The Essential

My thesis dissertation -- the end result of a topsy turvy two years of my design school experiment, beset by uncertainty, joy, exhausting anxiety, and ultimately a stretching of the mind and spirit far beyond what I expected -- is coming to fruition. 

I have chosen to study the psychology of consumerism (a possible clue that the last two years should have been spent studying psychology rather than design, but c'est la vie). This is not a new subject, and has been studied rapaciously by marketers and advertisers for decades, to the specific and lucrative benefit of large corporations.

Unfortunately, this urge to consume, latent in our genes but awakened and nourished by corporate advertising, has grown to monstrous proportions. Evolution has designed us for scarcity and we do surprisingly poorly in times of excess. We eat and laze ourselves into disease and extra pounds. Through affluence comes independence and we distance ourselves from the nurturing comfort of communities and thoughtlessly consume in a manner that is destroying our very own habitat while doing tremendous damage to our mental health.

One culprit is a culture of work that leaves us exhausted and craving convenience and a Netflix binge on the couch (and here I point a finger right back at myself -- guilty as charged). The other is a profusion of choice, leading to what many psychologists call "decision fatigue." Left to our own devices, we often default to the choices others have made for us, the ones that are easy, socially acceptable, and give us instant gratification. 

I have been searching for a solution to these problems for the last 18 months. I have read the works of psychologists, the wisdom of the elders, and everyday Joes (and Josephines) who experimented with different ways of life. I have even experimented a little myself. 

I have come to a few conclusions, though the subject matter is so complex and immense that I'm sure it's just a small piece of the puzzle. The good news is that we can begin to heal ourselves and our planet at the same time. Work less. Play more. Consume (mostly) only the essentials for long-lasting happiness. Spend time outdoors, the kind with trees and rocks and dirt. Get exercise. Love your neighbours. Appreciate sunsets. Practice gratitude. The answers are simple.

The hard part is breaking out of the routine, refusing to accept the default status quo, and choosing the essential. 

The Little Prince said it best: "Voici mon secret. Il est tres simple: on ne voit pas bien qu'avec le coeur. L'essentiel est invisible pour les yeux."

"Here is my secret. It is very simple. What is essential cannot be seen with your eyes, only with your heart."

My Thanksgiving Manifesto

Today is Thanksgiving Day.  Probably one of my favourite holidays.  Great food made to be shared with the people you love most in a spirit of gratitude.

One of the things I love most about India is that you have to work a little harder during the holidays to make it special.  Food items here are not commoditised and merchandised so that they practically fall into your shopping cart, particularly not ones specific to an American holiday.

You want pumpkin for that pumpkin pie?  Forget the can of Libby's and evaporated milk.  Buy a whole pumpkin, cook it, grab some normal milk and hope for the best.  You want cranberry sauce?  No chance of the tinned stuff here either.  And also no actual cranberries.  You reduce a box of cranberry juice with some dried cranberries and hope for the best.

Our Thanksgiving meal will be healthy, heartwarming, made with love and shared with good friends (my urban family).  We will eat a lot, we will drink Manhattans, and we will most certainly speak about the things we are most thankful for in life.  I haven't spoken yet to anyone who is coming to dinner tonight.  But I highly doubt that very high on anyone's list will be something that can be bought in a store.

As an American, the most jarring transition between two calendar days for me is the one between Thanksgiving and the day following.  On one, we spend the day with people we love, learning new recipes, eating good food, enjoying the ritual of communion, unity, and gratitude that comes along with the holiday.  Of course there is gluttony, overindulgence, and the occasional political 'discussion' with a mad uncle, but the essence of the holiday is still family.  The day following, so many of us promptly forget all that cultivated thankfulness and gleefully participate in the the unabashed, unbridled consumer hysteria that is Black Friday.

As someone who has been studying our relationship to "things" and the happiness they bring us (or more accurately, the lasting happiness we think they will bring us that they do not), I feel a little more qualified than the average Joe to say this:

Step away from the credit card.  Ignore the impulse to join the heaving, angry, hoard at your local toy/clothing/home goods/electronics retailer.  You think these "things" will bring you pleasure.  It will not last.

Instead, practice your day Thanksgiving Day mantra.  "I am thankful for my family and friends.  I am thankful for good food.  I am thankful for the opportunities life throws at me and the ability to overcome challenges."  Now go enjoy your day off playing football in the backyard.  Or completing that DIY project that has been sitting unfinished for months.  Or repairing something.  Take a long walk in a forest.

Or watch this film the climbing and outdoor retailer Patagonia has released: "This short film from Patagonia follows people who have kept their gear for a really, really long time.  Its a celebration of stuff you already own, a reminder to tone down your consumerism."

100 Objects Research: British Museum

In my last weekend living in London, I decided to visit the source of my inspiration -- the British Museum, to get a better look at the objects which inspired A History of the World in 100 Objects. There is so much to see, I couldn't possibly get through all 100, but I did manage to see quite a handful. Photos are below, along with links to descriptions. This was first time in a museum with a pure purpose--I was studying, not just glancing at old things for general edification. I wanted to get a better understanding of what objects were valued through the ages.

