I started hand lettering about a year and half ago, and I thought it would be fun to see the progress I’ve made by comparing my early, crappy work to my recent work. I started hand lettering because a coworker of mine is a great letterer and I was inspired by the drawings he would make. I tried a few of his pens and found that trying to recreate the words he drew forced me to focus on the shape of the letter and the movement of the pen, which was intoxicating and meditative. So I bought a few pens and started practicing. Here’s the progress I’ve made so far.
A bunch of shitty G’s. Poor control of the pen; poor letter shapes.
Goldsmiths. Better pen control and shapes, but still pretty bad.
A lot of really inconsistent and shaky “a’s” and “n’s”.
Happy Holidays. Better, but still some pretty poor loops and letter spacing.
Some really shitty looking M’s.
Much cleaner and smoother. Better loops and letter spacing. You can also see my warm-ups at the top :)
Better spacing, and fairly consistent thicks, thins, and letter shapes. I like drawing “aluminum” because it has a lot of repeating letters and shapes that require consistent strokes and spacing.
I still have a lot of room to improve, but compared to a year ago I’ve made a lot of progress. You can see all of my work at http://jlzych.com/scribbles.
This is best illustrated with a story. One day, I was at my desk, minding my own business 🙃, when our CEO came up to me and asked, “Hey, is there a designer who could work on <insert special CEO pet project>?” In my head, I knew it wasn’t a priority. Telling him that directly, though, would have led to us arguing over why we thought the project was or was not important,
without grounding the argument in the reality of whether it was higher priority than current work-in-progress. And since he’s the CEO, I would have lost that argument.
So instead of doing that, I took him to our Discovery kanban board and said, “Let’s review what each person is doing and see if there’s anything we should stop doing to work on your project.” I pointed to each card on the board and said why we were doing it: “We’re doing this to reach company goal X… that’s important for customer Y,” and so on.
Optimizely’s Discovery kanban board in action
When we got to the end of the board, he admitted, “Yeah, those are all the right things to be doing,” and walked away. I never heard about the project again. And just like that, I said No to our CEO without saying No.
Artists don’t distinguish between the act of making something and the act of thinking about it — thinking and making evolve together in an emergent, concurrent fashion. As a result, when approaching a project, an artist often doesn’t seem to plan it out. She just goes ahead and begins, all the while collecting data that inform how she will continue. A large part of what drives her confidence to move forward is her faith in her ability to course correct and improvise as she goes.
— John Maeda, “Redesigning Leadership”
This quote from John Maeda’s book, Redesigning Leadership really resonated with me. It captures my approach to problems and new challenges perfectly. I don’t stress too much about having every step planned out — I’ve learned to trust my intuition and follow new paths as they appear, having faith that they will lead me to a successful outcome.
“Improvise as she goes.” I never would have thought of it like that, but “improvising” is a great way to describe my approach.
Over the past few months I’ve shifted from a product-centric mindset to a service-centric mindset. My focus used to be on building products that help people accomplish a task or goal. That meant I would try to understand the problem to solve, who it’s being solved for, and then design digital products to solve that problem.
But as I’ve grown as a designer, become a manager, and seen Optimizely move into the enterprise market, I’ve realized that a lot more goes into making a product successful than the product itself. Companies often offer additional services to make customers successful.
A service is a touchpoint or system provided by a company to fulfill a need. A touchpoint is how someone uses a service — a website, phone line, ticket kiosk, and so on.
Most digital products, for example, have additional online properties to help customer be successful, like a knowledge base. Companies can also provide non-digital services, such as a support line customers can call or email.
Even though a service may not have a visual interface, they can still be thoughtfully designed. To make good decisions about how these services work, you still need a solid understanding of your users and their goals. This is what product designers do when designing a product, with the only difference being the final deliverable is not a visual interface.
