Archive of posts from June 2026

Great client services require you saying “No” sometimes.

Not to be a jerk, or to wring them for more cash.

But to protect them from themselves.

A wonderful service that does one thing really well, bent out of shape to satiate an individual’s needs, is no longer a wonderful service. All the magic and promise was removed.

And for what, to avoid a difficult conversation that could guide them to a greater impact? Or to make sure you don’t miss out on an extra suboptimal buck that leads them nowhere?

Doesn’t sound like great client services to me.

Sony discontinuing physical media isn’t a war on physical media.

It’s a war on customer happiness.

They invariably saw the outcries when Microsoft made the same decision, and followed anyway.

I’m sure there’s a financial motivation behind the decision, and I don’t fault businesses for wanting to be profitable.

I’m just not sure that going to war with customer happiness is the best path to achieve that goal.

The problem with when people “fake it until they make it”…

Is the “it” never truly happens because you’re so distracted.

Convincingly pretending to lead a successful project takes as much time as leading a real one.

Convincingly pretending to have skills you don’t takes as much time as building the real skills.

Convincingly pretending to have domain authority takes as much time as actually knowing your stuff.

So why mess around faking anything?

Why not just do the thing?

Art is supposed to be hard.

The blank canvas you’re writing your script in? Figuring out how to assemble those ideas? That’s supposed to be hard.

The storyboard you’re working on, where you could take a hundred different directions? That’s supposed to be hard.

The song you’re working on, where you could go many different ways with it? That’s supposed to be hard.

Yes, AI can “help” with those things. It can make art easy, removing the tension and friction you feel with the world around you, from the intuition you bring to the creative process, and from the journey from here to having work worth talking about.

And that’s what people want to see: work worth talking about.

But is it still worth talking about? “The computer did it”?

Is that the story you wanted to share? Or is it just a story a little bit like the remarkable, touching, inspiring, conversational piece you might have shared if you’d done the hard work?

Google isn’t sending as many clicks anymore.

The shift to “zero click search” means many formerly-popular indie sites are losing up to 58% of their traffic since early 2024.

That’s over half in less than two years.

That stinks. The web thrives on open, decentralized effort from enthusiasts. It decays in closed, walled-gardens from corporations.

The only lesson to be learned here is, don’t trust the corporation to do the work of enthusiasts, and don’t expect the enthusiast’s work to look like the corporation’s.

Support your enthusiasts. Remember how your browser bookmarks work. Show ‘em some love. They won’t know you’re there rooting for them unless you show them.

Hasbro, who owns Peppa Pig, is under fire.

Their latest contracts require child voice actors to sign away rights for the company to use their recordings and likeness to train AI for the purpose of voice reproduction.

Which not only threatens their gig with Hasbro, but threatens their future career as voice actors, while asking them to agree to things they can’t possibly understand at that age.

I get it. Voice actors aren’t cheap. I pay voice actors all the time.

But here’s the thing.

I love paying voice actors. Whenever I send payment, I feel good. They’re making something awesome with me, and they’re getting to do that for a living. We get to do this again, as soon as possible.

When there’s an actor I really like, and I don’t have lines for them for a while, I feel bad — I want to give them more, so we can make more cool things together.

Paying nice people to do what they love and create awesome things together is a privilege. Not a burden.

If it’s a burden to you, the answer isn’t to try and AI-slop your way to a cheaper alternative. It’s to get into a different profession, and make room for those for whom this would be their dream, too.

Support those who collaborate gladly.

Withdraw support from those who try to short-change hard-working talent.

They may listen if the message is received in dollar form.

Will your writing improve with a better text editor?

Will your art improve with better graphics software?

Will your ideas improve with a fancier notebook?

A little, actually.

Honoring your craft with tools you enjoy is no bad thing.

It may help you lock in and go deeper.

But only a little.

The rest comes from sticking to what you’ve got, sticking to tools you know, and going deeper on the discipline of doing your thing.

Wired earbuds are “back” this summer.

Which amuses me, as I use wired earbuds.

Not because I’m “back”. Because they never left.

While keeping my head down doing my thing, studying and diving deeper into my chosen topics, parts of the world moved on, then came right back again.

A lesson to us all, perhaps: focus on your thing. Trade the cyclical new hotness being marketing to you for a deeper understanding and mastery of your choice of craft. One pays dividends for you and those you serve. The other puts you right back where you started.

Every day, I watch my son learn and grow.

It’s a delight and a privilege.

But it’s also fascinating to watch HOW he learns and grows.

Despite studying edutainment as an artform for ~20 years now, most of that study has been on adults, and young adults. Because, lets face it, most education for adults is boring, not very memorable, and uncomfortable when done right.

But it’s true for kids too. Most of it is low-effort and void of results.

In my home, my wife and I watch what engages my son, and lean into what works in a big way.

