Craig Constantine

It’s not you, it’s me

Life is rich and colorful but to justify the habit you tell yourself that your phone will somehow be more interesting. This is an excuse. If you’re bored by the situation you’re in it’s your own damn fault.
~ Tom Critchlow, from The Art of Being Switched On

Yes, absolutely. There are levels to this art of being switched on. First is to be come self-aware enough to notice that you are generally off. Second, being able to notice in the moment when you are off. Third, being on. Fourth—and this makes the first three seem easy—being truly happy when others around you are switched off.

Hauling the mail

December 29

*hunh* I’ve been incorrectly using the phrase, “hauling the mail,” forever. I was going to use it as the title for a post about something else and went to see if I could find something interesting to quote… only to realize it means to move things at high speed. I’ve always thought it meant to do something that was once really amazing or challenging, but which is now so regular and routine as to be forgotten—that’s literally what hauling the mail is. Who (besides me?) notices all the hauling of mail which gets done? Anyway. Okay, mental data updated—and I’ll never use it again since it makes not sense for it to be about moving things quickly. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

How about ‘never’?

December 27

One of the reasons we work in six week cycles, is that it gives us a different definition of later.
~ Jason Fried, from Avoiding pile-ups

I often remind myself (in my mind, in my journals, in blog posts, in 7 for Sunday… because I need a lot of reminding) that all of my problems arise because I overestimate what I can get done in the short term. Yes, that usually has a second part about the long term. And that’s not where my problems arise from. For me, it’s all about teeing up too much to do. Working in relatively short cycles, as Fried describes, and put things into the “now” (in this cycle) or “never” (not “later”!) categories is a big part of how I manage to not explode into chaos and depression three times a week.

Getting back

December 25

So much has happened in 2024. What do I have in mind for 2025? I’m looking forward to reading all my 2024 journal entries—I’m excited to see optimistic Craig get punched in the face (only because I know how that story ends.) I’m also looking forward to getting back to writing regularly here on the ‘ol blog. This is, after all, where the shift into my current epoch started.

One big lift?

December 23

Have you heard the phrase “a big lift”? It’s the idea of making a concerted effort to accomplish something big, in one steady effort. The idea being that some accomplishments just don’t quite ever get done via small, daily steps.

Each year, in NO!vember I set about weeding. I try to identify every single thing I’m doing, and then assess whether or not I want to keep doing that. This sets me up for December. In December everyone I normally interact with starts to assume everyone else is on holiday. Things generally get more quiet in terms of projects and work.

In December, I identify big things that I’ve either just discovered (perhaps I didn’t even see them until clearing out in NO!vember) or which I’ve been ignoring (which means they’ve been nagging at the back of my brain.) I try to find a big lift that will yield some sort of big benefit in the coming year—a big time savings, or a big force multiplier for me going forward.

In December, I point my efforts at one of those big lifts…

It invariably ends up being a huge effort—bigger than just “big,” several hours, every day! But each year, as I head into the new year, I ride on that bad-ass high of knowing I cleared the decks in NO!vember and picked off that one big lift in December.

Is there a big lift you can imagine that would shift your continents creating new opportunities or capabilities for you in the new year?

Between a rock and a hard place

December 16

I really enjoyed Curtis Cates’s episode 14, Transformation can be fun…!.

Lately, I’ve been back to my regular walking, and I’ve started getting serious listening time in. I was delighted to get a chance to hear from Curtis.

(Yes, yes, I’m way waay behind on the Hansel & Gretel Code.)

Like you, my to-listen-to podcast cup runeth over! I’m regularly adding newly-released episodes. But I also have a way of systematically looking through shows’ entire back-catalog. So I’m also, regularly adding very-old episodes.

Yikes!

…and I heard one of Curtis’s sound-bites as I typed that.

