I’ve just seen someone talking about a website called My Future Self where you write to yourself privately and check back in later — either much later, or just a few months. The potential for encouraging, moving, sorrowful or grateful readings years later is all there, and it seized my imagination in the moment. What a novel idea, I thought. — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

My creative choices for 2022’s annual mailing were a bit different this year. For 2022’s Christmas project I decided, in a break from 20+ years of massive annual mailings, that I wouldn’t post anything — Autumn’s Royal Mail overwhelm, the cost of postage, workload and the strikes led me to…

It needs to evolve. It really, really does. I got quite upset the other day when I got the call to collect a repaired car. It was my sister’s; I’d organised the repair in her absence, and I told the garage she’d settle the bill when she was back from her holiday. But of course, the garage, quite correctly, reminded me it couldn’t release the car without…

Here’s how a conversation went last week about a new book cover.

Our friend and long-term Inkymole collaborator Ed Garland is finally on Instagram, after moving away years ago and becoming Dr. Ed. This is good news. After meeting up with him for a weekend recently, I’ve been thinking of all the projects we worked on together. Obviously I hope there will…

I do a lot of talks and seminars for schools and colleges, and one of the questions I get asked the most is “how important is it to have a ‘style’?” — followed by “how long did it take you to get your own style”? My answer to this is not straightforward. Have a quick scan down the sample images in this post — they’re all from the same period of about 7 years, from graduation onward. You can see what was going on; I’d graduated with a portfolio of wildly ambitious 3D work, built…

My sleep disruption began many months ago as a product of, I think, a combination of pandemic, work anxieties, and a major hormonal re-wiring (the whole dashboard out, y’know the kind). I would get to sleep just fine, but wakefulness would boot me out of my slumber every single night…

My university tutor, colleague and leader of the degree course that set me on my path, Bal Nandra, died on Monday morning. That’s him leaning on the railings, big watch, big glasses. I write this with still-surprised eyebrows, because it doesn’t seem like enough time has passed for this to…