Not long ago, most everyday problems were solved with little more than one’s wits, a dose of common sense, and one’s own two hands. Virtually any appliance or piece of equipment in a typical home could be serviced with a little mechanical know-how and a basic toolkit. Do-it-yourself guides such as the Time-Life Home Repair and Improvement series provided all the instruction one needed to tackle even more complex electrical, plumbing, and carpentry projects. Of course, the guides left out how much actual time, sweat, and trial-and-error it would really take to get something done.

I was fortunate growing up to have an industrious grandfather who took every opportunity to school me in the ways of the handyman. He gave me my very first set of tools — a ballpeen hammer, flat and Phillips-head screwdrivers, a crescent wrench, socket wrenches, small vise clamps, some metal files, and a saw — all neatly housed in a metal Sears Craftsman toolbox, with plenty of room for additional tools as my skills grew. In our basement workshop, he would teach me the basics of repair, from simple woodworking to soldering, but the most important lesson of all involved no tools. It was how to be resourceful.

When MacGyver first aired on television, it was love at first sight. I devoured every episode with the hope of learning some clever trick or inventive use for an everyday object that might one day get me out of a similar jam, as young boys often imagine. With my parents’ permission, I got my hands on a Swiss Army knife. I didn’t want just any model, not even the one good old MacGyver carried around (apparently, there were several). I chose the biggest, baddest model available at the time, aptly named the SwissChamp. At 3.5 inches thick and boasting 33 tools, it was guaranteed to serve me well for a very long time. About twenty-five years later, it hasn’t let me down, although I still haven’t used every tool on that thing.

My tinkering tendencies have mellowed considerably over the years. The scope of problems I can fix with my own hands has shrunk to what I have the patience and time for, which usually involves common plumbing repairs, light woodworking, and anything that can be mended with superglue. Don’t even ask me about car repair.

Today, I rely most on the modern-day multi-tool: my iPhone. Nearly six years since its debut, the iPhone still amazes me; as a physical object, it does little more than provide a mirror reflection on its screen, but as an electronic device, it houses a telephone, television, radio, computer, address book, notebook, calculator, camera, camcorder, compass, level, flashlight, video game console, and much more. It won’t help me install a new washer and dryer, for instance, but it will help me search for a local appliance dealer, review customer ratings, buy the appliances, call to schedule installation, and set a reminder in my calendar for the appointment. Not that I’m proud of this pinnacle of human achievement, mind you.

The MacGyver instinct never goes away, though. I’ve recently become fascinated with the phenomenon of every day carry, or EDC, which promotes and even glamorizes preparedness for “situations ranging from the mundane to the disastrous” using a compact but high-performance toolkit. Whereas a simple pocket knife may have been more than suitable for daily needs a century or so ago, the modern “carry” typically includes a smartphone, a sturdy folding knife, a multi-tool, a flashlight, a pen, a manly wristwatch, and the occasional handgun. There are even preferred brands and discussion forums dedicated to the subject. I’ll admit that, except for the weapons, many of the items and the level of rigor and design that goes into them are impressive, but I wonder if the coolness factor of survivalist gadgets and shiny metal objects overshadows the spirit of utility and resourcefulness that every day carry embodies.

The ability to rise to the unexpected challenges of everyday life and figure out a solution on the spot, sometimes under pressure and with few resources, is becoming a lost skill. Technology can only carry us so far, but we may eventually find ourselves stranded, over-dependent and helpless to fend for ourselves without it. Real preparedness is more than having all the right tools for every predicament or every imaginable supply in abundant stock to counter existential risks. They mean little without the presence of mind to grasp a situation, determine the right action, and get the job done, however big or small.

How might we re-learn to be more capable, self-sufficient thinkers and problem solvers when we take our modern conveniences for granted? Boy Scout training for grown-ups, perhaps?

Much like other crossover sensations from the creative world such as design thinking and information design, the visual thinking phenomenon has sustained interest for some time now. From the most staid corporate institutions to the most enlightened young startups, visual thinking techniques are being sought after as part of a new business toolkit in the quest to create “cultures of innovation.” Post-its, whiteboards, and flipcharts are infiltrating once stodgy conference rooms and work spaces. Unbridled creativity — not industrial-era efficiency — is the key to better products, smarter services, and increased profit.

