When the world feels overwhelming, my bass guitar offers a retreat into a world of rhythm and melody that’s uniquely therapeutic. Each time I pick up my bass, the tactile sensation of the strings and the vibrations shift my focus away from daily stresses. It’s as if the bass allows me to leave behind the chaos of the outside world. The simple act of playing a few bass lines or riffs helps me stay grounded.
The bass guitar is a canvas for creative expression. When I improvise, explore new patterns, or compose new pieces, I’m engaging with an interplay of patterns and structures. Each note and rhythm offers a new opportunity to explore unconventional patterns and progressions. This process of exploration not only fosters a deeper understanding of music but also enhances my creative problem-solving skills, making each session an adventure in innovation.
One of the most zen aspects of playing the bass is its ability to facilitate a flow state—a mental zone where everything else fades away, and creativity flows. When I’m in the groove, the connection between my mind, the instrument, and the music becomes one. The bass guitar acts as a pathway to creativity, enabling me to explore ideas that might otherwise remain hidden.
Design Journeys or Design Destinations
In a recent lecture by UK designer and educator Paul McNeil, the contention that ideas might not be as crucial as we believe them to be took center stage. McNeil posited that systems, process, and intention hold far more weight in design practice. While initially resistant to this concept, as I am a loyal advocate of the "big idea first" school, I couldn't help but find myself intrigued by McNeil's argument. And as it turns out, I was impressed with the merit of McNeil's perspective.
McNeil's emphasis on process highlights the importance of deliberate approaches to design. By prioritizing the journey over the destination, designers can cultivate a deeper understanding of design nuances, refined outcomes, and even make chance discoveries along the way. Similarly, his emphasis on intention illustrates the significance of a purpose-driven design approach.
While I remain rooted in the belief ideas are the catylists for successful story building, many valuable insights can emerge from empirical design observations, shedding light on patterns and motifs that may have gone unnoticed. In embracing a more holistic approach to design that utilizes ideas and processes, we stand to unveil new workflows elevating both design quality and outcomes.
Love and Pain: The Unfolding Tragedy in Palestine
In a world filled with beauty and heartache, the depth of our emotions often defies what we are supposed to feel when we picture the dropping of 2000-pound bombs, munitions posing imminent threat to civilians. The gut-wrenching reality and the pain we feel is real when witnessing the suffering of women and children. At the core of this reaction lies a powerful force: love.
Love, in its expansive and all-encompassing nature is rooted in courageous compassion, is not limited to romantic ties. It extends to our shared humanity, a connection that transcends borders, religions, or differences. When we see images of mothers shielding their children from harm or families literally torn apart by conflict, it's love that intensifies our empathy.
The love we feel for our own friends and families becomes a universal thread, allowing us to empathize with the pain experienced by families halfway across the globe that may not look like us. The innocence of children and the resilience of mothers strikes a chord within us, awakening a sense of responsibility that stems from our shared human experience.
Our love is a deeper love. It's the love for a world where every child deserves safety, where every mother nurtures her family without fear. This deeper love is a testament to our shared aspiration for compassion, justice, and peace where the dawning of the morning sun presents infinite possibilities for a more harmonious future.
Goodnight Summer
As the days grew shorter and the shadows of autumn began to stretch their fingers across the sidewalks, we knew that the end of summer was near. I’ve always reveled in the simple joys of beach getaways, finding solace in the timeless rituals of saltwater waves and finely coarse sand spread across a beach towel.
This getaway felt different perched atop a 3rd floor balcony with a panoramic view of Galveston bay. The sunsets over the bay were like abstract masterpieces, each evening painting a vibrant interplay of reds, oranges, and violets. After the setting of the sun we gathered on the balcony, sipping chilled beer and savoring plates of fresh seafood.
Our days were filled with laughter and adventure as we explored the nearby boardwalk, Pleasure Pier, a relic of a bygone era. My son’s boisterous giggles filled the air as he rode the merry-go-round, his face warmly lit with the joy of summers’ last moments.
The crowning jewel of the boardwalk, standing like a proud giant, was the Ferris wheel. As the sun dipped below the horizon, we boarded the modern reassuring gondolas, our hearts despondent with the knowledge that the end of summer was upon us.
As the Ferris wheel slowly ascended, we gazed out over the shimmering bay, the lights of the town twinkling in the distance. Amongst moments of quiet reflection, we savored the fleeting moments of another gone by August.
Holding hands, sharing the unspoken bond of love and the tradition of highway adventures, we cherished the simple pleasures of a beach getaway, seafood combos, potent margaritas, and the eternal beauty of large undulating water masses.