Anyway, if you’re already familiar with Curtis’s work, drop back into ep14 of H&G, just for fun. If you’re going “Curtis who?” … start below. And, you’re welcome!

art is personal
and what qualifies or disqualifies something as art is all up to you
~ Curtis Cates, from Kristo.art

PS: I don’t subscribe to shows; I add episodes one-by-one when I see interesting episodes via my daily RSS-feed reading.

How things feel

December 11

I have written about this before and it is something I wish to emphasize repeatedly: efficiency and clarity are necessary elements, but are not the goal. There needs to be space for how things feel. I wrote this as it relates to cooking and cars and onscreen buttons, and it is still something worth pursuing each and every time we create anything.
~ Nick Heer, from Delicious Wabi-Sabi

Yes, “efficiency and clarity are necessary elements, but are not the goal. There needs to be space for how things feel.” Hear! Hear!

There are at least three reasons to read Heer’s points. Retro-digital photography is really a thing; the Japanese concept of wabi-sabi (appreciating beauty that is imperfect, impermanent, and incomplete); A bit of hist wondering about software.

It’s the wabi-sabi that got me thinking about podcasting. I’m well-known for cutting the corner when it comes to editing the conversations I record. I’ve always looked at that as a necessity: If I tried to raise the level of quality by editing, I’d not be able to put the episodes out (or at least not as many.)

After reading Heer’s thoughts, now I’m wondering if I’m also—perhaps even more so?—drawn to the wabi-sabi of the conversations with all their blemishes, false-starts, uhm-and-ahs in place.

Really, this book is worth reading

December 9

I mentioned this book previously (in, Driveway Moments). As I read more, it became clear this book is stuffed full of useful information for podcasters. At some point, I’ll get around to organizing some sort of “resources” something-or-other over on the Podcaster Community, and Sound Reporting will definitely go in the “must read” books list for podcasters.

Almost nothing in the book is directly usable… but there’s a ton of stuff—far too much for me to quote—that I found made me think.

To be honest, a lot of it felt like, “yes, I agree” and “yes, I learned that the hard way.” But there was also a lot of “that’s a good idea” and “yikes, now I know I don’t want to do that that way.”

These chapters were particularly fertile ground: Writing for Broadcast, Story Editing, Reading on the Air, Hosting, and Booking. They contains tons of information from the professionals.

Wait, that’s absolutely backwards

December 4

“Do you have any ideas in mind?”

I was talking with someone recently, and they asked me what ideas I had in mind. I described a visual that had recently come to mind for me, and I then, as a followup to that visual, I added a few ideas as single words.

(I’m very intentionally, not being specific here…)

When I finished—it all took but a few moments—it struck me…

Dude, those single words really are the ideas I want to convey…

But that imagery? It’s exactly the opposite of those ideas. That visual is a terrible idea…

Let’s set aside the confusion I may have caused to my friend. (Although, I did point out that I saw the contradiction.)

It seems to me it’s really rare to have a moment of such clarity around something important: If I hadn’t been explaining it to another person, I might have hung onto that visual imagery.

Where are you hanging on to the wrong details?

Where’s the scene?

December 2

Where is the space where you hang out with other people doing whatever it is you do? I’ve mentioned this idea before, for example, Setting and scene. This is something I come back to often because it is really important to me.

And by “space” I mean a physical space, like the proverbial 19th century café with writers talking and drinking coffee. Third places are clear candidates for our scene.

What about virtual third places? All of us know each other virtually, including through various video calls over the years. But a virtual space has to be very special to be a true “scene.” In fact, I’m not sure just how special, and I’m not sure what exactly the features it needs to have…

That’s what I’m thinking about this morning:

What are the special feature of a virtual space that make it into a scene?

Here’s a few I’ve come up with so far…

People :) obviously. We need to know others are there (I see “likes” or a head-count in the video call).
Engagement. We (me, you, the person seeking the scene) need to soak up energy from other people. Yes, even introverts need at least a little bit of interaction, particular in the realm of one’s creative endeavor.
Questions. Questions don’t have to be about getting an answer! “Revealing your questions in such a way points to the shape of the knowledge you are seeking.”
Mistakes. …not sure about this one. “Mistakes” isn’t quite the right word. I’m trying to point at the idea that seeing other people attempt things, and not succeed, shows that the scene is a space safe for experimentation and challenging ourselves.