A show doesn’t engage him? Gone. A show really engages him? We go get every season of it and give it to him, while watching closely for what it is about each episode that grips him or teaches him most.

A toy doesn’t help him learn or grow? We stop buying toys like that. A toy really brings him along? We get lots of it, and construct games that unlock more toys for progression and further incentive.

We do it because we love him, of course.

But its fascinating to see how much I’m learning in the process, about using fun for growth in young minds.

It’s really not that different to adults. I assumed it would be very different, and very saturated, but it’s really not.

I love that, 20 years in, I’m still having huge revelations on the topic.

The more you know, the more you don’t know.

My Mum talked about her “fantasy world” to me when she was on end-of-life care.

She’d read old childrens books, entranced by the artwork and the stories.

When I got her another for her birthday, she enjoyed reading it, saying it was a lovely addition to her “fantasy world”.

A place she could go, even when she couldn’t go anywhere.

I’ve long enjoyed an inner “fantasy world” too, and never knew we had this in common until the very end.

If you have one, talk about it. Share it.

If you don’t have one, I can’t recommend it enough.

Because you’re always free in your fantasy world, even when your body starts to fail you.

Mum taught me to fight for — and dream of — the the world you want to live in.

Every day.

Until your very last day.

If you love what you do, play with it sometimes.

Like to sketch? Play with pens. Different nibs, different inks, feeling how they behave on paper, to see how they influence your sketches and my ideas. A mechanical HB pencil and a wooden 2B make you sketch differently. A fine nib and a brush nib make you ink differently. Different inks make you layer differently. Try and see what happens for you.

Like to write? Play with keyes. Different boards, different switches, different arrangements, to see how they influence your writing. A raised mechanical board with wrist rests may make you not want to move, and commit to longer writing sessions. An easy low profile chiclet keyboard may make you feel like jotting down notes more quickly. Try and see what happens for you.

Nothing beats committing to the work itself — actually making. But playing with your tools a little along the way to see how it influences your output? That’s what fans do, and its an investment in your craft to be a fan of it.

Ever feel guilty for going the extra-extra mile when making things for those you serve?

I used to.

I’d hear a voice in my head saying, “It’s done, the customer will be happy with that, you need to move on to the next item on your list or you’re only going to slow you and your team down, it’s done, what are you doing, get on with it already.”

Listening to that voice is likely no bad thing.

But choosing not to listening to it is also no bad thing. If you want to be known for going that extra-extra mile. If you want to attract more customers like them, as a result of your care, your generosity, and their advocacy. If you want to show yourelf — and the world — that this is more than a job, this is a craft, and one you take very seriously.

Everyone talks about promotion. Promotion promotion promotion. How you should be doing more promotion.

Promotion is important…

But why must we assume it must be you doing all the promotion?

Path 1: Make something good, then promote it forever.

Path 2: Make something great, designed to be spread, and let those you made it for promote it for you forever.

Its a choice.

Humans care a lot about status and affiliation.

Humans are very good at spotting both in each other.

Humans are very bad at realizing how little all this matters, until they witness the end of someone’s live — be it theirs, or someone very close to them.

Then, they sometimes notice the futility, and turn to the things that matter. Their craft, contribution, courage, wisdom, and temperance.

Then, in time, they forget again, reverting back to status and affiliation.

You can break the cycle if you notice the nonsense.

Google Maps will take you straight “there”.

You’ll never really learn where anything is, but it’ll always take you “there”.

You’ll not notice the details on the road, the trees, the signs, the changes, but it’ll always take you “there”.

You’ll not discover the side roads and country paths that give you ideas for other journeys, but it’ll always take you “there”.

You’ll not encounter the opportunity to get lost, pay closer attention, correct your course, and learn so much more about your environment, but it’ll always take you “there”.

Where is “there”, again?

A linear, efficient path to your destination?

Or a meandering, exciting adventure that may eventually lead to your destination?

What if the latter is the “there” we’re really looking for?

We forgot how to get lost, and lost some magic along the way.

That’s been on my mind lately.

When you’re about to lose someone, the pain is the point. The real tragedy would be to not feel pain.

When you’re wrestling with your art, the pain is the point, for the same reasons. It shows just how very much you care.

Maybe we don’t want these things to be easier, more efficient, more productive.

Maybe the pain is the point.

Most of the thoughts I share in this journal never get posted on social media etc.

Because the objective of these words isn’t to get likes or attention.

The objective of these words is to help me discover what I think, and to share the journey of those thoughts with those who care in the future.

Perhaps future-me, looking back on past ideas. Perhaps my son, getting to know what I was thinking about when he was too young to ask. Perhaps you, looking for other perspectives on topics you hold dear.

You don’t need a good reason to start journaling and publishing.

You’re more likely to need a good reason not to.

We love learning in my household.

We’re planning to build a small library into our home once we clear the room out planned for it, and carve some time to carve some wood to make it how we envision it.

