Seat 555
Recalibrating how and for whom we work
Today’s train is marked with divinity. Seat 555.
I didn’t know the seats went up this high. In numerology, 555 is the triple-digit sign of major life transitions and shedding the old. Fitting, considering I’m currently recalibrating how—and for whom—I work.
I’ve been playing with numbers since I was young—puzzles, math competitions, solving complex equations while being timed. Since switching to design, the numbers I play with are in feet or meters, typically squared.
This week, I’ve been doing more calculations than I anticipated. Quotes for the Seaweed Suite™ need them. But why must I do the math? Can’t the person giving the quote do the work?
I picked up a new client this week—a project outside Lisbon. They already messaged me at 11 PM asking for a call. This one is going to need boundaries—and I’m ready to set them.
An intern joins us next month. I shared files to prepare them. No confirmation yet.
One of my artisans sends three messages to my one, needing details that typically come later. The cycle of communication is constant—but I’m learning when to step back.
Ah, the joys of the design world. So many dances with people.
Is this what made me susceptible to being a people pleaser?
Working with people is essential as a designer and can be more complex than expected when you consider all the hands that touch an item or feature that goes into a space.
But here’s why it matters: That’s why some spaces feel soulless. It’s actually biological. Humans are wired for haptic feedback; we feel more secure in spaces with natural, hand-worked textures because they have life, unlike the sterile, repetitive deadness of mass-produced plastic. The more hands touch the surfaces of a space, the more life it holds. The more life, the longer the feeling lasts—and it can be revived with more handiwork.
So yes, the people dances are exhausting. But they’re also what makes a space come alive.
But back to the train. You’re likely wondering where I’m going. I’ll reveal the answer at the end of this post—feel free to scroll if you don’t have the patience to read. And a reminder: paid subscribers get a digital postcard from every trip I take. I wonder how many you’ll collect this year…
In this edition:
Lessons from a Former Client
I Want It All… For Nothing (And How We’ve Learned to Navigate It)
Aligned Partnership
