Today was the second installment of our weekly lunch sessions here at MINE™, where we discuss inspiration and whatever else is on our minds. Christopher set the theme of today’s conversation – designer monographs. As we passed around examples of books that we loved and hated (and more often a combination of both) – I began to consider the dilemma of how a firm goes about representing itself. It’s an odd situation when your business is based on providing a service to others and it comes time to provide the service to yourself. An issue that I felt with many of the monographs were that they felt either rigid and calculated or careless and self-indulgent. My favorite of the books was Cahan and Associates’ I Am Almost Always Hungry. Not necessarily because of the work included  (although it is nice), but the scope of material, both structured work and “why not” moments. Found objects, snapshot photography, full spread type. It felt alive and personal and immediate but also presented the goals and attitude of the firm.

An issue I’ve been grappling with for a long time is the balance between designing for designers and designing from the gut. And I’m finding that it’s an issue students and professionals alike confront on a daily basis. I’m constantly questioning the choices I make when designing something or even when thinking about design in general. The broader question is whether to abide by the rules that have been established and upheld by your predecessors or to make things because you feel it boiling in your gut. Basing your decisions on your raw, brash instincts. Usually the best work comes from a masterful balance of both.

I’ve heard time and time again throughout my education at CCA that you have to learn the rules to break them – and a part of me feels like that’s a very “designer” way of looking at the debate. Something that Massimo Vignelli would say from behind his spotless modernist desk and Eames lamp. Designers have this deep-rooted desire to justify every choice, and to lean on reasoning rather than raw feeling. The grunge movement in the 90s sought out to destroy that notion but even the anti-establishment, kick in the throat approach popularized by David Carson, Emigre and the Cranbrook Academy has become a commodified visual language endorsed by “edgy” Reebok campaigns and MTV culture. So where do we go now? Where does a student go to become inspired by something other than annuals, fancy import books or hip blogs?

I find myself looking more and more for inspiration outside of the design world as my education nears it’s end. In a lecture Stefan Sagmeister gave at the 2004 TED Conference he spoke about the moments that stood out in his life when he realized he was truly happy. The story that always stands out in my mind is when he spoke of listening to the brand new Police album (1983’s Synchronicity) while piloting his brothers motorcycle through the mountains of his hometown in Bregenz. The design of the Yamaha motorcycle, the Police cassette tape and the Sony Walkman certainly did contribute to the wonder of his experience while speeding through the mountains, but it was ultimately his emotional connection to the setting, the freedom of the open road and his willingness to let go of the rules that allowed all the elements to define the experience as one of his “happiest”. Maybe sometimes we just need to get out there and ride.