‘Please pay now.’
‘Oh-kay…. there you are.’
‘ Welcome to our new place. We just opened three months ago.’
‘Are you from India?’
‘Okay, then…. Switzerland?’
‘Please pay now.’
‘Oh-kay…. there you are.’
‘ Welcome to our new place. We just opened three months ago.’
‘Are you from India?’
‘Okay, then…. Switzerland?’
Researching a pscyhology character’s profession, for a new commission.
The week included much reading, and now, I am learning about gaslighting, difficult people, narcissists, and sociopaths.
This came into my focus…
“A relationship with a person who has no regard for others and is using manipulation to selfishly gain advantages in the relationship should be ended immediately.
… and I wanted to share the full piece. Lachlan Brown‘s article: Here is the link..
If you’re already in a manipulative relationship, it may be more difficult for you to pull away, as sensitive people often have a mixed bag of anger, loyalty, guilt, and insecurity tied up in these relationships. Barrie Davenport, at this post.
Both spell it out about the kinds of people you want to show to the EXIT in your life.
Do it ! It’s so great.
This special set is a project of Design Kompany’s Dipika Kohli.
DK’s new writings from Latvia, made in Rīga, from April-May, 2019.
Honesty, connection, discovery and trusting the process led to the writing, design and layout of these 16-page PDFs. Checkit.
D: ‘… and that’s it. So I think he needs me to be an ocean of calm.’
A: [Laughs uncontrollably]
D: ‘What’s so…’
A: ‘You? An ocean of calm?’
[Developmental psychology professor] Monisha Pasupathi says. If you don’t tell, “your memory for that event may be less flexible and give you less chance for growth.” This is basically the premise of talk therapy.
Just as there are consequences to telling, there are consequences to not telling.
If someone is afraid of how people might react to a story, and they keep it to themselves, they’ll likely miss out on the enrichment that comes with a back-and-forth conversation. A listener “may give you other things to think about, or may acknowledge that this thing you thought was really bad is actually not a big deal, so you get this richer and more elaborated memory,”
Read the full story here >
It started with ‘The Forum.’
Writing with others. In shared spaces.
This was an outtake of the design to talk about that. It wasn’t quite right. It was too… formal. We are not.
We write and talk.
Quietly, asynchronously, internationally. But most important: conversationally.
‘Writing is all rewriting.’
Discoveries. Sharing the things, in the online journal. Attentively. Creatively. And… selectively.
The opt-in conversations are so, so good.
The journal begins. For registering guests, meet me in the online forum.
So many updates.
Posting here about the things posting in the e-post.
This below note is one, I just sent it to my supporters for S P A C E. It has really been fun.
Honestly, I’m not sure how long I’ll keep it going but for now, so far, so good. Sustainability is an issue, as always, but I appreciate the people who appreciate me.
Somehow, I feel a handful of people who have been at this blog, when it was a WordPress site before and now it’s this, following Kismuth from the very start, and who even took part in things here and there ought to be included in this communication. About appreciation. And… since I stopped emailing so much (I know, right? Can’t quite believe it myself, either. But… quality. Means… selectivity. And opting-in. I can’t just keep emailing all over the universe, can I ? That’s quite dull, anyway. The conversation, after all, is what intrigues me. I design for that.)
You can read the comment on the site, but I’ll just put this screenshot here…. click it to see what the context is, the crowdfunding page which, really, is more like a sign up to get S P A C E page, more than anything. ;)
S: You link to your crowdfunding campaign everywhere!
D: [Thinking: You should be glad you were not on my email list(s). Sheesh.]
In the old days I would find pics on the internet that felt like they fit the mood for what Kismuth wanted to say and be. Of all the ones I kept, this is my favorite.
To be sure, self-publishing is sometimes seen as a sign that an author believes in his or her work; for instance, photographer-turned-publisher Max Bondi said that “investing in a project shows that you believe in it”.
