Archive for the ‘Business’ Category

Monday, November 22nd, 2021

“Every institution that was once trustworthy has been debauched to maximize private gain: higher education, science, medicine, national defense — the list includes virtually every sector and industry in America. Nothing can be trusted because somebody behind the scenes is spinning the story and data to mask their self-interest, their immense gains, and the carefully contrived structure of diverting investigation and eliminating transparency, competition, and accountability.
      “The consequences of the drip-drip-drip of moral decay is difficult to discern in day-to-day life. It’s easy to dismiss the ubiquity of artifice, PR, spin, corruption, racketeering, fraud, collusion, and narrative manipulation (a.k.a. propaganda) as nothing more than human nature, but this dismissal of moral decay is nothing more than rationalizing the rot to protect insiders from the sobering reality that the entire system is unraveling and heading for its final reckoning: collapse.”

Charles Hugh Smith, 11/21/21

Friday, January 8th, 2021

“What China actually is (and where the USA is headed or has already arrived) is a form of oligarchic fascism. The capitalist market’s fine as long as it’s my capitalistic market and you’re a member of my party. Communist Party, Democratic Party, what difference does it make? As long as it’s one party and we’re in charge.”

Roger L Simon, The Epoch Times

Glaser’s “Ten Things I Have Learned”

Sunday, June 28th, 2020

You can only work for people whom you like.

If you have a choice, never have a job.

Some people are toxic.
Avoid them.

The good is the enemy
of the great.

Less is not necessarily more.

Style is not to be trusted.

How you live changes
your brain.

Doubt is better than
certainty.

On aging: It doesn’t matter.

Tell the truth.

Milton Glaser
1929 – 2020

Thursday, March 19th, 2020

“There is no precedence for the situation we are facing now. An epic battle of humanity trying to combat a new virus for which there is no cure and still no all clear signal, a global asset price collapse at the end of an aging and highly indebted business cycle and central banks with limited ammunition desperately trying to regain and maintain control. … I think all the excess and reckless monetary policies of the past 11 years are directly responsible for the severity of this crash.”

Sven Henrich @NorthmanTrader

Mar/X Five

Tuesday, March 5th, 2013

My participation in the local Chamber’s Young Entrepreneur (YEA) program touched a bit too much on my growing ambivalence about being the traditional businessman. Why do I yearn so much for the life of the fine artist? Yes, I know it requires practical marketing and sales activities, but I can take what I already know and apply it to a new venture of self-promotion, in contrast to the same 30-odd year challenge of pushing my graphic design capability. I keep saying how much the profession has changed, and indeed it has been profoundly transformed, but I suspect the real issue facing me is that I’ve changed even more.

A tribute . . .

Saturday, February 16th, 2013

(Delivered today at the memorial service for S B Clark, Lexington Avenue Baptist Church, Danville, Kentucky.)

When Dana and I arrived from Ohio nearly 25 years ago, we set about finding a building in downtown Danville. After the memorable experience of our first Kentucky real estate auction, the next thing on our list was to join the Chamber of Commerce. That was the day we met Shirley B. Clark.

She did more than just welcome us. She did more than reassure us that we had chosen an exceptional city. Shirley cultivated in both of us a strong belief that the community needed us as much as we needed Danville. She fanned a flame that would grow and merge with a spirit of community involvement. She had that special capacity, because she knew that the vitality of a community was more than making things happen and getting things done. She understood deeply that the spirit of a community was about people — especially people who believed in achieving something new, whether they got the credit or not, and who thrived on the pleasure of working with others who felt the same way. We saw this in the way she went about her own activities and how she made a catalytic effort on behalf of one organization or project after another — quietly, persistently, with her characteristic unflappable manner, and with her distinctive good cheer.

I’ll always remember her professional introduction to our adopted home town, but I don’t recall a time when I didn’t feel that she was my friend. It was clear from the beginning that she cared about my success as an entrepreneur, as an artist, and as a person who aspired to do well by others and the community. I would not be surprised to learn that she made everyone with whom she collaborated feel the same way.