But behind the glowing promise of the vizthink movement, a challenge persists for many in the business world: how best to harness the power of visual thinking to achieve real results?

There are already countless answers to that question tied to specific practices. Some would argue that free-form “doodling” (now scientifically proven to aid attention and memory) is integral to more engaging meetings because it ensures participants are actively tracking along with the conversation. Others might champion visual facilitation methods such as graphic recording, the mural-style translation of words to pictures, as the key to making strategy sessions memorable. There’s also the smorgasbord of activities known as gamestorming, meant to enrich collaboration by incorporating elements of play into the workplace. But for the beginner unsure of where to get the most value out of visual thinking, the variety of options can be difficult to navigate, and the time and energy it takes to reach a conclusion on one’s own can be daunting.

A number of guiding lights provide practical instruction and systems for learning core visual thinking principles, yet there is still room to close the gap between the vision of vizthink and everyday workplace realities.

Thinking First, Visuals Second

It’s easy to think that beautifully penned sketchnotes or delightfully illustrated graphic recordings are the hallmark of good visual thinking: they demonstrate great technical skill and creativity, and they certainly appeal to the eye. In reality, they might only succeed at just the visual part while providing little insight or fuel for the thinking part. Quite often, the artistic production of these visual artifacts takes precedence over the process that they support and the outcomes they are meant to deliver. To be blunt, if a visual fails to convey an idea clearly, enhance understanding (for oneself and for a group), inform decisions, or drive toward a goal, then it benefits no one. Visual thinking is more than just drawing for the sake of drawing, capturing something for posterity, or aiding memory. It boosts our capacity to process information and create new knowledge by enabling specific cognitive tasks. In a business context, visual thinking facilitates knowledge work in teams by dissolving communication barriers and allowing many different minds to work together towards a common goal. It is the glue of human collaboration.

Different Modes for Different Goals

At a fundamental level, visual thinking operates in three modes, with corresponding tools and techniques:

GENERATING

Visual thinking is generative — that is, it relies on the output of ideas and content in tangible, visual form. It may sound simplistic, but without the externalization of thought in some representational form — text, drawing, symbol, etc. — visual thinking cannot happen past the mind’s eye.

Doodling is the most common generative activity since it channels stream of consciousness thoughts in an unstructured form. The lack of inhibition and freedom to put pen to paper that doodling affords, rather than the quality of visual output, is perhaps of greatest value when solving problems. Related activities such as graphic recording and sketch-noting are also generative in that they convert spoken and written thoughts into pictures, with the intent of making key ideas resonate in memory. Mind mapping and visual brainstorming also fit in this category since they allow many ideas to be generated rapidly.

ANALYZING

Visual thinking can also be analytic. It breaks down raw content to uncover patterns and define relationships. Tied to the generative function, analysis cannot occur without something to analyze, such as meeting notes, PowerPoint decks, and other documents.

Analysis seeks to create order and includes non-drawing-based methods that take advantage of spatial relationships. Pinning up, clustering, and color-coding materials are classic ways to organize content into categories for analysis. Visual frameworks such as axis plots, charts, and graphs help capture and distill the findings of analysis into a usable form.

SYNTHESIZING

Finally, visual thinking can be synthetic by combining previously disparate or disconnected ideas to create newer and clearer ones. Synthesis typically feeds off of the findings of an analysis and produces tighter pictures of a situation than previously known.

Synthesis can take the form of diagrams, concept sketches, and visual stories, among other methods. Multiple iterations strengthen synthesis: trial and error with different formats, configurations, and graphic approaches ensures that all essential elements of an explanation work together to communicate effectively.

All three modes of visual thinking are essential to problem solving, but I find that the real power of visual thinking lies in the second and third modes. This is where the thinking side of the equation really shines — where “aha” moments happen.

Finding the Right Mode for the Job

With a basic understanding of visual thinking’s distinct but related functions, it’s easier to diagnose common work situations and take action. Here are six common scenarios and some possible approaches:

Do you need to get a quick grip on a situation?

GENERATE: Draw a very simple picture of what you know and don’t know — who’s involved, what their roles are, where the situation is happening, etc. Add to the picture as you learn more, even if the picture gets messy. You can take a more considered approach once you know what you’re dealing with.

