodian of it, I may be open to selling it.
What I've noticed most through this process is what a useful opportunity it is in terms of physical scene-setting – setting up an environment where you can trip up your future-self with ideas and perspectives is a useful thing – which is hard to do when all your work is hidden away digitally.
For instance, I'm continuing the TENETS project in spare moments, with the central idea that Information is Light, Not Liquid. So scattered through the office in various places, are things to think with – a variety of items which can be picked up and played with, in order to just think through various aspects of that thesis. Also, when the sun shines at particular moments, there are various objects and prisms which start to cascade different light through the space.
Additionally, I've a couple of boards around with Artefact Cards on magnetic bulldog clips, and various other bits and bobs I use (knowingly and unknowingly) to set the scene for work.
Whilst I'm not proposing that everyone has to think in this way in order to do their best work, I certainly think there's significant value in place-making as an individual, and more importantly as part of a team in a shared space.
This sort of physicality is something some teams will innately recognise, but no-doubt many facilities teams will be reluctant to indulge. It is initially a struggle to see how you can make it work in a world of Extreme Hot-Desking (a new Olympic discipline, no doubt).
I idly wondered what a form of Team Tetris would look like, where a certain group of people could drop their space requirements onto an office map, and slot in to give themselves a home for a required period. Then they could set it up and dress it as they saw fit, and the facilities team could work around those blocks to serve short-term needs.
Then afterwards it can be deconstructed and packed away, for reuse by the original team or even another team. At its most creative, it could feel slightly like staging a play, perhaps; imagine the office as a playhouse, with a variety of elements you can bring out from background scenery to costumes and props.
Most of work is arguably make-believe anyway, so why not go the whole hog and dress the space for it?
Many happy returns
Smithery turned ten last year, and as is our want, we made a thing.
Of course, it's just a keyring. Or is it?. That video will tell you more...
Return to sender
It's been a strange old time for Artefact Cards, what with a retreat from working together in spaces, the disappearance of retail, the shipping impacts of Brexit and so on. It has also been interesting to follow people who use Artefact Cards as a solo-pursuit, though - a way of 'unpacking their brains onto the table' as Tim once said. But there has been an uptick in sales since Christmas, which may be a signal that the tentative return to workplaces and workshopping is happening.
Practically speaking, there's a glimmer of good news on the European shipping front - we've put in place a DHL shipping option which should help with some of the shipping issues, so we're confident enough to open up shipping to the EU again. Though, inevitably, it costs more.
Something really positive that has happened is the online Cardstock community, which has developed nicely into a regular space for thoughtful practitioners of anything to do with cards (real or metaphorical, playful or workful).
I'm looking forward to seeing the manifestations of the emergent collaborations in this space. Makers gonna make, and all that. Join us, if you like, every month on the fourth Friday at 4pm.
Return on investment
Nearly a year ago, I said this in a previous edition of the newsletter...
"I'm seemingly primed to notice any article on Non-Fungible Tokens (NFTs) in the past week or so... (That's how an economics degree breaks you some 20+ years later... it never lets you go.) Again, this could be an essay in its own right, but in short, here's how I'm thinking about them..."
UPDATE: It probably could seventeen essays by now, if not a book. But I'm not going to write either, of course, but instead continue reading, watching (often peeking through fingers as the car-crash unfolds).
As a starting point for the uninitiated, though, please invest your time in Dan Olson's Line Goes Up – two-hours-plus of explanation on the connection between NFTs, Crypto, and the vague hand-waving that is 'Web3'. It will give you a full overview of the problem in the space, and a good critical thinking lens with which to study these 'futures' as presented.
From the library
I seem to be collecting books about maps again. I was particularly excited about Terra Forma - A Book of Speculative Maps by Frédérique Aït-Touati, Alexandra Arènes and Axelle Grégoire.
It arrived this week, and in a quick scan I picked up on this from the forward by Bruno Latour. This quote really resonated, because I can't count the number of times I've been drawing on cards with clients and friends and reached a breakthrough, only to realise the only way to tell others is to draw it again from scratch...
That's all for today. Welcome back, wherever that is.
John V Willshire
8th February 2022