IIn that fleeting moment, we understood that while summer may end, the embrace of family and the charm of the seaside would beckon us yet again in another season, not so different from the eternal waves kissing the shore, each one stretching just a little bit beyond the last.
Building a Bridge: The Path to Shodan
Test time brings a whirlwind of thoughts, especially for those who have faced the sting of failure before. Beyond assessing skills, the real question lies in measuring one's determination and the intensity of the inner fire. This was my contemplation as I embarked on the 1st kyu Aikido test.
Spread over three nights, the format brought physical demands but alleviated the mental pressure of a single chance. My strategy was to maintain a steady pace, relying on a positive mental attitude. However, after a strong start, doubts surfaced on the second night, testing my resolve.
The third night saw a resurgence. Facing challenges with knife defense and staff attacks, I aimed for internal calm. The unexpected twist came during the results – not 1st kyu, but Shodan. A 14-year journey of dedication unfolded, bringing pride and a sense of belonging to something bigger than myself.
Yet, post-goal blues and a mild sense of shame followed. Shodan, meaning "beginning degree," signaled a new phase. Beyond technical exploration, it urged weaving Aikido into daily life and walking a spiritual path. The journey, dedicated to my wise mentors, continues, lightening the load with each step.
Originally penned in 2013, this essay captures a transformative chapter in my martial arts odyssey.
“When one is under sound attack one must die, and yet live, from moment to moment. It is in momentary living that one is free from distraction…”
–– Thomas M. White
Tales of A Car Crash Survivor
Car crashes can be incredibly traumatic experiences that leave lasting scars. But for those who survive, a new story begins. I’ve often found stories of survivors inspiring and encouraging but I never thought I would be writing one myself.
On March 2nd, 2023, my son Ethan and I were involved in an intense car crash. We survived the impact of an F-150 Ford truck. Our car was propelled 2 lanes over and parts of my car were strewn across the road. I suffered a semi-severe head trauma and a concussion but miraculously my son and I walked away from the wrekage. And remarkably, I’m back working less than 2 weeks later.
The story of surviving a crash is a powerful reminder that life isn’t guaranteed and every day is a gift. In fact, it’s possible to not only survive but embrace life in a new and meaningful way. It’s also a reminder that life can be full of second chances.
Just Say Yes
On the morning of November 18th, I was listening to La Power 105.3 on my way to work. I sometimes listen to Spanish radio stations to keep my ears sharp in hopes of returning to my previous status of being 100% fluent in Spanish. In days past, I was a semester abroad student and earned a Minor in Spanish Literature. While my Spanish is not what it once was, I’m still able to communicate. The female announcer mentioned that the first 10 callers who could identify a country that has 3 letters A’s in the name would win an all-expenses paid trip to Cancun or the Dominican Republic. Keep in mind I’m driving so I need a stop light to dial the number. I ended up being caller number 6 and my answer was Canada (at the moment I couldn’t remember Nicaragua or Panama). Long story short I won. But there was a mental exercise I had to go through in a matter of seconds to convince myself that I deserved to win and that the possibility of winning was worth the effort of my fumbling fat fingers punching down on my iPhone screen. So often we say no when we should be saying yes. Whether it’s the expectation of low probabilities or our own imposter syndromes that shut us down it pays to stay open to possibilities and take a risk. Rise, Invite, Smile, Embrace, and Kickass. Take the risk. It’s worth it.
Another State of Mind
I miss New York. I miss that every day is an adventure and that life is a cross between an odd treasure hunt and simultaneous evolution of the olfactory, visual, and auditory senses. Sometimes heavenly, sometimes objectionable, but always decisively different.
And around every corner is either the most unexpected and bizarre thing you ever saw or the most sedate urban facade eclipsed by a street corner dance battle or temporal art installation that somehow infers nothing and everything.
I miss East Village bookstores with tag lines like 18 miles of books. I miss the casual musicians playing on the subway platforms. And I miss the condensed arts and culture experiences that no other city I’ve been to replicates. There are approximately 1,400 art galleries in New York City.
I miss stumbling into those unexpected green spaces in the middle of the city that provide a perfect respite from the concrete jungle. I miss the winter sun casting long shadows, warming my hands with single-origin coffee, and imagining what I will create next.
The Attitude of Gratitude
I met a lady in Portland, Oregon, who had an indescribable zen quality that words just won’t accurately capture. Hidden under the serene composure of a weekend tourist were the emotional and physical scars that were gathered but not sought after.
