Writing has always been an outlet for me to organize and express my ideas. Below are a few blog posts I’ve written over the years.

For a few more, feel free to visit my aquacado blog

Functional Art

I didn’t frequent museums as a kid and I’ve never had a real affinity for theater. As an adult I can appreciate the time, effort, and dedication that goes into mastering any craft, but from a pure output perspective, I've never loved fine art.  

What I do love is functional art. The beauty of well-designed products that blur the line between form and function really resonates with me. A surfboard, a bike, an athletic shoe: all of these are art in motion - art with purpose.  Art that requires user input and user effort.

From a purely financial perspective, I guess it's fair to say that the art I like depreciates. In all but a few rare cases, the dollar value of these items decreases over time, especially as they're used. Directly contrasting this concept is the ever-increasing intangible value of the moments spent enjoying life because of these things. The memories, the anticipation - all of the emotions produced by just a quick glance at the item, even as it lays idle, are worth far more than any diminishing resale value.

Guac Box is functional art. It was designed with beautiful lines and proportions, and each piece works together to serve one practical purpose- simplify the art of guacamole. 

Simplify

I moved a few months ago. The moving process is never fun and this was no exception. The unpacking process is equally burdensome, and for this reason I never felt the need to fully unpack.

I’ve had boxes of clothes in my room that have sat untouched since they were dropped there in February. I successfully ignored them for a while, but recently they’ve made me think.

What do items in my life really provide? I concluded that every item I own should make my life better in some way. If anything isn’t contributing, I shouldn’t feel a need to keep it. An easy concept in theory, but a difficult one in practice.

Coincidentally, I recently found a great Outside Magazine article titled “The Secret to Happiness? Simplify.” The author of the article goes to great lengths discussing the concept of “purging” while also providing some anecdotes from his own life.

One such anecdote that really resonated with me was the discussion of buying an armoire. The stress of owning something that couldn’t fit in his roof-mounted carrier really weighed the author down. Reading this, I felt an almost identical emotion. For me it’s about having the ability to fit all of my possessions in or on my car. Just the idea of that freedom, whether I intend to use it or not, is liberating.

I recently decided to sort through those boxes and ended up donating most of the items to a local clothing drive. I’m trying my best to take a proactive approach to evaluating the items in my life that used to fly under the radar. It takes consistency and commitment, but I’m starting to feel better about my progress.

In the ever-wise words of Yvon Chouinard, founder of Patagonia, “The hardest thing in the world is to simplify your life because everything pushes you to be more and more complex.” It’s easy to let things pile up. It’s physically and emotionally difficult to purge. Ultimately, less clutter allows more room for important things like intangibles. And I live for intangibles, not items.

Intangibles

Another May is upon us and with it comes another class of college graduates. College can be both academically and socially challenging, but it’s a challenge that can’t be compared to that of working life.

Most grads will transition from a creatively stimulating and supportive academic environment to an endlessly routine and stifling office setting. Many will trade fresh ideas and an open-minded student body for unproductive corporate bureaucracy and red tape.  Acronyms will become more prevalent than ever as corporate speak replaces common language. Physical activity will become a difficult and coveted time of the morning or night, and schedule flexibility will no longer exist.

I know I don’t paint the rosiest picture of the post-grad transition, but I don’t think I’m alone in experiencing these lifestyle changes. My college life was so drastically different than the first few years of my professional life that I often question the value of a college experience. I then catch myself because I’ve fallen into a trap – the trap of corporate culture, where everything is measured, analyzed, and given a price tag.

Some things can’t be valued in a traditional way. Some experiences don’t have an ROI or KPIs to track. Even as someone who spends the vast majority of office time figuring out how to value companies, I’ve made peace with the idea that not everything in life has a monetary worth.

Sure, you can calculate an average value of a degree based on future earnings potential, but I don’t think this is a fair methodology. Life, especially college life, is full of small intangibles that truly can’t be valued.

Occasionally, I discuss this topic with coworkers. Many did not have a similar college experience and can’t relate to the fondness I have for my college years. I’ve been unable to convince them that my degree is far more than an overpriced ticket to my cube. I’m okay with it though. I see the intangibles, I recognize the intangibles, and I’ll always pursue the intangibles. Because that’s what I really love in life and that’s where I find meaning.