Shifting to a service mindset makes it obvious that new technologies that have invisible UIs, like Alexa and Operator, can be thought of as services and designed just like any other service. In its simplest form, design is the act of making thoughtful decisions. Having empathy and understanding a user’s goals, motivations, and context help designers make thoughtful decisions. These activities apply to services and invisible UIs just as much as creating visual interfaces.
On top of that, all of the products and services that a company offers its customers need to work in concert with each other. This means that it isn’t enough for each product and service to be well-designed on its own — they also need to be designed to seamlessly work together to make customers successful. Doing this also requires having a broad understanding of your customers.
When I had a product-centric mindset I was aware of the different touchpoints, but I hadn’t put much effort into designing them all as a cohesive, interrelated experience. Customers may use the knowledge base and email support while using the product, but that’s for the support team to manage. “I’m just going to make the product great because that’s all that customers need to be successful,” I used to think. I’ve since learned that isn’t true. It takes more than the product itself to make customers successful.
Learning about the discipline of service design has helped me connect all the different touchpoints customers use into one unified framework. Everything is a service — products included. And they can all be thoughtfully designed by using the core skills designers already have. By doing so, customers will have a better experience with your products and services, which will make them more successful, and that will ultimately make your company more successful.
If you’re interested in learning more about service design, these books and articles have taught me a lot:
I recently saw Sol LeWitt’s Wall Drawing #273 at the SF MOMA, which really stayed with me after leaving the museum. In particular, I like that it wasn’t drawn by the artist himself, but rather he wrote instructions for draftspeople to draw this piece directly on the walls of the museum, thus embracing some amount of variability. From the museum’s description:
As his works are executed over and over again in different locations, they expand or contract according to the dimensions of the space in which they are displayed and respond to ambient light and the surfaces on which they are drawn. In some instances, as in this work, those involved in the installation make decisions impacting the final composition.
Sol LeWitt’s Wall Drawing #273
This embrace of variability reminds me of the web. People browse the web on different devices that have different sizes and capabilities. We can’t control how people will experience our websites. Since LeWitt left instructions for creating his pieces, I realized I could translate those instructions into code, and embrace the variability of the web in the process. The result is this CodePen.
A six-inch (15 cm) grid covering the walls. Lines from corners, sides, and center of the walls to random points on the grid.
1st wall: Red lines from the midpoints of four sides;
2nd wall: Blue lines from four corners;
3rd wall: Yellow lines from the center;
4th wall: Red lines from the midpoints of four sides, blue lines from four corners;
5th wall: Red lines from the midpoints of four sides, yellow lines from the center;
6th wall: Blue lines from four corners, yellow lines from the center;
7th wall: Red lines from the midpoints of four sides, blue lines from four corners, yellow lines from the center.
Each wall has an equal number of lines. (The number of lines and their length are determined by the draftsman.)
As indicated in the instructions, there are 7 separate walls with an equal number of lines, the number and length of which are determined by the draftsperson. To simulate the decisions the draftspeople make, I included controls to let people set how many lines should be drawn, and toggle which walls to see. I let each color be toggleable, as opposed listing out walls 1-7, since each wall is just different combinations of the red, blue, and yellow lines.
The end result fits right in with how human draftspeople have turned these instructions into art. The most notable difference I see between a human and a program is the degree of randomness in the final drawing. From comparing the output of the program to versions done by people, the ones drawn by people seem less “random.” I get the sense that people have a tendency to more evenly distribute the lines to points throughout the grid, whereas the program can create clusters and lines that are really close to each other which a person would consider unappealing and not draw.
It makes me wonder how LeWitt would respond to programmatic versions of his art. Is he okay with computers making art? Were his instructions specifically for people, or would he have embraced using machines to generate his work had the technology existed in his time? How “random” did he want people make these drawings? Does he like that a program is more “random,” or did he expect and want people to make his wall drawings in a way that they would find visually pleasing? We’ll never know, but it was fun to interpret his work through the lens of today’s technology.