As the years passed, we locked arms on many volunteer efforts — at the Chamber, for the Band Festival, as members of the Rotary Club, or with what would become, perhaps, our most meaningful shared cause, the Salvation Army. Whenever we put our imaginations and heads together, I came to appreciate even more how much Shirley loved her community, how she could foster that same devotion in others by her example — by how she got results with a steady, practical approach — and by her positive spirit of always trying to do the most good she could in any situation in which she gave of herself.

Shirley and I often shared similar concerns about community issues. Even when the stakes were high, she had a much better way of seeing the amusing side of it all, and this would help me keep things in perspective. I remember lots of comfortable laughter, even if the details have faded, as they usually do.

I remember times, years later, when we would ride back downtown together after a Friday Rotary lunch, discussing current initiatives at the Salvation Army. Then we would sit and talk in my driveway far too long, and, eventually, we’d stop and laugh, because I think we both realized that we’d become pals, and, if left to our own devices, we might gab the afternoon away. Although both of us were clearly out of the loop on weighty matters by then, we enjoyed being together to unravel all the challenges that faced our local economy.

I came to value Shirley’s sound priorities and keen insight, and to respect her as both a caring heart and a very savvy individual. She understood the dynamics of all the types of personalities that make a community tick. She was a marvelously thoughtful person, always full of encouragement, and she had that important trait required of all good ambassadors — diplomacy. In my opinion, her role in paving the way, with executive finesse, for so many constructive accomplishments, is largely unsung. Danville has lost one of its great champions.

Shirley’s regard for our community was rooted in her love of people. We all shall miss her presence. I shall miss her friendship.
 

Shirley B. Clark
1935 – 2013

Resolved . . .

Tuesday, January 1st, 2013

For those who go out of their way to sow seeds of disdain for the customary list of New Year’s resolutions: it’s not about now long it stays viable, or about the resulting success rate, or whether it retains meaning in a culture where overt self-improvement carries a tinge of “fuddy-duddy-ness.” For me it’s about one’s mindset at the cyclical cusp. Is it merely “the thought that counts”? No, it’s more than that. The thought becomes a renewal of self-belief, expressed in line-items of striving. It requires introspection, evaluation, and discernment—hardly fashionable, to be sure. All I know is that they have worked for me at some level, so I’m not sheepish about continuing the practice. I don’t feel the need to broadcast my aims for the year, and listing some of them here hardly constitutes that, since I seriously doubt if a half dozen people still pay any attention to this worn-out log.

• Complete the Barrett portrait.
• Do some form of vision therapy each day.
• Resurrect a more impressive fitness regimen.
• Restore my practice of stretching and meditation.
• Elevate my profile as a collage artist.
• Launch the handmade card biz with Cliff.
• Complete home improvements for an open house.
• Create our first knob-land walking trails at Blue Bank.
• Outperform the market with rules-based trading.
• Produce the first digital version of a Clan Map.
• Boost participation in caring for my mother.

One of the best family weekends ever!

Monday, November 12th, 2012

First we shared a unique wedding celebration with Alyx and Kyle, and then it was up to Ohio for a milestone event with Dan and Sherryl at their farm.

March-Ex VI: studied probabilities on day six

Tuesday, March 6th, 2012

“Success is the sum of small efforts,
repeated day in and day out.”
—Robert Collier

Dana and I completed our second day of training in the routine techniques of high-probability trade design and management. The more I learn, the greater my burning desire to do this every day. Our instructor was a bit on the shrill side, but her command of the subject was astonishing. I’ve been in the presence of very few people who could match her intensity, sincerity, and focused energy. The Investools/AMTD/ThinkOrSwim configuration is a powerful platform for gaining knowledge and deploying skill. It has my full confidence. Donald Draper yelled, “I want to build something of my own! How do you not understand that?”

3_6_2012.jpg

Liberation Day

March-Ex VI: thought about the future on day five

Monday, March 5th, 2012

Life is no straight and easy corridor along which we travel free and unhampered, but a maze of passages, through which we must seek our way, lost and confused, now and again checked in a blind alley. But always, if we have faith, a door will open for us, not perhaps one that we ourselves would ever have thought of, but one that will ultimately prove good for us.
—A.J. Cronin

It was a shock to confirm that March had indeed come in like a Lion, with Lexington getting even more snow than Danville. Crossing the Kentucky River on the Bluegrass Parkway offered a striking scene in the early morning light. Dana and I spent our day in the city, learning new skills in preparation for long life. When somebody moves our “cheese,” we have to shift outside the zone of comfort and make choices about what to change. Donald Draper asked, “Where do you want me to start?”