Nevertheless, part of the reason for the negative stigma is that many self-published books, particularly in past decades, were of dubious quality. For example, in 1995, a retired TV repairman self-published his autobiography in which he described how he had been stepped on by a horse when he was a boy, how he had been almost murdered by his stepfather when he was a young man in Mexico, and how his ex-wife had clawed his face with her fingernails.
The repairman spent $10,000 to have his 150-page masterpiece printed up, and, for promotion purposes, he sent copies to a local library, to the White House, and to everybody with the repairman’s same last name.
These efforts did not lead anywhere; today, the book is largely forgotten. —Wikipedia on ‘Self-Publishing’
The rain came.
The rain stopped, momentarily.
It was one hell of a rain, just now. And I got stuck at a cafe. I got stuck because it was raining so hard I didn’t want to dash even the less-than-four-minute route it would take to get from that spot to this one, where I am, thanks to the spell of a breeze and some sun.
Meantime, while waiting, I chatted someone up and it was incredibly dull. I mean, really dull. I should probably refrain from even saying that because, well, it’s dull and that’s that, right? But as much as I give out about being the way I am (occasional curmudgeon, fully admitted, and antisocial, etc), the truth is, when four plus days pass, having packed everyone off for their own adventures so as to FOCUS and WRITE SOMETHING, and I haven’t spoken to anyone in real life I get a little… wigged out.
Over at DK for the last 38 weeks, I’ve been writing and co-creating a weekly e-mag, S P A C E. It’s kind of been a labor of love, at first, mostly, but with time and continuations and brute-force figuring it out as I go, I’ve discovered a couple of important things.
‘Hug your kids.
‘Don’t work too late.
‘A lot of the things you are likely spending your time on you’ll regret once you no longer have the time.
‘I’m guessing you have 1:1 meetings on the books with a lot of people you work with.
‘Do you have them regularly scheduled with your kids?
‘If there’s any lesson to take away from this, it’s to remind others (and myself) not to miss out on the things that matter.
—J.R. Storment, ‘It’s later than you think,’ on LinkedIn here. ‘Many have been afraid to ask the details surrounding my son’s death. Others who were unaware of it have wondered why I’ve disappeared. Here is the story.’
Found on twitter, via @LeslieFeinzaig
For the last two years, I took a break from Kismuth and my personal projects.
I wanted to see if I could collaborate.
Like, for real. With new people. In foreign lands. Maybe where I didn’t know anyone. Definitely where I didn’t speak what they did.
I guess I had it in mind that it could be a cool, beautiful and interesting way to see what else is ‘out there,’ and co-create with people I had yet to discover, and learn from.
Idealistic. Idyllic. And totally off.
This was a mixed bag.
I can’t stand blogs that go into the whole, ‘I’m so vulnerable’ and silly jazz like that, so I will refrain. But the short awakening was: I can’t work with too many people, and I know that, and I’ve known that for a long time.
Which. Was why. Of course it was why. I had started here. Writing Kismuth.
People would go, ‘Not everyone has the time and luxury to write and travel, like you.’
But yeah. I’m writing more here now. I’ve put together the new issue of Briefly in Sheffield. I loved this story and how people reacted to the zine version of it, which many of us in design like to think of as ‘prototyping’. Although, yeah. Some people think I want to be a ‘zine master.’
I just want to quickly flesh out a story, print it, let people read it, see if they like it. If they do, ask why. If they don’t, ask why.
What else is there?
A new book.
Coming in October. This is This. Pre-Order (USD $15) here.
I’ve written about Latvia, since so many people asked me to talk about it and share all that I had seen. I know it wasn’t a long trip, but for some reason this particular part of the world really held my attention (and I think my community of readers and acquaintances kind of got that, for some reason).
Since my father asked me a billion questions (okay, like four, but that’s a billion these days, isn’t it?), I’m dedicating it to him… RK :)
You don’t have to wait until October to get a sample of what this is going to read like… I’ve already been sharing bits and pieces of the conversations that I had while traveling in Latvia in these four issues of DK’s e-mag S P C, well not really traveling, but rather, looking for the stories in one spot, for six weeks. (I found quite a few, to be honest, but the best-of selections I will share in this new collection, This is This.