Do you need to dig deeper and learn more?

GENERATE: Ask probing questions to capture as much information as possible verbally, using visual frameworks as needed when words get cumbersome (eg, organizational structures, process flows, etc). Just stick to generating facts without making assumptions or drawing conclusions.

Do you need to sort through research or extract the most essential information from a pile of documents?

ANALYZE: Read through the content in several passes until you see a pattern emerge. Pin up, number, color, stack, label — use whatever means necessary to clearly distinguish one category from another. Track your findings along the way to synthesize later.

Do you need to put all the facts together and see the big picture?

SYNTHESIZE: Explore multiple different ways to put together the key findings from your analysis until the story or message comes through clearly. Aim for balance and visual harmony rather than superfluous detail to refine the picture.

Do you need to come up with ideas for something?

GENERATE: Try visual brainstorming. Take a stack of index cards (or post-its) and draw one idea per card, using only enough visual detail to get the idea across quickly. Go for quantity and pin them up or arrange on a table for analysis only when you’ve exhausted all possibilities.

Do you need to explain a concept to colleagues?

SYNTHESIZE: Sketch out the three to five important points you want to highlight in your story, then draw and redraw until your pictures are both complete and easy for your audience to understand. Rather than jump to PowerPoint, consider presenting in storyboard format or in a sequence of flipchart drawings. This format saves time and invites additional comments and feedback.

There are many more techniques (and entire systems) available to accomplish the above tasks depending on the situation, time/location constraints, and whether you are working solo or in a group. As a general rule, I find that simpler is always better when it comes to doing visual thinking in a business setting. Setup should be easy, tools and materials should be readily available, and visual methods should maximize inclusion and understanding — always keep everyone engaged and the process flowing. With experience, one comes to realize that almost any challenge can be made manageable with a keen situational awareness, a few workhorse pictographs and frameworks, and a bare-bones toolkit.

Technical note: I’ve started using Bamboo Paper on my iPad more frequently these days. It’s tremendously helpful in creating natural-looking drawings and outputting them digitally. The visuals in this post and the last were created with this method.

I talk a lot about information design and the confusion surrounding it, but I realize I’ve done very little to demystify what exactly it is that I do. Since my work is a hybrid of disciplines, it’s difficult to map my expertise to an existing, well-defined role or title that anyone might readily recognize. My present high-altitude explanation — helping people make sense of their world in order to solve problems, uncover opportunities, and achieve their goals — conveys the benefit of what I do conceptually. Following up by listing my three skill areas (creative problem solving, visual thinking, and information design) and introducing a new umbrella term (strategic information design) adds more detail but might potentially result in less clarity, as each realm of practice suffers from its own lack of definition and poor widespread understanding. (Besides, who isn’t “strategic” these days?) A perfectly concise and direct elevator pitch still remains elusive; I often find that it takes me more words and some key visual examples to get to “aha” when meeting new people and answering the perennial question “so, what do you do?”

It’s time for me to explain myself a little better. To start, let me unpack what each skill area entails in simple terms:

1. Creative Problem Solving

This is the foundation of what I do. It combines process knowledge, individual problem solving preference knowledge, and group facilitation skill. This can also be described as helping people define and achieve a goal. Not having deep subject matter expertise is an advantage in problem solving facilitation, as it frees me to ask basic questions that often lead to insights hiding “in plain sight.” Tangible results are:

• A clear roadmap to results
• Focused meetings and group activities
• Clear action items along the way to drive momentum

2. Visual Thinking

This skill is focused on modeling ideas visually to speed understanding. It reduces ambiguity in conversation by translating words and concepts into pictures. It also allows real and imagined states to be visualized, such as a problem in the present and solution in the future. Tangible results are:

• Rapid knowledge capture and synthesis
• More productive and inclusive meetings
• Useful takeaways (in the form of clear meeting sketches) to preserve insights from conversation

3. Information Design

This is the logic that governs effective communication. Closely linked to visual thinking, it involves the creation of systems to organize ideas and other content to make them useful to the widest audience. I apply information design in the broadest sense, beyond pre-defined data. I work with people to uncover facts and organize them using visual frameworks, then iterate to produce the clearest, most compelling picture. Tangible results are:

• Architectures to manage complex content
• Crisp visualizations of refined thinking
• Visual stories and communication tools

This blend of skills allows me to walk into any situation, quickly diagnose the problem(s), and help a client reach a new understanding of their challenges even before any actual work is done. Examples of typical interventions:

When a problem isn’t well defined or a situation has many moving parts, I can work with teams to draw out key facts and assemble a picture of the present that allows deeper investigation.