3_5_2012.jpg

Agenda Items

March-Ex VI: mulled over my fortune on day three

Saturday, March 3rd, 2012

The cornucopia was a symbol of her power to bestow favors, the rudder a symbol of her more sinister power to change destinies. She could scatter gifts, then with terrifying speed shift the rudder’s course, as she watched us choke to death on a fish bone or disappear in a landslide.
—from The Consolations of Philosophy by Alain de Botton

When a client offers deep thanks and writes, “It’s all so professional and mood-appropriate that I’m just in awe,” it’s time to pause and be grateful for my blessings. Broke out the mountain bike, fed the knobby tires some air, and took my first bicycle ride of the season. I saw a barn on Gentry Lane with only half a roof and wondered if that happened yesterday. All the news coming in about the human toll and devastation has me contemplating that thin edge between ruin and relief. Connie Hilton said, “By golly, you are an indecently lucky man.”

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Morning After

Wednesday, October 5th, 2011

He made a big dent in my universe . . .

Steve Jobs

The New Cheese

Wednesday, March 9th, 2011

crocus_strip.jpg

March Exercise —day nine— There is much for me to learn about adapting to the evolving field of graphic design. I simply don’t know yet what it will be like to make a living as a designer during this decade of the twenty-teens. I’ve given most of my creative life to that profession. There are things that I will do to keep pace with changes in the communication arts, but there are other things that I will watch pass by, with no intent to chase. On the other hand, I’ve determined to accept the challenge of learning entirely new skills and frames of reference for an emerging phase of life. I’m not prepared to disclose more about this now, but suffice it to say that I’m currently a couple years into a learning curve that will enable me to generate income in a completely different way. It’s something of which I’ve always been capable, and in which I’ve always held a strong interest, but advances in technology now make it feasible for me to follow my enthusiasm for developing such a new kind of expertise. I should be able to apply these new skills in earnest by the time I turn 60 years old. I expect it to become a vital part of my work-style into later years, and, when fully successful, to provide new levels of creative freedom. In actuality, there is no summer and autumn of life. There is only the promise of perpetual springtime.

Today’s sight bite— The brave blooms of March —c-l-i-c-k— that rear their purple heads when nothing else looks like spring.

Tomorrow— An important observance . . .

Geekhood or Else

Tuesday, March 8th, 2011

cornice_strip.jpg

March Exercise —day eight— When your “cheese” has been moved, it often takes time before disbelief gives way to action, but unconscious denial is complex, and it peels off in layers like sunburned skin. I’ve been slower to adjust in some areas and quicker to respond in others. The core aspects of being a graphic communicator were disseminated into lay culture in such a gradient way that it was too easy for me to believe that people still valued the basic skill set. Which services a customer might now consistently look to the professional to achieve is increasingly more difficult for me to identify. For over 30 years we have scrupulously avoided working “from the hands down,” convincing ourselves that what clients really wanted were concepts. But now that nearly anyone can quickly execute one’s own ideas in an adequate fashion, I’m beginning to think that what most of them desired all along was someone fluent in an esoteric technical process beyond their ken. Question: What shall I do, now that producing graphics is no longer mysterious?

Today’s sight bite— The shapes, colors, and textures of downtown, —c-l-i-c-k— ready to shake off drab winter and preside over another season of human activity.

Tomorrow— Publication design continues to be the counterbrace of my life as a functioning designer . . .

Well, excuse me . . .

Monday, October 11th, 2010

While at the World Equestrian Games, a
lady gave me a dirty look when I tried to
invite her interest in my art and design . . .

as she walked through THE BLOODY TRADE SHOW!

Dixon Design examples

It’s a strike . . .

Saturday, July 31st, 2010

He’s still kickin’If you look closely, that’s the Graybeard Prospector doing a jig around the campsite with his Medicine Woman, cackling, “Paydirt! Paydirt!” Who thought that an old shaft, long thought to be played out, would cough up a hefty nugget when it was least expected? As soon as all the Dosey Doe-ing winds down, it will be time to commence toting sacks of ore into town. And it’s fair to say that the big strike couldn’t have come at a better time.
“Yee-hah!”
 