She slowly began to tell me her life story or a part of it anyway. She had been a severe addict binging on a cocktail stew of crack and methamphetamine. Years earlier, her life hit such a low point she hexed to do sexual favors in the windswept doorways of San Fransisco in exchange for the thing she needed most: a fix.
I tried not to judge her brittle past because I knew intuitively we are all more alike than not. We have all been addicted to something in our lives and for everyone it’s different. It could be cars, money, status, gambling, wine, sex, caffeine, doughnuts, or chocolate.
She relayed how she finally gained the determination she was no longer willing to play the victim. Transforming her life from a street tweaker to a life of decency was no easy feat. Anybody who can turn their life around from those brutal circumstances should be applauded.
It was a bright sunny day overlooking a small lake in the Lan Su Garden. “You’ll get everything you want when you want everything you have”. I really tried to grasp a definitive answer. I said I understood but I later realized I didn’t fully understand her point. My takeaway was to embrace life on the spectrum wherever you are.
Now I get it. You’ll get everything you appreciate when you appreciate everything you have. Appreciate both the sweetness and the bitterness. We can learn from everything in our path. Stumbling blocks can be turned into stepping stones leading to higher ground. Note to self. Be present. And be thankful.
Home is where you make it
There was a nagging voice inside my head. What if you traded everything you know for everything you don’t? What if the barrage of place options was on the table for discussion. What if we left the green mountain coffee haven of Portlandia for those fly-over towns in the Midwest.
No longer an affordable paradise, the suffocating prices of Portland, Oregon, had us looking for a jettison. The Midwest came on our radar after reading a Money Magazine article about Columbus, Ohio. Despite the frigid winters, I can honestly say the Midwest is not a terrible place to live.
You never know until you try. Starting over is never easy, but neither is living in the heels of regret. So I moved my whole family to Toledo, Ohio. We met some great people. We drove down country roads with the windows down with nothing but cornfields for as far as the eye could see.
But then there’s the cold. Let’s just say that negative 8-degree weather is not for the faint of heart. I remember going outside with 3 layers of clothing and a formidable Columbia down jacket and the protection was minimal at best. It’s so cold you second guess leaving the house. In the end, we needed more art, more diversity, more options, more music, and let’s be honest, more opportunities. So we moved again. This time to Houston, Texas. We’re looking to take advantage of everything that Houston has to offer. One thing I do know. No place is perfect, and we are all responsible for our own happiness. But living in a world-class city doesn't hurt either.
Where do we go from here?
If you feel like you are floating between 2nd shot optimism and utter freak out anxiety, rest assured you are not alone. And if you have small children, you might be even more cautious about how you choose to enter spaces outside your home.
The health of our country is only as good as our vaccination rate. We are just over 50% (nowhere close to herd immunity).
The host on NPR this morning asked the Johns Hopkins Medicine researcher: when do we change the language from Pandemic to Endemic? My heart dropped out of my chest. Most pandemics historically have lasted 2-3 years before leveling off. But the burdensome and abrasive truth is nobody knows.
It might be grounding to consider the good things that have come from the Pandemic. Work at home can be successful and has proven even more productive than anyone ever imagined. Even the bean counters have to admit things are getting done.
And after traditional theater sales have all but died, streaming entertainment has become a financial lifeline for the arts and the added value lifting many organizations. Streaming theater tickets range from $17-25. There is even live streaming content from a studio apartment in New York called Theater in Quarantine.
For every problem, there is a solution. Be the solution. I’m working with friends to launch a vaccination campaign ‘Life’s better vaccinated’ in September.
Perception
Being forced to Isolate feels like a punishment as if we were paying a collective karmic debt for something we did to the planet. But maybe it’s an opportunity. An opportunity to slow down, to watch our breath and more importantly, to watch our thoughts. Maybe we’ll have more respect for the noble doctors, nurses, truck drivers, grocery market workers and first responders. Maybe we’ll begin to see healthcare as a much needed human right rather than the complex motive driven cycles of deductibles and copayments. In the stay-busy lifestyle of the grind, we look but we don’t necessarily see. I don’t want to downplay the very real horrors and losses of this Covid 19 pandemic crisis, of which there are many, but I’m also thinking this could be a reset. This reset could be the blossoming perception that we are all more connected than any of us ever imagined. As an unexpected bonus, I’m seeing my family more than I have all year. There’s more random disagreements, but there’s also more space for jokes and laughter. And laughter is cathartic. Sometimes it takes a crisis for us to recognize how connected we really are and the beauty laid bare before us.