When a new strategy, initiative, or business idea is further along and needs explanation to different audiences, I can construct compelling visualizations that paint the big picture as well as provide detail where it matters.

When a new way of working is needed to address organizational change, I can help design stories and learning experiences that include workshops, training materials, and effectiveness evaluations.

Getting to where I am now wasn’t a linear path. I didn’t learn how to do this type of work at college, even though my journey as an information designer began there. Years of working on traditional design projects allowed me to build my design chops, but it left me wanting to do more with design than just create artifacts. My breakthrough came at Humantific, where I gained exposure to large, ambiguous challenges that pushed my limits as a designer. I realized that, while my skills as a craftsperson and form giver were still essential, my roles as sensemaker and thought partner were of much greater value to the clients I worked with.

Today, as I think about my role in the world, a peculiar challenge exists. There has never been a greater urgency for understanding and clarity across all dimensions of business and society, but awareness that help is available along a whole continuum of needs, especially upstream, is still lacking. Those who can truly deliver that support need to stand out better and communicate the value they bring in a more accessible way. This post, and more to follow, aim to solve that problem.

How might we make sense of all the talk surrounding visualization today?

Note: I’ve used “visualization” throughout to remain consistent with the language of both articles, but I feel the term is still ambiguous and tends to refer to data-driven works only. 

I spend much of my time sifting through RSS feeds, Google Alerts, e-mails, and tweets in search of those moments of insight that bring meaning and clarity to the visualization conversation. Most of the time I get frustrated or disappointed because, even among the more incisive articles, I keep seeing the same missed opportunities to cut through the clutter and elevate the discussion above debate. However, one recent exchange stood out for me.

Andy Kirk’s article for O’Reilly Radar, Walking the tightrope of visualization criticism, and Robert Kosara’s response, A Criticism of Visualization Criticism Criticism, draw attention to a broad though often unexamined issue: the dynamics of participation in visualization discourse. Andy justly states that criticism of visualizations is often leveled too harshly or without regard for the context in which visual displays are made. By ruthlessly picking apart “unprofessional” works and applying the same rigid evaluation criteria across disparate visualization types, “experts” and others are breeding a culture of exclusivity that discourages newcomers from participating. He also calls for a greater awareness of the visualization ecosystem — the professionals, amateurs, and the general public who occupy this space (to paraphrase Andy’s descriptions) and their respective roles and needs. Even if certain approaches appeal more to the heart or the eye and offend the purist’s sensibilities, their place must still be acknowledged alongside other types of visual displays. Empathy, he concludes, is the key to building a richer, more inclusive community for all participants.

While Andy advocates for the velvet glove in criticism, Robert defends the iron fist. Direct, pointed critique is essential to shaping this still young field, according to Robert, since it maintains the boundary between what is acceptable as visualization and what is not. If we do not uphold the rules and principles of good visualization, as Robert asserts, confusion will continue to reign. Understanding what “good” means and how to achieve it comes from the ability to question why something works or doesn’t work, to laud its merits as well as expose its flaws. Unlike Andy’s tone of gentle guidance, drawn from his experiences teaching data visualization, Robert’s is one of tough love, in which hard truths are delivered without sugarcoating or restraint.

