Notes
This is a place for thinking out loud, reflecting, and sharing ideas. Notes are a window into my process, thoughts, inspiration, and experiments. Explore visual gallery.
Notes
Dayton is an Art Director at a 25-person marketing agency. He's only a year in, but he loves his job. Great team, great clients. He's happy.
One day he happens to see a Slack message from a co-worker, Jessica, at 7:52 pm. He doesn't have much going on, so he responds. A few minutes later, Jessica writes back.
Now it's 9:43 pm... 11:57 pm... Dayton realizes that he hasn't eaten dinner yet, let alone shower, read... Midnight comes and goes. 12:31 am...
Now it's 1:27 am, six hours since his response to Jessica. "Okay, I agree. Any other ideas on how we could push it further?"
Dayton eats a bowl of corn flakes before his head hits the pillow. He grabs some mouthwash and thinks, I can brush my teeth tomorrow.
The sun comes up, and he is exhausted, staying in bed as long as possible, squeezing every bit of sleep out of the morning. He can still taste remnants of what used to be his favorite cereal. He brushes his teeth but skips the rest of his everyday morning ritual before jumping on Zoom for his 10 am.
By lunchtime, Dayon wonders how two hours could feel like two decades. Despite making it through the next two meetings, it's hard for Dayton to focus. He cancels the team meeting he'd been prepping for, afraid he won't be able to deliver as planned.
Dayton ends the day feeling bummed. He's supposed to meet a friend for dinner but can't imagine being social. He cancels that, too.
A week later, Dayton responds to another message. This time at 9:15 pm. The cycle repeats. He starts to question if this job is the right job for him. Dayton confides in his manager, Tamara.
Tamara asks Dayton about the reason for the urgent requests, confused why she wasn't aware. Dayton is silent, unable to answer.
The thing is that nothing was urgent. Just because you happen to see a message at 7:52 pm or 9:15 pm doesn't mean you have to respond.
Most things can wait until morning.
On Wednesday, February 24, I decided to start publishing here every Monday through Friday. I had all these ideas floating around in my head. I was looking for a way to explore them further and get feedback. I also wanted to continue strengthening my writing, and what better way to practice than getting reps in nearly every day?
What I've loved about the practice is that I never know where it will take me. I don't pre-plan topics. I have a Notion board of half-baked ideas, phrases, and stories. I add new ones whenever they come into focus - brushing my teeth, at the grocery store, out for a walk, doesn't matter.
When I sit down to write, I review the Notion hub of captured thoughts and dive into whichever resonates. If none do, I start from scratch. Some days, I end up piecing together fragments from my past. Other days, I write to spend more time with a topic or find clarity.
I named these daily writings "notes" to feel informal, almost like opening someone's notebook. Not precious. No pressure to get it perfect. A simple sentence or two, an 850-word story - whatever feels good. I give myself the evening to draft, edit, and publish. I'll admit, I've done the occasional morning edit while getting ready for the day, but it's rare.
This post marks 75 notes. There's no real milestone here, but the way I see it, that's 75 stories that I may have never told if I didn't embark on this project. Thoughts are fleeting, and if you don't capture them, who knows if you'll get another chance.
Every note includes a simple illustration. I wasn't sure if I was creating too much work for myself when I started, but I've enjoyed the play. It's also nice to keep my creative process in check. I take no more than 10-15 minutes to turn an often abstract concept into a vague visual idea, then quickly polish it into something worth sharing. It was never about the single illustrations, though. I was most excited to see what they would all look like together down the line. Here's all 75 so far:
It's cool to see how certain notes have resonated with friends, family, co-workers, peers, and strangers alike. Thanks to those who are following along.
Below are some of my favorite notes in common categories. Enjoy.
Management
Collaboration
Personal Growth
Company Culture / Agency Leadership
Stories
Okay, maybe there are dumb questions.
Questions asked because you were not paying attention.
Questions asked about topics your job requires you to know.
Questions asked because you are too lazy to look up the answer on your own.
But even then, are they really dumb?
Stupid is another word for dumb. Just as lovely as it is for you to read as it is to write, but it's true. The definition for stupid is having or showing a great lack of intelligence or common sense. I guess that means that a dumb question shows a lack of intelligence. But is that not the point of a question? To fill our gaps in knowledge, to be less dumb? Even if you should have listened, or you should know, the fact is, there's a gap.