What else comes to mind?

I don’t often laugh out loud

December 2

But when I do, it usually because of some deeply nerdy, cutting snark. Like this:

As someone who has read thousands of academic papers, I’ll answer those questions as calmly as possible.

NO.
~ “dynomight“, from Please show lots of digits

…and then it goes on, CAPSLOCKed, for several paragraphs. The only thing better than math-nerds, is when a math-nerd who is also a reason-nerd stomps on the vanilla-variety math-nerds. This stuff? This stuff makes the world a better place.

Well, if you’re going to put a fine point on it

December 1

Songs arise out of suffering, by which I mean they are predicated upon the complex, internal human struggle of creation and, well, as far as I know, algorithms don’t feel. Data doesn’t suffer. ChatGPT has no inner being, it has been nowhere, it has endured nothing, it has not had the audacity to reach beyond its limitations, and hence it doesn’t have the capacity for a shared transcendent experience, as it has no limitations from which to transcend.
~ Nick Cave, from Issue 218

Sometimes I read things which are so clear, and right, that I nearly weep on my keyboard. (Yes, oldster, keyboard.) And then… I realize, enduring, suffering, audacity to reach beyond limitations— hey, that’s me! And then, still weeping, but I’m doing it right!

tl;dr: It’s the lack of housing

November 29

So let’s go on a journey in which I will examine the validity of six common claims we hear about homelessness and the solution to our homelessness crisis: housing, housing, and more housing.
~ Noah Smith, from Everything you think you know about homelessness is wrong

“But wait,” I hear you protest, “it’s more nuanced than that!”

Yes, yes, okay, fine. Again, this time with more nuance:

It’s the lack of affordable housing.

And how might we solve that root cause?

Strategy questions

November 27

Seth Godin posted a selection of strategy questions a few weeks back, to coincide with his latest book’s release. I’ve found myself referring to these questions a few times, and wanted to post about it here to be sure everyone had a chance to notice them…

Where will I cause tension? What resistance should I anticipate from others (and myself)?
~ Seth Godin, from Strategy Questions

…just to pick one to quote, to give you a taste.

I’ve been using this list as a primer when I want to think about some project. I’ve found it works in my own head, as well as with other people.

As always, his asking really good questions is a gift; A tremendously empowering gift.

Is there a question in that list which scares you?

What lies ahead?

November 25

For a while, the Movers Mindset podcast’s episodes had opening segments recorded in post-production. They were as you’d expect: Here’s who’s on the show, this is who they are, here are a few things we talk about. This (as you surely know) is a bit of work. In later years—particularly once I was working entirely alone—I simply stopped doing this because, taking the time to do it, stopped me from actually getting the episodes out the door.

LISTENERS CAN’T “SEE” (OR HEAR) WHAT’S AHEAD. When you read a story in a newspaper, your peripheral vision gives you an idea of the stories that surround it. […] On the radio, someone needs to tell you explicitly what’s coming up.
~ Jonathan Kern, from Sound Reporting, p6

NPR has a concept called “billboards” which are short segments, up-front (“58 seconds long, at the top of the hour”) telling you what’s coming.

How do you (if you do) decide what you put on your “billboard” at the front of the show? Do you have goals; list three things, list something for every major turn in the conversation, etc.? Do you use any tools to help you?

Don’t look at that part

November 22

We all struggle with this. No matter what our art is, there are always those bits that everyone sees and those bits that are covered up. And we face the question of how much effort to put into these various parts. It’s easy enough if it’s a hobby and you have all the time in the world. But you need to ship if you’re making a living off your art.
~ David Sparks, from Lessons From an Ancient Craftsman

It’s always good when, as above, I can get any sense of commiseration with other creatives. I had a hard time ever coming to understand I am a creative, and the imposter syndrome for me is eternal. (Also, apparently a shared experience.) Great piece from Sparks about exactly what that quote suggests.