Both Andy and Robert raise excellent points, although I couldn’t help but notice the good cop / bad cop tone in how they present their views. Rather than continue the “criticizing criticism” debate, I see an opportunity in their discussion to sketch out the bigger picture of visualization discourse. I’ve listed and briefly unpacked six different dimensions of visualization discourse embedded in both articles. This analysis is highly subjective and a bit over-generalized, but I hope the piece-by-piece breakdown will inform further thinking:

1. WHO is talking?

Andy’s visualization ecosystem construct presents three separate groupings of people within the visualization space, but there are further important distinctions to be drawn between academics and practitioners, college-educated versus self-taught visualization designers, veterans versus newcomers, and others. All kinds of people participate in blogs, discussion forums, and events, and while everyone’s background isn’t always explicit, we should be mindful of that diversity. We also need to acknowledge not just who’s in the room, so to speak, but who we are ourselves — our preferences, biases, and beliefs. We can’t escape human nature, but our interactions in the visualization space would benefit from a measure of human awareness.

2. WHAT are we talking about?

Visualization as a broad realm of practice and study still eludes easy, widespread understanding. Its terms are ambiguous, its boundaries are blurry, its sub-disciplines fragmented, and its many tools and techniques overwhelming. While there’s a very general understanding of what “visualization” refers to by way of its outputs, there is yet no clear picture of what it fully entails. Proponents from different practice areas such as data visualization and infographic design attempt to “set the record straight” on basic definitions, yet they inevitably spark debate and reveal the factional divides that perpetuate confusion. I believe this fact will remain the biggest obstacle to progress across all areas of visualization unless we work toward some common ground on which to coexist and develop a shared vocabulary with which to engage in productive discussions.

3. WHY are we talking?

Everyone in the visualization space has different motivations to participate, whether it’s learning, teaching, peer recognition, self-promotion, or a blend. These individual reasons are inherent in any public dialogue, and may serve to enrich it, but from a big-picture perspective, their confluence can interfere with focused conversation. Some sites may attract a range of intents: marketers selling a company’s expertise, students seeking career guidance, professionals looking for feedback on their work, and ordinary people looking for an entry point into the field of visualization. Granted, it isn’t always easy to find a home for all interests or to moderate fairly, but productive discussion suffers when spaces aren’t maintained for specific purposes. I believe the goal of participation in visualization discourse should be to promote knowledge exchange and enhance understanding for all. In reality, not everyone may share that motivation and may not even care about the larger ecosystem of visualization, but for some, it is the primary reason why platforms for discussion exist.

4. HOW are we talking about visualization?

With so many channels for expression at our disposal, we have as much freedom to say what we want as how we want to say it. Questions of “right” and “wrong” or “good” and “bad” in visualization naturally stir strong opinions and fuel the urge to make them known. Among blog comments and discussion threads, it isn’t hard to find examples along the entire spectrum of online social interaction, from passive “likes” and nods of approval to “trolling” and other forms of aggression. But in the middle band of the spectrum, there is a fine line between constructive criticism and flat-out fault-finding, and that distinction depends on the words we use and the tone in which we deliver our messages. If we first accept and uphold the notion that interpersonal conduct of any sort should be respectful above all, online or offline, then perhaps we might learn how to balance critical analysis and erudition with consideration for perspectives other than our own. In practice, that may be as simple as reflecting on one’s comments and critiques before hitting “submit,” or as hard as swallowing one’s pride and publicly retracting an inappropriate remark.

5. WHERE are we talking?

Different settings are meant for different conversations, but some conversations don’t happen where they should, or happen instead where they shouldn’t. In the wide world of visualization, with so many places to contribute one’s two cents and the smorgasbord of topics often covered in the same place, it seems that discussions materialize wherever the signal strength is greatest and traffic is heaviest. Sometimes the same question or topic might get asked in multiple places but with different answers (general Q&A sites like Quora and Yahoo! Answers come to mind). That’s great for publishers and site owners, but I’m not sure that’s a good thing for newcomers and for visualization discourse in the long run. It results in fragmented information and potentially lost insights when links break or sites fold, but it also makes the visualization space difficult to navigate. I no longer bookmark websites mainly because there are just too many places to keep track of and not enough sites that make sense of the visualization landscape.

6. HOW MUCH are we talking?

We’re doing a lot of talking about visualization these days, perhaps more than ever before. Books, videos, podcasts, magazine articles, conferences, and other content outlets are extending the conversation far and wide. Much of the chatter skews heavily towards tactical matters: tools, technology, techniques, and, of course, criticism. But when it comes to big picture issues, like defining boundaries and mapping of the landscape, both talk and action are in short supply. Indeed, discourse is verbal in nature, but something tangible must come out of it — whether it’s a new direction of study, a change in practice, or even a bridge between the cultures and tribes of visualization. Otherwise, we’re just volleying words back and forth. This issue is one I think about often, since I find myself doing more passive things like reading and commenting than active ones, like engaging with more people in the visualization community and even directly working on the problems I complain about.

