Last night we acquired (thanks, JF) some old-new furniture. It’s waiting in a garage for plans of one kind or another to come through now. It was warm all day; the windows had condensation on the outside in the morning. Apart from the yellow in the trees, you might have thought it was July or August. Errands this morning, nothing interesting. Later J took a nap with Tiny MOT™ and I worked on my lectures. When we came back to the house in Ghent, the gravel outside was soaked, so maybe it rained here. Pouring tonight. We made the best meatballs (400 g meat, a bunch of torn-up old bread, chopped parsley, a bunch of grated hard cheese like Grana Padano or Parmesan, garlic, minced onions, an egg, salt, pepper, bake in oven at 190°C for 40 minutes) with a simple red sauce and spaghettoni.
I remembered how pleasing it is to see something planned (in this case, 111O/6) become real. We printed all afternoon on Friday and Jonathan trimmed and folded and packed today. Working alone I get wrapped up in worry about details. I worry about whether the writers will be okay with how I’ve presented their work. I worry that the magazine’s form won’t merit their writing. I worry about making errors I don’t catch. I worry about being a dull designer. I worry about unintentionally making decisions that leave people feeling cold or unwelcome. I go along trusting my gut and my intuition and my education and my well-trained, hard-working eyes and hands, and still I worry. And then I see the physical object and I am amazed that I can make things like this (things that exist and have some coherence) and I am glad I can make them to support and showcase work I love. And I feel lucky to be able to do it.