 

Nagging thumbkin

Thursday, March 25th, 2010

March Exercise V —day twenty-five— I continued to have difficulty with my “phantom thumb” exercise, so I called Mary Ellen to consult. She told me to just set it aside for now and not to fret about it. I suddenly realized how many other things I’d allowed myself to make an object of daily worry, pondering the connection between stress and vision problems. It seemed a good time to walk over to the Community Art Center with Dana and tour the dinosaur exhibit. We saw Nathan M and he offered to provide us the list of economic development conferees. Later, I sipped a cold Leinenkugel and watched the Wildcats secure their spot in the “elite 8.”

Today’s sight bite— Phosphorescent streaks and random geometric perfections —c-l-i-c-k— convincing me that exotic minerals are more fascinating to my current imagination than extinct reptiles.

Previously on M-Ex— It’s a madhouse! (3/25/07)

Tomorrow— Flying solo in the studio . . .

fluorescent calcite

Fixed mundanity

Wednesday, March 24th, 2010

March Exercise V —day twenty-four— I was burnt toast after my 22-miler tonight, making me painfully conscious of my sedentary occupation. But it’s March, when my bicycle legs are rudely punished until I can take 30 miles in stride, with a couple of knobs thrown in for good measure.

Today’s sight bite— Was that the familiar green and brown bag? —c-l-i-c-k— In the ditch? There’s another one! —c-l-i-c-k— My package design for livestock feed appearing as a huge item of roadside litter reminds me that I have chosen to spend much of my life creating trivial ephemera.

Previously on M-Ex— Conservation of energy—more secrets are revealed through focused awareness. (3/24/06)

Tomorrow— Dinosaurs!

cropped package

Thirty two

Wednesday, March 10th, 2010

March Exercise V —day ten— Woke up early with a sore throat, after a feverish, restless night. I really did not want to keep my consulting appointment, but I felt satisfactory once the meeting began. Joan and Mombo stopped by later in the day to deliberate on the topic of a new mattress, but I was a far cry from 100%. All I can do is rest up and aim for a more productive tomorrow. I learned that the Artisan Center wants to purchase three of my wood engravings up front at the wholesale cost. It will be equal to the best price I’ve ever received for one. This is the 32nd anniversary of my first date with Dana. I wish I was feeling better.

Today’s sight bite— The face I see each day —c-l-i-c-k— is the face I shall see forever.

Previously on M-Ex— I do battle with the “inner wimp.” (3/10/07)

Tomorrow— Sitting in local judgment…

young dana

Avian augury

Wednesday, March 3rd, 2010

March Exercise V —day three— This time around, the discipline is less about the rigor of the clock and more about concentration and dispatch. My “vision homework” has become a key daily ritual, but hasn’t locked onto a consistent time yet. I have an alarm hopelessly stuck in my cell phone that nobody can figure out how to cancel, so I think that 11:30 am will likely become the scheduled time. Departure for a lap swim was upon me before I realized the morning was spent, and on my walk to Centre I saw an omen of oncoming spring, high up in my favorite tree at McDowell Park. In the afternoon I learned about a new advertising assignment in the “Jacob Series” for our bank client. Later, at the gathering of cycling advocates, I failed again to conceal my frustration concerning local officials. I’ve lost the fire for all the bureaucratic orchestration that I once found so intriguing.

Today’s sight bite— A treetop speckled with crows against a cotton-ball sky —c-l-i-c-k— and their robust “haw-haw” as the creatures salute me with a propitious fly-by.

Previously on M-Ex— Coffee-shop consultation with a friend no longer so close at hand. (3/3/07)

Tomorrow— Library time in my chambre serein…

The Elusive Red Crow

Various & Sundry, part eighty-four

Thursday, December 31st, 2009

— Year of 2009 workout totals: Swim-43; Bike-38; Run-1; Lift-3; Pilates-16; Lupus Drill-3

— Back spasms and muscle injuries shut down my gym time early in the year, and I never could recapture the momentum. Eventually had to curtail the Pilates work, too, but assigned myself an improved swimming and cycling pattern. Running played no part in the annual effort. My new hope is that 2010 will take on a more balanced character, otherwise my long-held exercise habit could turn into a flab-it.