But it’s not just books (though there are a lot of books).

There is also comics. Videos. Little toys that remind us of lessons learned. Pictures we’ve drawn. Photos we’ve taken.

Learning is a vibrant, exciting, fulfilling-for-its-own-sake passtime. Something to pursue before we even know we might need to know the things we’ll learn, because who knows what we may discover along the way.

Didn’t always feel this way. I had to learn to learn by practicing, finding my tastes, and leaning into them with curiosity.

Learning to learn — your way — will be an intensely rewarding, never-ending gift to your future self, if you make the time for it.

Talk to almost any freelancer.

They’ll tell you about the difference between the opportunity, and what shipped.

A wonderful, vibrant, exciting possibility, and what shipped.

A novel new approach that customer interviews revered, and what shipped.

A huge part of making great work is having CEOs that don’t ruin it.

I saw a quote today that tickled me:

“The reason RAM prices went up 4x is that a massive amount of not-yet-manufactured memoryh was bought with money that doesn’t really exist to be put into GPUs that haven’t been made yet, to be installed in data centers that haven’t been built, powered by infrasttructure that may never exist, to satisfy demand that isn’t actually there, in order to generate profies that are mathematically impossible.”

Fascinating. A fun reminder to not believe everything you read in the news, folks.

We don’t like when big tech talks about what their products will do to writers, or artists, or musicians, because they’re not writers, or artists, or musicians.

Artists want to work together to push art forward. We do it all on our own, and we enjoy it intensely.

Same for writers. We do it all on our own, and we enjoy it intensely.

Same for musicians. I’m not a musician, but I adore watching musicians collaborate and advance their genres.

In some ways, AI is a scapegoat — it’s not just AI that bothers creatives. It’s that an outsider came in and decided to tell the doers how to do.

No wonder they’re getting booed during commencement speeches.

My team uses Basecamp because all of the work is in one place.

Our marketing uses Brevo because all of the email and customer data is in one place.

Our animation pipeline uses Toon Boom products because everything from storyboard through to compositing is ine one place.

Our codebases use standard syntax and structure because every developer who touches it finds it easy and familiar.

Our scripts are written in .fdx files because every scriptwriter knows what to do with .fdx files.

“Simple and accessible” are key ingredients in our decision-making process, because it frees us up from thinking about the things that don’t matter.

So that we can focus our attention on the very few number of things that do.

The funny thing about the list of things on your mind right now…

Is if you were to write them all down…

And cross out the ones that don’t directly impact the heart of your work or those you love…

You may just find that the list reduces by 90%.

Just from asking one question.

Isn’t it better to focus on just those things, then?

Agencies love interns and junior talent because they have fresh eyes with fresh ideas, unburdened by memories of what got shot down, what clients won’t go for, and what the market “expects nowadays”.

What they overlook is, we should all remain that way anyway. What use is your contribution if you’re happy to be neutered by every negative experience along the way.

If you can, try to be like a junior with experience, not like a war veteran afraid of loud noises.

Your work will thank you for it.

Great artists don’t draw all day.

They draw a lot. When they’re tired of that, they read about drawing. When they’re tired about that, they think about drawing. When they’re tired of that, they do something else.

All in service of their craft, for its own sake, and for those they toil for.

It’s okay to put the pencil down so long as the fire keeps burning.

Lean into your craft for long enough… and you’ll find you disagree with every one of your heroes on at least something.

This can feel disheartening at first. Lonely, even.

Then you realize it’s your voice taking form. Your point of view. An expression perhaps worth sharing, a by-product of your tenure in the space.

Lean into it — it makes you our brethren, instead of merely our fans.

The things you’re deliberating over…

Reading reviews about online…

Umming and arring about…

Do they make your family meaningfully happier or your art meaningfully better?

If not, why not ditch the evaluation and just focus on making your family meaningfully happier or your art meaningfully better?

If a toddler draws a picture, then AI “improves” it by generating a lifelike version of the drawing… does that make the drawing better?

Or does it steal a gift from that child away from you.

Or rewrite history as we lose evidence of their growth, perspective, and effort.

Or remove the desire to improve in a skill that computers “will just do better anyway”.

What if the generated lifelike version of the drawing removed the art, by removing the artist.

What if their imperfect hand-drawn art is more “real” art, a communication between artist and viewer, a relationship shared through images, than the machine-made alternative could ever be.

What if that’s true whether it’s hand-drawn on paper or in Photoshop - the hands of the artist are on each brushstroke, like words in a poem.

Worth thinking about.

What do you do when there’s zero feedback?

The best thing I’ve found is to… just not care about the size of the response. Most of the things I’ve made that did well took a minute for others to understand. They were novel… different… and that means less competition (good) but also slower time to “get it” (bad).

So we have to either make peace with periods of zero feedback, or make peace with grueling, never-ending, fierce competition.

No right or wrong answers I suppose. But I know which I prefer!