The highlight of my day wasn't any of the 100 objects in the history however. In my wandering a I came upon a "Hands On" pop-up, catering mostly to children, who are constantly told "don't touch." One if the curators was there describing three objects she had in the table, and letting the children hold each of them in turn.

"Hands On" pop up at the British  Museum

I narrowed in on one in particular -- what appeared to be a teardrop shaped stone was actually a hand axe, formed by human hands in the Neolithic Period (at the end of the Stone Age), used for cutting down bushes and small trees, just at the dawn of agricultural. It is approximately 6,500 years old.

Handaxe from the modern day Lake District in the UK, 4500BCE

I patiently waited my turn, in line with children 10 and under, and held a piece of history, an object no doubt cherished and well-used, possibly even handed down through generations. Certainly on that particular Neolithic man (or woman's) list of most valued objects.

History in the palm of my hand

Also seen at the British Museum:

The Rosetta Stone

Head of the Horse of Selene from the Parthenon

Hoa Hakananai'a Easter Island statue

Aztec double headed serpent

Statue of Tara

The David Vases

The Standard of Ur

The Lewis Chessmen

Angry Banana Hits the Media!

The Angry Banana design collective is a group created during the last term to work on a "live" project with LG.  Yesterday, we got our first media publication!

Stone Conceptual Kitchen Appliances by Angry Banana

Our project uses induction technology to operate kitchen appliances in a new and interesting way.  Because of the unique properties of induction heating paired with an innovative design, these appliances, even the saucepan, can be taken straight from the stove to the table without creating melt or burn marks.

The lack of any electrical components also means that these appliances, made from porcelain, birch, and stainless steel, can be cleaned under running water and are even dishwasher safe.  Because of their unique design, we hope they will last a generation, rather than the usual 5-7 year lifespan of most kitchen appliances.

The product line on the induction stovetop

Toaster

Saucepan

Grill pan + adapter

Induction stove interface

The Stone product line

For the first five weeks we worked on researching kitchen practices and forming our own program for the project focusing on the user's own innovation, creativity, and changing kitchen practices.  Our research was compiled in a video:

Angry Banana collective includes: Jack Holloway (Product Design), Donato Santoro (Product Design), Vina Kosasih (Communication Design), Jo Chang (Communication Design), Yelena Bushueva (Communication Design), Sara Lynn Pesek (Environmental Design).

100 Objects

I've been drifting through the design field for the better part of six months now, trying hard to learn new skills and find an area where I can get traction. I've worked with the concepts of micro homes, sustainability tool kits, and rainwater harvesting for low-income areas of Mumbai, but hadn't really hit on anything that resonated until this term.

Consumption. Consumerism. Waste. These are the challenges that our generation faces. You want to tackle energy? The first step is reduction, efficiency. You want to tackle all that waste floating in the ocean? The first step is to reduce what we throw away. You want to tackle financial systems built on over-leverage and excessive debt? The first step is cutting back on things we don't really need.

In this spirit, I have constructed my Design Research project this term called 100 Objects: Tracing Materiality and Motivations through a Person's Possessions. Finally! A post that does justice to the title of this blog.

I have asked several people to list the 100 objects that are most important to them. The results have been fascinating.

Rainy day distractions

Art and Democracy

On bad days, I feel like an alien invader struggling to understand local language and customs, whose ideas (meant for good) are met with biting criticism and contempt.

Luckily, today is not a bad day.  As I struggled through a piece by Chantal Mouffe called Art and Democracy: Art as an Agonistic Intervention in Public Space, I found myself rapidly developing a series of tabs in my browser window that made clear what a novice design researcher I am:   "hegemony," "dissensus," "Krzysztof Wodiczko" and wondered over phrases like "sedimented social practices," I also started to grasp something of what the author was saying and better, started to take joy in the not knowing, let my know-it-all facade fall, because that is where real learning begins.

Design is not a science

I am nearly one month into my MA Design course and I would struggle to describe the whole range of emotions that have washed over me. Firstly, I am energised by working in such a dynamic field and nearly daily find how this path of study has brought together ideas and inspiration from my past that, at the time, I didn't even realise was design-related. The title of this blog, for instance, was something that struck me even though I wasn't quite sure how to carry it out. Spending my days now researching people who drastically downsize their lives to live in very small spaces, it has become much clearer.

However, I struggle on a daily basis with the subjectivity of it all. For all its drawbacks as a career for me, in finance, at least for the most part, you knew when you had the right answer. The financial statements balanced, the investment was returned, or at the very least, your business pitch had that certain little something you were sure would catch the eye of your audience.

In design, I have been thrust into a world of subjectivity and have not quite yet learned the metrics of evaluation. What makes a good design good? It turns out it is not as simple as sitting down with a sketchbook and pencil and a bright idea. Good design is researched, studied, mulled, marinated, and shaped, and even then may not take the familiar form of a product ready for market. To paraphrase Bruce Sterling, good design is increasingly about the interactions between objects and people in a complex and dynamic world of low attention spans and high opportunity costs. In short, design is not a science, it is an art.