— An even more regular fitness regimen is on my list of New Year’s resolutions. I also need to:

•   Partake of the great writers—
     Conrad, Hugo, Dickens, plus more Hemingway, Kipling, Tolstoy
•   Gain new levels of skill with hand, eye, and mind—
     Brush Stroke, Graver Line, Digital Effect, Options Trade, Chess Move
•   Spend more time in the knobs with Marty
•   Take Dana to the west coast — somehow . . .

— Another year has passed, and it is ever gratifying to create things which satisfy one’s own artistic urge, while promoting commercial activity that helps provide abundance and livelihoods to others. But, as always, it is never pleasant to continually justify the role of the design professional in an environment of declining visual literacy, where everyone can stand their uninformed, subjective ground to affirm the inappropriate, or declare that mediocrity is “good enough.”

— An unexpected viral assault has threatened my long-anticipated year-end participation in Louisville, but a counter-barrage of immune system boosters is under way, and, so far, I successfully made it to the city intact for the wonderful rehearsal dinner last night. The final day of the year is a bedridden affair, with fifteen back-to-back Twilight Zone episodes to suitably infuse the atmosphere with surreality.

To Caitlan and Kyle— Happy New Year!

V & S

Support and resistance

Friday, October 30th, 2009

“The chief cause of stress is reality.”
~ Lily Tomlin

It’s hard to accept that nearly three weeks have flown by since Dana and I were traveling to North Carolina, bearing the brunt of a devastating tempest that left 35 homes “unlivable” in Casey County (based on information I learned through the Salvation Army). Since that stormy day I had two wonderful weekends with family at both Broadwing and Blue Bank Farms. Carol and Bob are as youthful as ever and at the pinnacle of insight. Shame on me for taking five years to make a return visit. I was delighted to see how they had displayed my drawing of the old barn, and Pete showed off my pen and ink sketch of the Vulcan stove from their early years above the French Broad. I couldn’t help but contemplate the decline in my sketchbook activity over the past year. During my two days at the Hall, I made an attempt to complete work on the rock flue, but ran into mortar problems again while battling Panyon’s tool thievery. My “Son of Dirk Man” character was a bit of a flop, compared to Jay’s Pappy, Mombo’s Rufus, and Clay’s Donkey Kong. Nevertheless, the day was noteworthy for the revival of our Clan Hayride—a “harvest jamboree,” as Joan called it—and also for her tip about Pandora.com. The Council voted to commission an illustrated map of Clan Valley. Wow, how do I come up with an estimate for that? (Lord, help me finish it quicker than my stone masonry!) Dana called me from town to break the news that our friend Irina had been discovered lifeless, the apparent victim of a heart attack. She was a year younger than me! It took four or five days for me to grasp the finality of losing her awesome talent. Early Sunday morning I decided to tote my Hawken-style 50-caliber down the Valley in search of venison. The ache of a gifted comrade’s passing was on my heart when treetops dipped to let the sun pour its precious gold into our beloved hollow. The goal of hunting for meat dissolved abruptly to a deep reverence for the beauty of our rural legacy and my gratitude for life. When I got up to move farther along the road, something caught the corner of my eye. Four good sized does were now moving purposefully across the hay field. Before I could swing my muzzleloader into play, all were into the wooded drainage. If I’d only lingered a minute more, I probably could have had my pick. The following days were tainted with sorrow, but the request to create Irina’s memorial keepsake helped me channel my emotion, although, sadly, the local printer once again seized the opportunity to complain about our predicable attention to detail. By week’s end, the fabulous distraction of sharing Rick H’s 50th birthday celebration was trumped by the news of Glenda’s bizarre mishap at the Haunted House, which resulted in her breaking four back bones. And this comes on top of her and Jay dealing with the aftermath of burst plumbing and extensive damage to their newly remodeled home. The Graybeard Prospector had the second of two successful networking sessions in Lancaster, and Sunday Silence at Simpson Knob was another welcome break, but the heightened oscillation of desirable and undesirable happenings is becoming too strange. All I want to do is immerse myself in the upcoming wood engraving workshop at Larkspur and try to take myself back to a point of quiet equilibrium. Well then, load the truck and go!