Does that make all questions dumb questions?
As easy as it might be to give detailed instructions when reviewing an employee's work, I've learned to focus on the underlying concepts. Teaching concepts will always take more effort, but it's an investment. When the employee understand the concepts, they can apply them everywhere, feeling confident to own the work. When they merely follow instructions, they will always need them to keep going.
Try eating spaghetti without utensils. You can do it, but it will be messy and stressful.
There are tools and frameworks for every project. You don't need them to get the job done, but at the least, they'll keep the sauce off your hands and maybe even free you up to enjoy a glass of wine.
A couple of months ago, I caught up with a friend who has deep expertise doing branding and graphic design work for restaurants. I mentioned how shocked I was to see new restaurants popping up in my neighborhood last year while many were closing due to the pandemic and asked for her perspective.
She explained that restaurants don't pop up; there are months of planning, sometimes years, before opening their doors to the public. She went on to describe the typical restaurant development process. Of course, I thought, that makes sense, feeling a little silly for thinking otherwise.
It's okay to assume. Just assume there's more to the story, and you'll learn a whole lot more.
Today, we toast to 15 years.
It’s been a blast to spend the last 8 alongside these guys. I’m proud of how we’ve grown as a team and as individuals, but, most of all, I’m proud of our continued dedication to getting better every day and creating an agency that believes success starts with developing its people. Big thanks to our team, clients, friends, family, and alumni. We have come so far, but it feels like we’re just getting started! Happy 15, Barrel. Let’s do this.
To honor the occasion, we created a virtual trip back in time. Experience some of the websites that shaped who we are today: www.barrelny.com/15
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Always good to remember that we can make excuses to do or not do anything.
In 2015, my wife Dana and I ended our lease early, not by choice. Our apartment became infested with mice, and the landlord chose not to address the issue. Instead, informing us that we had until the end of our lease term to vacate.
We were new to Park Slope, Brooklyn, and fell in love with the area and our apartment. It was perfect. So perfect that we gave in and paid a fat broker fee to get it. To say this was a bummer is an understatement.
In the months that followed our landlord's notice, we tirelessly searched for an equivalent place to call home with the same rent. Brokers looked at us like we were crazy. They kindly suggested it was an impossible feat.
At one point, we were eating, sleeping, and breathing apartment listings. It was tough. Soon any time we came across a halfway decent apartment, Dana would look at me with this face that said, let's take this one. But as tired and beat down as we were, we didn't give in.
Weeks before our lease was up, Craiglist notified Dana about an apartment right down the street. Cheaper rent (stabilized!), backyard, garden box, what? Could this be it? We jumped on it.
Despite six other interested renters, we got the place. Funny enough, as we were signing the lease, we learned that our landlord went to school with Peter and Sei-Wook, Barrel's co-founders. Small world or fate? Who knows, but from then on, I had this renewed faith that the best things in life are possible; it just takes persistence, patience, and perseverance.
Years later, I got down on one knee at Brooklyn Botanic Garden, and Dana and I were engaged. After roughly three months, we came down off cloud nine and began wedding planning, then reality set in. My uncle-in-law, Father Fran, is a priest. For as long as my wife Dana can remember, she pictured him marrying her someday. The challenge was that Dana and I wanted to get married outside the church, a no-no for most Catholic dioceses.
Everyone kept telling me it was impossible, but I refused to accept that. I kept thinking of our sweet, brick-lined Park Slope apartment and the journey to finding it. In all of Fran's years as a priest, he had never seen or done what we were asking. I thought, hey, there's a first for everything.
After several phone calls and a letter to the chancellor, our wish came true. With hundreds of nearly identical weddings under his belt, Uncle Fran got a taste of something new, a non-church Catholic wedding ceremony. It was magical.
Since then, my belief and determination have only grown stronger, resisting the notion that anything is impossible, even if everyone around me is ready to give up. Among family, I often say, "If Fran can marry us outside the church, anything is possible."
If you believe something is impossible and you act like it, it will be. Once you decide that it's possible, the future is yours to create.
If there seems to be too much to do in too little time, it is time to slow down, especially when delegating work. When I have lost sight of this in the past, it has never felt good.