So WHAT’S NEXT?

I often see visualization referred to as “young,” “new,” or “emerging,” but as a human activity, it is actually quite old; only our attempts to formalize, popularize, and maximize its potential in modern society are recent. In that context, we still have much work to do if we want to establish a solid foundation for visualization to thrive. What we’re seeing today — the tangled friction between personas, content, motives, behaviors, contexts, and activities — is a natural part of any human endeavor, and as such, it requires human cooperation and human understanding to resolve.

To echo a sentiment I heard somewhere, I would really worry if everything was perfect and there was nothing to work towards. Progress means regularly fixing the things that need improvement while proactively seeking out opportunities to innovate and grow. Little by little, the visualization community is making steps forward on different fronts. Andy, Robert, and others are contributing to that progress in their writing and participation. So long as there are voices piercing through the noise and creating change — old voices, new voices, and hopefully wiser voices — the visualization conversation will flourish for a long time.

23 years, 36 sketchbooks (stacked in order by size)

Back in 2008, Michael Bierut wrote an excellent post on Design Observer about his collection of notebooks — how he started, what kind he uses, what purpose they serve. His reflections on note taking and the habit of recording thoughts regularly on paper stuck with me, not just as an insight into his creative process, but as a motivation to reflect on my own relationship with my sketchbooks.

I have been drawing my entire life. As a child, I drew on whatever paper I could get my hands on: notepads, copy paper, legal pads, napkins, envelopes. Cartoons and comic books were my inspiration and my “goal” as a young artist. I would spend hours recreating scenes from my favorite shows, like Voltron and the Thundercats, or tracing panels from Fantastic Four and Wolverine comics (among many others). Over time, I accumulated a lot of paper of varying sizes and types, which I eventually kept in a portfolio. But I came to realize that this method would prove inefficient if I was to take my drawing more seriously.

Superhero drawings, 1989-1992 (yep, I was a Marvel guy)

I started keeping regular sketchbooks around the age of twelve, but exactly how I came into possession of my first one escapes me (it is likely that my mother or my cousin may have bought me my first official sketchbook, which I no longer have). My earliest sketchbooks were large, back when scale mattered more than portability, and they were usually cheap Aquabee drawing pads with coarse-tooth paper. When I got tired of pages falling out from constantly folding them back, I switched to higher quality Strathmore and Canson sketchbooks with smoother, brighter paper and sturdier binding.

I’ve never stuck exclusively to one particular brand or style of sketchbook. I like holding a different book in my hands every now and then, perhaps to make me feel like I’m producing new thoughts and ideas. My only lasting criteria for a sketchbook are that the pages be free of lines and that the paper accept ink well. I make exceptions only under special circumstances: when I want to do guilt-free experimentation, when I find a handsome sketchbook that inspires me, or when I receive a sketchbook for free or as a gift. My preference lately has been for the Moleskine Classic Large Plain Notebook because it’s just the right size for my needs, it withstands daily abuse, and it closes securely with the trademark elastic band.

Two favorites: a generic newsprint pad (left) and an Italian notebook covered in medieval imagery (right)

Anything goes inside the pages of my sketchbooks: if I can think it, I draw it. My early sketchbooks were playgrounds for my imagination, full of bizarre creatures, invented landscapes, idealized superheroes, and impromptu drawing lessons. Sometimes pages would be crammed with lots of little ideas, and other times a single small idea would occupy a page on its own. I would try out mixed media, watercolor, and collage on occasion, but I typically work in pencil or ink out of sheer immediacy — never in ballpoint pen. These days, my medium of choice tends to be a Pilot Precise V5 Rolling Ball, fine point, although any good rolling ball pen with rich black ink will do.