Meanwhile, I’m reminded of something I say often, which comes from my paternal grandfather: When asked his opinion on something, (ala, “How’s that look?”) he’d reply, “A blind man in Idaho would be happy to see it.” This makes no sense, in several dimensions. I have no idea where he got that from. The Idaho bit in particular always made me wonder. He and I were generally in Pennsylvania, so Idaho is a long way away, but oddly specific, while still oddly vague. Where in Idaho? And why Idaho? Maybe Idaho was some Depression-era fake-magical place pushed by con-men and became a stand in for “anyone in Idaho must be really well off.” Because the whole point of the joke is that a blind person would be delighted to see anything. I dunno… maybe it’s a humorous construct because the Idaho part is so extraneous, it feels like it must be important? Really, does that reply mean it looks good, or it’s bad and I don’t want to tell you? I mean, the reply literally does nothing but dodge the question. Or, maybe I’ve just over thought this… for 40 years?

The longest stretch of deserted road?

November 20

What’s the longest stretch you’ve gone, away from your love of podcast creation?

For obvious reasons (in case you missed it) I’ve not been doing much in the way of podcasting this year. The last episode I published was March 28th, 2024— so about 8 months now. I’m at a point now, where I’ve enough health that it would be possible to resume . . .

I miss having the conversations, and I even miss doing the uncelebrated work (which we all know so well!) to get them published. But I don’t miss the grind… that treadmill feeling of always having some next thing that could be done.

What’s stopped you in the past? How did you get back on the bicycle? Why did you get back on the bicycle?

Driveway moments

November 18

The driveway moment: When a report or interview really works, you can tell and we can tell. We can, because the story hits the top of the most emailed list at NPR.org. You can tell, because the story keeps you pinned in your car, in a parking lot, in your driveway, or at the side of the road—as you wait to hear how the story will end. In letters and emails, listeners named these occurrences “driveway moments,” and say they look forward to them, even when it means being late for work or dinner. So that’s your goal: make some driveway moments.
~ Jay Kernis, from Sound Reporting, pg xi

I’m finally heading into NPR’s book, Sound Reporting, and this big of context included by Kernis in the Foreword got me thinking…

What are you doing so that you even know when you’ve put out a “driveway moment?”

It doesn’t matter at all if we feel it’s a driveway moment. It matters if our listeners think so. Are you paying attention to your listeners? Do you have multiple ways for them to connect back to you?

I do think about “driveway moments” when creating episodes. It’s difficult however, given the way that I create my work; They have to simply happen. If one wants to create them, that requires planning, work and editing.

For me, when I encounter a listener (virtually or in real life) the only question I ask them is…

Has any episode grabbed you? …any particular moment or image?

And then I shut up and listen.

Oh, we’re going

November 17

Are we restless and driven to explore, as Sagan says? Will going into space bring humanity together or will we simply bring inequalities and injustices with us? The idea of humans as benevolent explorers sits somewhere between two extremes: those who argue it is our “destiny” to “colonize” other worlds, and those who ask why we’re going into outer space at all.
~ Michael P. Oman-Reagan, from Wandering Among the Stars

We’re definitely going. Whether we like it or not, there are enough of us who are unable to not try to wander outside our little cave and over the next hill, sabertooth tigers or no. I think a much better question is: What have we lost, now that many (most?) of us are no longer in touch with the night sky. My answer: A lot. And if we continue and lose our curiosity entirely, everything.

I’ve had the insanely rare privilege of experiencing the real night sky on many occasions. (For one example, once in a very special place, on a moonless night, Mars cast my shadow.) In all my experiences, I still believe I’ve only glimpsed a part of my human heritage. What would we be like if we all were fully in touch with our heritage?