A Blessing for Difficult Times
May you be safe and kind to everyone. May every one you love, be safe and kind to everyone. May everyone THEY love, be safe and kind to everyone, in widening circles all across the universe.
– Dennis Rivers
Fire Story
From the beginning of time, we’ve been drawn to some of the same things. The warmth of a fire, the intrigue of a story and the security of a group. Fire gave us comfort, stories gave us metaphors and being part of a tribe gave us security.
Today’s fire might be in the form of a song, a moment, or a movement. The stories are often communicated through the eyes of a character, a video or a social narrative. And, security is our quest for a more sustainable future.
That future asks us to enter deeply. Deeply enough to see beyond the walls we’ve constructed. Deeply enough to open up dialogues, and far enough, to explore the infinite possibilities we are all worthy of.
Possibilities multiply by building connections between people, passion and purpose. These connections speak to our underlying motivations. Motivations that drive us forward, expand our experiences and answer our biggest challenges.
Build a fire. Tell a story. And, inspire what happens next.
Anatomy of a Healthcare Brand
I had the rare chance to brand a vital healthcare program and collaborated with The Kaiser Center for Health Research to launch the PROMPT program—a national initiative aiding high-risk patients with diabetes and cardiovascular disease. The program utilized welcome letters, brochures, outreach calls, and a tailored website. The ultimate goal: imbue a friendly persona, improve medication adherence, and enhance cardiovascular therapies.
Balancing uniqueness with strict Kaiser guidelines was challenging. I developed a framework around a healthy heart and a ringing phone motif. The branding materials were implemented across key channels: call and response messaging, educational materials, welcome letters, FAQs, heart reports, brochures, and UI design.
The pilot program was tested in Northwest, Hawaii, and Georgia regions, PROMPT showed improved medication adherence in a clinical trial funded by the Agency for Healthcare Research and Quality. Automated reminders led to increased refills. Published in the American Journal of Managed Care, the results promised fewer heart attacks, deaths, and hospitalizations—a significant public health impact. In healthcare, clear and trustworthy branding is crucial, bridging rational decisions and emotional connections to create meaningful engagement and results.
Juniper Branches
I had a desperate calling to reconnect with nature. This is the kind of calling that prioritizes putting your toes in the sand, swimming to the middle of inlets and gazing at water and mountains for hours at a time searching for the truth.
Within this meditative analog state I could be whole again, complete in a way that computers and digital advances can’t imitate. This is the kind of wholeness I was searching for, the calm abiding peace hidden within us all. A peace that supersedes egos, fears and borders.
As the wind blew through the juniper branches caressing my face I could hear the song of the raven, Its poetic phrasing enlightening my senses and reminding me to be present, perceptive and open.
My Humble But fascinating Story
I wasn't obsessed about any one subject enough to be a geek. Instead, I identified as a Blerd (Black nerd). Prior to delving into design, I was a skinny punk rock skateboarder who relished questioning the status quo, listening to reggae bands like Steel Pulse, sketching in my notebook, and seeking solace in the Angeles Crest Mountains to escape the brutality of the Los Angeles smog.
My prowess lay in art, which unexpectedly translated into success in math, particularly excelling in geometry exams. Proficient in spatial dimensions and deductive reasoning, I possessed a knack for visual thinking and a rich imagination, propelling me towards a career in design.
Upon completing my undergraduate studies in illustration and Spanish literature at Long Beach State University, I secured approval for a specialized study abroad program at The Instituto Allende in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico. Returning, I enrolled in a visual communications class with Archie Boston, a notable African American designer and educator.
At Pratt Institute in New York, I embraced the philosophy that designers serve as cultural innovators, shaping awareness and engaging with the world through analysis and creativity. Graduating with a Masters in Communications Design, I honed my creative voice and problem-solving skills. Subsequently joining The Moderns, a creative think tank in New York City, I delved into modular design and solutions-based thinking.
Transitioning to Gregory Mountain Products as the resident art director and designer, I conceptualized national advertising campaigns, rebranded the company, and refined retail design strategies, emphasizing fit, quality, and durability. At the time, REI praised our point of sales product marketing as best in the industry.
Eventually I founded Be True Design, a brand design consultancy focused on health and wellness communications. I leveraged my experience as an art director to create cohesive branding solutions for clients like Imagine Health, Big Brothers Big Sisters Northwest, and Kaiser Center for Health Research. My approach centered on strategy, clarity, and information accessibility, ensuring clients achieved the branding outcomes they wanted.