Dreaming

A friend recently reminded me that putting voice to your dreams often helps them along their path to fruition.

I have many dreams right now -- working with a kick ass design firm, designing something that improves lives, running a marathon, spending a month in reflective silence trekking and meditating my way through the Himalayan forests.

But my dream today is climbing Mt Rainier.

I visited the Pacific Northwest for the first time over the summer, and in my new quest for taking on physical challenges, became smitten with the idea of tackling the snowy peak.  What sealed the deal was a special fly-by in the plane from Seattle to Salt Lake City.  High in the air, but below the level of the summit, it felt like I could reach out and touch the mountain.

And with views like this, who can blame me?

Just like riding a bike

I am starting my new chapter in London, and in many ways, the title of this blog is even more relevant these days than when it first started.

More on my new chapter in the coming days.  Today, I just wanted to brag that I finally rode the Barclay Bikes (aka Boris Bikes) through London.  These will definitely be my new favourite way to get from place to place quickly, barring inclement weather (of which we seem to get in spades in this city...)

It was a little wobbly at first, but just starting out (again), really is just like riding a bike.

Art Imitates LIfe

Morning inspiration.  All running on less power than it takes to run my laptop.  Love.

Via con Dios, Caballo

The world just got a little bit poorer.

Caballo Blanco, true embracer of the simple life, ultrarunner extraordinaire was found dead on a trail in New Mexico after a four-day search.

Caballo was an inspiration to many, myself included. He did what he loved every day, he discovered a simple way of living the good life, and even as he rose to be a well-known figure in running circles, he was low-key to the point of near invisibility.

I had the pleasure of running with a good friend of his a few months ago, Barefoot Ted. Runners like these are the antithesis of the stressed, rushed, and frantic lives many of us lead. Maybe it's all the dopamine from so many miles and miles logged, but Ted, and Caballo from what I've heard, have cracked the code to happiness.

I can't help but wonder if Caballo had some kind of foresight about his fate last Tuesday morning. He had breakfast, he left his dog as the Wilderness Lodge with his friends, and he did what he loved most, he ran out into the wilderness.

"When I get too old to work, I'll do what Geronimo would've if they'd left him alone," Caballo said. "I'll walk off into the deep canyons and find a quiet place to lie down." There was no melodrama or self-pity in the way Caballo said this, just the understanding that someday, the life he'd chosen would require one last disappearing act. -Born to Run

And disappear you did.  You're running with the ancestors now, and I'd bet good money you're smoking them all.  

Art (design) imitates life OR Biomimicry

Have you seen the new TV series called Touch?  It's a great show about the interconnectedness of the universe.  I highly recommend it.

However, this post isn't about the series, just the opening credits.  I can't figure out how to embed them, but you can watch them on vimeo here.

The credits showcase some pretty stunning examples of awesome design in nature, and a few of how we as humans have manipulated our environment through art and architecture to imitate this design.  It's called "biomimicry," and I'm fascinated!

Reduction is relative

So... my efforts to simplify my re-entry into American culture have led me to... Bombay?

No kidding.  After three months of Walden, I've moved back to India, this time temporarily, to help my parents get settled into a new life.  It was hard enough to make the decision to leave the first time, and the tides of fate have just pulled me right back into my adoptive home.  You can't make this stuff up

Though the country is the same, there are a lot of differences this time around.  For one, despite my efforts to simplify my life, I am now living in a 8,000 square foot super posh flat overlooking the heart of what I affectionately call Bombay's West Village.  I also come with renewed purpose in life.  I have started my Masters in Sustainable Design (two courses taken online, but it's a start), and I'm working with the Indian School of Business on a solar policy research project that I helped them design last year.

The refrain keeps beating in my head... "simplify, simplify, simplify" but it seems at odds with my current surroundings.  On Friday I met Mukesh Ambani, the world's 9th richest man.  His idea of a simple family home is Antilla, the world's most expensive single family home, clocking in at a mere $2 billion.  

At least that makes our 8,000 sqft home look humble by comparison!

The Hand of God

I was very lucky to go to school in New York, and even luckier to be brought up to enjoy art and culture.  As a junior undergrad, I visited the Metropolitan Museum of Art and discoverd Rodin's "The Hand of God."

I fell in love.  For the second time in as many months.



I can't explain why this sculpture moved me, and it seems incomplete to have only one view, because this scupture is meant to be seen from all sides.  The two lovers are gently held in the palm of a hand.  In one swoop it confirmed my beliefs about God, sex, and French sculpture.

Then, this week, from Slate's Political Gabfest, I heard about BBC 4's "A History of the World in 100 Objects" from the British Museum.

And I found this -- the Ain Sakhri figure, found in Khareitoun, modern day Sudan, in 9000 BC. 

 

It was then that I realized, that it wasn't the cultural anthropomological aspects that I was tuned into at the Met.  It was the same instincts that have ruled and propegated civilization since the beginning of time :)

But please check out the British Museum's Podcast

And Rodin's statuary -- he did "The Thinker," too.