theology&geometry

I’m working on something cool and fun — so fun that it’s nearly 4 a.m. and I kind of hate to put it to bed for the evening but I have to get some sleep. I’ve got big hopes and big fears about this. I’m not sure where any of this will end up but I suppose it’s good practice regardless of where we land. What an adult thing to say, huh? We’re busting ass to make things happen — cool things, interesting things — but there always seems to be a bit of whiplash when we are confronted with the rift between what we want to do — which is always beautifully structured because I work with some amazing people — and what is actually feasible given the amount of time and the depth of resources we are actually granted to make these cool things happen. I’m a creative person who loves busting my ass to make cool stuff. Doing so is, I’ve found, pretty much the only path I have to actual eudaimonia. But I hate busting ass just to find out that my wish list was truly a pipe dream all along. Pouring my heart into something only to watch it come out mediocre time and time again is one quick way to snuff that essential spark from the inside out. But then again, that’s how a person gains a measure of strength, isn’t it?

I’m getting ahead of myself.

We’re aiming high here.

I’m starting a little something new at The Memphis Blog. Let’s see if it catches on.

Screencapped from the comments of this story. You didn’t click, did you? What if I said it was a story about a BDSM-fetish B&B in Collierville? Clickadoodledoooo!

Anyway, I’m sure Hillybob looks forward to the days when news outlets will be capable of reporting on every fucking mundane thing in the world AS IT IS HAPPENING.

Trying to decide which — if any — pages to send to competitions.

[Project 365]

Wrestling at work with some quite frustrating QR code integration issues (and getting steamrolled by the marketing department’s demands in the process). Was shown this by a co-worker who recounted for me the great CueCat debacle of the ’90s and ’00s. Because people apparently thought having a dedicated barcode scanner was somehow a greater convenience than simply typing in a URL. People are weird. And stupid, I meant to say stupid.

Also, is anyone else reminded of Japanese-designed sex toys by looking at this thing?

[Project 365]

Don’t mind me, I’m just clicking and dragging and portfolioing.

Shelby Farms: Urban oasis
A story about the growth and change Shelby Farms is experiencing, accompanied by stunning photos.

Check out the story here, as well as Jim Weber’s beautiful photo gallery.

In the shadows
A follow-up to the shocking CA story about civil rights photographer Ernest Withers’ secret life as a FBI informant.

Check out part two of the Withers saga here.

You know how when you’ve been sick and barfing for a couple of days, and you’ve gotten all the badness out of your system and you think you’re on the mend and ready to try to eat again, and you very gingerly eat some chicken noodle soup with Sprite to drink or something, to see if you can keep food down at all?

That is sort of what it feels like to be back in the office.

Seems like every time I sit down to write lately, nothing comes out, and the only stuff that bubbles up in my head is bad, very bad.

Work is a nightmare lately. I come home every night feeling completely deflated and exhausted. I take a few minutes to myself beside the closet or in the bathroom to sob my helpless little stress sobs but I suck it up quick before the other half notices what I’m doing. Tonight I was so fucking busy and frazzled that at one point my brain seized up and I thought I was having an aneurysm. And when I realized I wasn’t, I got a little annoyed because a deadly aneurysm would have solved all my problems. And I came home and noticed that my nose was bleeding, and I was all FINALLY, RELIEF. That is not a healthy thought to have, but I am so unbelievably burned out that there are nothing but apocalyptic scorched-earth visions in my head. I feel like a hamster who’s tasked with powering an oxygen machine but who is also expected to solve complex and very, very stupid personnel conflicts and figure out scheduling issues while running at top speed to keep humanity alive, and then some asshole just keeps throwing dirty socks at me, one sock after the other, some with really stupid grammatical errors printed on them, until I am trying to run on my little wheel under a heap of smelly-ass, questionably worded socks. I guess I can’t really get it all out here, which is a real bummer, because so much of my ongoing shit mood (and my God what a shit mood I’ve been in for a month now … okay maybe two months) is tied up in my work situation and oh how I would love to vent to you, dear internet, just to get it out of me, just to let there be a bloodletting, just to indiscriminately distribute the suckage like so many little bits and pieces of subprime mortgages. But I don’t have the energy to deal with the repercussions (although it turned out OK for Dooce, holy shit) and instead will click absentmindedly through job listings on the internet and wince when that meager beam of hope that had shined within me gets snuffed out entirely.

Oh wait, there it goes. Hurf durf.

But seriously. I can write, edit, take pictures, blog, make pretty layouts, work on deadline, work alone, work on teams, multitask, talk like a pretentious fuck about typography and white space, make semi-funny jokes about … all sorts of stuff. I could be an asset. I do not want to be 29 years old and in a career rut, working nights and weekends for the rest of my miserable life, having to take a vacation day if I ever want to do something mundane (like go to a movie or see a concert or have dinner with a friend) on a Saturday, constantly battling against the Powers That Be to have my pragmatic voice heard and respected when I care enough about an issue to speak up. Shit rolls downhill and lately I am working at the bottom of a hill and I am drowning in shit.

Something’s gotta give.

Fairly sure it will be me.

Yesterday I received a thanks-for-five-years-of-service award from my company. (I will have been there six years at the end of January.)

I was unable to either go pick up the award or attend the ceremony because, thanks to our post-several-rounds-of-layoffs skeleton crew, I was insanely busy all night.

The CA, for a few months now, has been receiving letters from self-identified jihadist Abdulhakim Mujahid Muhammad as he spends time in prison for his part in the death of one soldier and the injury of another at a military recruiting center in Little Rock. This past Sunday, we printed some excerpts of those letters, in which Muhammad describes his purpose and what he sees as an all-out war on Uncle Sam by those Muslims who have been called to fight. It’s interesting and pretty terrifying stuff. I figure most of all, it’s just sad to see someone give himself over to violence with such fervor and sense of moral duty. I don’t get it.

Read the story and take a look at his writings here. Here’s how the spread looked in the paper:

In other design news, I found out late last week that I won a Scripps third-quarter design award for the work I did on the Ernest Withers special section. Awesome! That brings me to three Scripps quarterly awards. It’s nice to know that the company is paying attention to how the paper looks, and giving our team some kudos!