sarah jaeckel Oh, my appreciated audience, I guess we all know situations like this:
something small and unexpected happens, just at the fringes of our perception.
A bang somewhere, a faint smell, somebody calling your name but not meaning you.
Suddenly our brains start to take an extra shift and surprises us with beauty from inside.
Our own beauty.
Yesterday I had one of those precious moments.
Month-long thoughts and development-process just found its apex in words suddenly flowing without thinking. All my way through this crazy year condensed in three lines on the screen.
I was stunned and it made me happy and calm.
Thank you, Marc
Social job platforms like LinkedIn and Xing are not my favourite places for communication. And certainly not sources for enlightenment. But they are indeed a good way to stay in contact with old friends who left Facebook for good.
Like my old friend Marc.
We were quite close for a while during the techno years in Munich. He taught me without teaching. A big part of my understanding of graphic design and communication is based on his outstanding abilities not only to design but to explain. His way to shape ideas into forms and break down messages from abstract to real always impressed me – and shaped me and my work.
Times were changing, he moved to L.A., I stayed in Munich. But as both of us were early birds with all things online, we always kept a thin wire between us.
Yesterday I got a LinkedIn message from him, obviously directed to many of his contacts.
Asking for a quote that keeps us going through these weird times of pandemic lockdowns, to conquer the fear.
My first impression was: oh my god, a chain letter.
My second was: but it’s from Marc, so I better think about it, he just don’t send out junk.
Quotes? Well …
I’m not a massive fan of quotes. Most are overstretched, taken out of context. Some are altered to an extent the author would not even recognize them as their own words. And some are just meaningless sugar coating for kitsch postcards.
To work for me, a quote has to project a picture in my head, tell me a story, give me context.
So I’m much more a fan of opening lines – these few words which are able to drag me down into the rabbit hole of a book, suck me into the phantasy of the author, these lines which open a world.
My quote? Well, I’m with William Gibson.
The sky above the port was the color of television, tuned to a dead channel.
William Gibson
Why? Well, it feels a lot like we finally reached the dystopian apocalypse of unleashed capitalism cyberpunk predicted for the 2020s… a dystopia which was never meant to happen, at least by the authors. But as dystopian as it seems, I see the magic and poetry within it, the chance of fundamental chances and a brighter future. And hey, we’re going back to the Moon, Artemis will fly, we’re going to Mars and maybe beyond in our lifetime. Call me an old techno evangelist, but I still believe in some of these magic words like love, peace, and unity. So the image of a television tuned to a dead channel keeps me going.
And so my thoughts culminated
I learned a lot this year, much more than in maybe five years before.
A lot about virus’ and statistics I easily could miss.
A lot about people and their ways, thoughts, and changes into Q-omplete madness.
But most of all I learned about myself.
And that’s what flowed out in this special moment I answered Marc.
I learned this year that
everything I see is my canvas,
I’m the painter of my view,
the creator of my content,
the narrator of my dreams.And so I do.
Sarah Jaeckel
He wrote back “Baby, this is beautiful …”
I love this guy.
If you want to know more about Marc Posch:
https://opuscreativegroup.com/
He’s worth a closer look.