Acting under unnecessary pressure, I would default to giving quick tactical feedback, thinking that was what I needed to do to keep my team going. The trouble was that I did not stop to articulate a vision for myself or the team. So, if the team hit a bump in the road, there was no north star to guide them, resulting in rework, delays, and tension.
Picture a person walking around in a new city, they do not know where they are going, but they have a list of directions. All is well until they hit a road closure, and in an instant, all progress comes to a halt. If only they had a destination, maybe they could find their way.
Take the time to articulate your vision, especially when it feels like there is no time at all.
When I worked in an office, I used to carry a notebook around to take notes and sketch during meetings. Once I worked from home, I started taking notes on my computer, so I no longer needed a notebook. And so, no more doodles.
The other day, I grabbed a piece of paper to write down a phone number and ended up doodling on it throughout the day. I had forgotten how much it encouraged deep listening and focus for me.
Nowadays, it can be hard not to multi-task during Zoom calls with all your work right in front of you. To keep my hands occupied, I've been rotating between a hand grip strengthener and a fidget spinner from my younger brother, Justin. These have been helpful, but there's something about doodling that does the trick.
After an in-depth interview process, we recently extended an offer to an exciting candidate. Last night, I found out they decided to accept another offer. At first, it stung a little. I thought they would make a great addition to the team and play an integral part in our growth as an agency. Just yesterday morning, they seemed enthusiastic about what we could create together.
While they chose a different path, they shared how invigorating our conversations about the future were and wished they could "work for two companies at once." I'm still waiting for clarity on what led to their decision, but it felt good knowing that I put my best foot forward. I remembered past experiences where a situation like this would have left me feeling discouraged, but last night, I felt hopeful.
The truth is, this wasn't the first time this has happened, and it won't be the last. I've learned to accept that not everything can work out as planned, and anchoring our satisfaction on the win is a dark path to follow. Even if it feels like a done deal like it did with this candidate.
If you live for the win and you're not winning all the time, which is true of most humans, then you'd be living a pretty unhappy life. Winning isn't always what it's cracked up to be either. There's the bliss when it hits where it feels like you're floating, then moments later, you return to Earth and continue with the next steps.
You land a big project; then, you work on an approach to get it done with the new timeline. You hire an impressive new employee; then, you onboard them and start regular check-ins.
I'm not saying we shouldn't celebrate the wins, but we cannot control the game. So, it's not worth letting the outcome dictate your wellbeing. What we can control is how well we play.
Maybe it's cliché, but for me, it's about giving it your best shot. I aim to leave every outcome feeling like I've done everything in my power to get the best result. Then, win or lose, I take it as an opportunity to keep on raising the bar by learning why it went the way it did.
Even if the candidate did accept our offer, understanding why they did could help attract and land future candidates. In this case, they seemed excited, but in the end, something changed their mind. As I continue to interview candidates, it will be helpful to know if there's anything I can do better next time.
I look forward to hearing back from the candidate with more insight, but in the meantime, as the Barrel partners and I like to say, keep it going.
When a friend, family member, or colleague is looking for feedback or guidance, trade don't sweat the small stuff for curiosity. If something is weighing them down, turning a blind eye will not only be a challenge but can lead to future distress. The "small stuff" is often what matters most.
There are six steps I follow for every creative project. Sometimes, formally. Other times, I run through them in my mind or create quick sketches. Either way, if I try to cut corners, I always regret it later.
I liken the process to building a house.
- Imagine. Setting, location, architectural style, ambiance, inspiration.
- Specify. Rooms, bathrooms, storage, garage, etc.
- Plan. Blueprint! How it all fits together.
- Concept. Interior/exterior finishing options.
- Design. Lock in finishes. Finalize specs.
- Build.
It's not too different from building a website.
- Imagine. Experience, ambiance, inspiration.
- Specify. Number of pages, features, content types.
- Plan. Wireframes! How it all fits together.
- Concept. Look and feel options.
- Design. Lock in look and feel. Finalize specs.
- Build.
Whether it's houses, websites, or something else, once you master the steps, even the most complicated projects can feel within reach.
Disagreements can be frustrating. If I ever feel this way, I think about what it would be like if we agreed with each other all the time.
We would never see new points of view.
We would never improve our approach.
We would never get better.
Life would be stagnant. Not a life that I want to live.