The title story in the seven-chapter eBook is based on a really great conversation I had with someone about ‘what art is’ and ‘what it isn’t’, which we both had to iron out for ourselves and then work into some degree of form which then got obliterated, philosophically and aeshetically, on one rather bizarre evening in the still-light night of 9PM.
We thought we had it figured out. Being super esoteric.
But we didn’t know a thing, and found out in a remarkable and weird moment of awakening to… something wildly unusual, unexpected and jarring in its tenacity.
I wrote about it.
That story itself, that’s the highlight of this new collection.
Every month I write a column for Charlotte, NC-based Saathee Magazine called ‘Kismuth & The Way.’ One of the columns featured Riga. You can find it online: read ‘Drifting into Riga’ here >
I’m really excited to share this. It’s been three years since I published a story here at Kismuth, owing, mostly, to the fact that I had committed two years to do the work at Design Kompany called ‘Atelier S P A C E.’ It took me to Singapore, Finland, Malaysia, Thailand, Latvia, and Slovakia. Read more about that here >
Atelier S P A C E wraps up at the end of September. That’s why this new book will come out in October. Atelier S P A C E helped me learn how to write, but more than that, how to listen. To new people. Sharing. Honest sharing… that’s all we ever do around here, at least, that’s what we do in the books. (Real life: harder, erm. Yeah.) Exclusive writing, new photography, black and white graphic art and other things feature in the new eBook.
Atelier S P A C E, though, was a project that I designed in order to get better at listening. Yup. To doing that. And just that. Mostly. That’s what I would do, I said, because that as where I was lacking skills. So I did.
Go and seek the new and different, in faraway places from those that were known and familiar to me.
Go. Talk to people. Uncover real stories about what they care about, wherever they are, and write them as honestly and in a form that’s delightful to read… at least, to do my best with that intention.
Writers always say their most recent work that’s published is their best. And, well… I feel that way about This is This.
Here’s how to pre-order…
‘You should be writing another book, is what.’
‘What you need to do is not think about the other books, but focus on the writings to come. And get them organized and sorted and put together and done.’
‘Yeah, DK. You’re good at finishing things. Why are you not writing another book?’
‘I’m always writing another book. I just… can’t quite… decide on how to organize the chapters and press print and stuff.’
‘Print isn’t the point. Writing is the point.’
‘You’re right, M.’
‘I know I am. Half of this is mostly me telling it to myself.’
‘It’s usually like that, isn’t it, the best advice?’
‘So now what I have to do is just pick one of the stories and flesh it out and make it happen.’
‘Make. It. Happen. Exactly.’
‘Thank you for this useful tight conversation. It wouldn’t have been possible, though, were we not talking already so adamantly about so very many things for the last four years, in real life. I trust your advice now. I trust that you know me well enough to know what it is I must do. Instead of just offering whatever-general-lalala-advice, you’re giving me something I know is customized for me.’
‘So I’m gonna do it.’
‘Do it. You seem to know how to do that, so do it.’