A small watercolor sketch for a potential children’s book, 2002

Drawing from life is one of my favorite activities, especially while traveling. I always try to carve out time to just sit somewhere and fill my sketchbook with observations of my surroundings, to impress them on my memory. Museum visits also allow me to engage in sustained, active seeing. Ancient artifacts, modern masterworks, and even museum spaces reveal hidden lessons only after lengthy analysis with pencil and paper. It often takes several tries and many pages for me to really understand what I’m looking at.

Selected sketchbook pages from a trip to England, 1999

Christian Science Mother Church, Boston, MA, 2000

In college, I started out as an art major, so my sketchbook was an invaluable learning space and work space. As in my childhood, I found myself recreating works by other artists, but with a deeper appreciation for volume, space, and proportion. I planned out compositions for paintings and occasionally took notes for other classes and assignments in my trusty sketchbook. (The pages below are from my best college sketchbook, which I nearly lost in a flood after moving back home from school. Luckily, I was able to remove the saturated cover and let the damp pages dry. Thankfully, all of the sketches survived.)

Studies of heads after masterworks by Watteau, Fragonard, and de Ribera, 1997

Life drawing sketch to establish correct figure proportion, 1997

From the end of college up to the present, my sketchbooks have become less artistic and expressive in nature, more functional and diagrammatic. My information design and graphic design sensibilities took shape in the late 1990′s and early 2000′s through logo studies, thumbnails of page layouts, and sketches for personal portfolio projects. I mainly use sketchbooks now for project work, to capture notes from meetings, construct concept models showing relationships between ideas, or figure out how to represent data.

Logo studies, 1999

My most productive work moments typically happen during my morning or evening train commute, and only occasionally at the office. With headphones on and a block of uninterrupted time (usually 20-30 minutes), I am able to dive into a problem in my sketchbook and rapidly explore every angle. I enjoy looking back at old project sketches and seeing how my thinking evolved on a particular diagram. My first attempts are never successful.

Sketches to figure out concept diagrams and layout for a work project, 2008

My sketchbook also serves as a journal when my mind needs an outlet for non-work thinking. I rely on words for the most part, but I also try to create simple pictures when it helps me put different ideas together. Sometimes ideas will carry over from one sketchbook to the next as new ideas emerge, in which case I rewrite or redraw the relevant bits.

Random quotes and thoughts, 2009

A brain dump on content and the digital world, 2011

The role of sketchbooks in my life has evolved considerably, although I long for simpler times when the only purpose I had was to let my mind wander. Creative freedom took on a much different meaning in my childhood than it does today. For all the latitude that design work affords me, I still feel that my most recent sketchbooks and drawings represent a form of commercial art — artistic production in the service of business. That, fundamentally, is the nature of my work (though not it’s sole purpose), and yet it has led me further away from what compelled me to start drawing in the first place.

The tension I feel between “formal” art and “functional” art is something I hope to explore in my current sketchbook. I want to revive old ways of seeing and creating and allow them to coexist with and even inform my more structured design work. For me, truly fulfilling art work is a convergence of deep concentration, visual reasoning, and artistic production — without the pressure of time, intent, or anticipated outcomes. The state of flow, as described by Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, came naturally to me in my childhood, but as school and work grew to dominate my life, it became harder and harder to evoke. Collage, for instance, is one means of rekindling flow: it allows me to experiment freely, make spontaneous associations, and assemble my thoughts easily with a minimum of craft. Through this form of “play,” I can break conventions that have become ingrained in my drawing habits and open up more possibilities in how I synthesize information visually.

Sketchbook #37, customized with a hand-painted network pattern, 2012

As comfortable as I’ve become with ink on paper, I am very curious about the role of devices and software in extending or redefining the sketchbook. I have tested countless drawing apps on my iPad, and while a handful come close to simulating real-live drawing (Bamboo Paper, SketchBook, Procreate, and more recently, Paper), the experience is still rife with shortcomings: the clumsiness of using a nubby stylus, crude recreation of different media, and unnatural control of the page/canvas (never mind the lack of tactility). Still, those don’t deter me from continuing to test them out and finding ways to fold them into a digital design workflow.

Test drawing on iPad 2 done with Sketchbook app and a Targus stylus, 2012

Technology will eventually open up new creative possibilities beyond what we can imagine today, but for the time being, I’m quite content pushing the boundaries of a good old-fashioned bound paper sketchbook.