Rarely on these travels do I have the space, really, to stop and think through what I have uncovered. That’s because it’s too in-the-midst-of-it to grapple with all the many pieces of information, and of course an array of feelings and emotions that also play out, often unexpectedly, in these channels of flux and flow. —Read ‘White Noise’, part of DK’s column ‘Kismuth & The Way’, Saathee Magazine
I was writing about this and other things in a few notes, and sharings, here and there in the conversation spaces that I am part of. Some of them are in real life. Some are online. It’s odd, having so many kinds of ways to connect with people but the thing I am learning is that the texture and quality of that kind of space that I most love doesn’t change regardless of the people or place or medium. We are asking questions, together. That’s the main agenda: to query. To quest. I’m cool with this. Not everyone wants to use writing as a way to pursue new insights, discover one’s way towards meaning. Not everyone wants to use writing like that of course not. I mean, some people just want to write so that people will publish them in fat books that go on shelves that end up unread and dusty, especially these days let’s be honest. But they don’t want ot be honest. They want to be ‘published.’ I don’t know about that. For me, it’s just a way of discovering things. People. Mostly people. Who also want to discover. This is really fun. And yeah. I’m working with some of the people I’ve really enjoyed getting to know, over the course of the last few years, especially, because that is the time that I’ve been focusing the most on developing things with a handful of those whose work I respect and whom I know I can count on. Trust. Reliability. These things, for me, are huge. Solid relationships. Are the footing from which you can make remarkable things. I don’t have time for mumbo-jumbo or wishy-washy. I want. To get. To work. And that’s what I’m doing.
Next: where do you find my article, in a zine form? Because of course you want to see it in a zine. :)
The same story, along with other pieces related to this, are also laid out as a zine, S P A C E | ‘White Noise.’ Find it here, in the online store for S P C. Those stories include graphic art and poetry, plus occasional collaborations with other writer-artist-designer friends. Most of whom I’ve met on the road. Ask me about it, sometime.
IT HAS BEEN A RAINY DAY. I’m writing from Vietnam.
Right: I’m in Vietnam again.
A few people who have lost touch with the things related to the life I am traveling, a wacky vector that gives in to chance encounters and sends itself on new torrents of velocities unimaginable, because of that, kind of like sailing, I think, but yeah, those people who are like, what happened to Kismuth, might be surprised and curious to find that I’m well and happy, albeit a bit damp, here in Hanoi.
The beautiful capital city, of a wondrous country, whose landscapes have grown familiar now to me with more than ten, I think, crossings in and out of the borders.
The life is not the kind of life that you would think you would have, if you were the kind of person who was living in a little apartment at one point, wondering if your mortgage loan thing would come back ‘approved.’ Mine did not, that time, because I have always used cash and not a credit card, and three years abroad before returning to those United States which seem less united than ever, from this distance, well, hell, let’s just say I didn’t get stuck in the lending crisis on account of being insistent on always using the cash in my pocket instead of the thing that is the plastic thing that leads to some arbitrary number in a faraway account. I didn’t like the idea, back then, and I don’t like it now. I’m still a cash only person, mostly. When there’s cash, that is.
The rest of the time I’m, um. Inventive.
Every so often I’ll throw some kind of online workshop or program, and that works out. I’ll be happy to meet new people and discover us talking and then, invite a handful into the forums, on our old blogs, where things got more involved. Guess you could call it discussions. And here we are in August. And I’ just underway with three of them. I’m happy about this. I’m very happy. And the rain is subsiding. And momentarily, I’ll get on another call, this time to talk about things related to the universe, space, time, and mirrors, probably, if last time was any indication. Let’s see.
Here we are again in August. I love how even after all this time, I still think of ‘the end of the summer’ as a chance to reflect, review. And September as a chance to start a new ‘semester.’ Of things related to a themed chunk of things. More about that if you are curious. I’ll be happy to elaborate. Sign up for my new mailing list–it’s not here at Kismuth anymore. I finally decided to get things moving, over at dipikkaohli.com. You can find it at the end of the long series on ‘relational aesthetics.’ If the stuff written there resonates, cool. Add your details and let’s see where the train takes us, next.
A train… to the things to come.
Let’s converse? Let’s play.
THIS YEAR, so far in online projects, things are moving in an interesting direction. A giant overarching theme has been coming into shape. People want to talk together share about really big things related to: love, loss, risk, and chance. I get that. It’s kind of a major attractor for me, this idea of leaping into uncertainty. So we talk together about family. Relationships. Life…. Quality. After testing things for a while, it seems clearer and easier, in some ways, that we can develop really great conversation spaces online. More on the way, for those who are connecting, about the next.