The gift of intersections

Apr 19, 2012

It doesn’t matter the work — it matters that you work with care and hard and long and farther and keep learning. Always learn.” That’s my taxi driver speeding toward JFK today as I’m en route to Seattle. He’s telling me his story, as typical for these drives. I look forward to them. Saudi Arabia, hard years in Pakistan (but “most beautiful views”), and for now, New York. Here, he has become spiritual and is studying to be a pastor. But each stop, he’s taken in with open eyes and heart. How did he get here?

There are some things you intersect with. You just know.”

Before flagging down that car, the news that Hillman Curtis passed away reached me. Hillman — generous filmmaker, teacher, designer, bicyclist, Brooklynite — has touched the lives of so many that our exchange is but one. Yet at one point, I am grateful to have shared some space with him. We talked one day of gifts. He revealed he had a gift to bring people together.

I’d always thought how lovely to be on the receiving end of those bringing-togethers, those serendipitous intersections. The playful, the curious, the driven, the learners, the humble, the magical — they all passed through the studio. And too, how lovely it was just to know and intersect with a person with such an enormous breadth of gifts.

The only other time I’ve been to Seattle was with Hillman and project team. Today, as I head there for the second time, I consider open hearts, open eyes, intersections, and the gifts we all have and those yet to come. Thank you, Hillman. And much love and condolences to his family.

Studio view, 2007.

Entrepreneur designers in final form

Apr 16, 2012

The age of noise

Apr 2, 2012

On the Salvador Dali of magic

Mar 13, 2012

Happiness is not a destination

Mar 5, 2012

Risk as feelings thesis

Feb 23, 2012

For spontaneity's space

Feb 21, 2012

Feb 17, 2012

To be a writer I think you’re kind of constitutionally disposed toward optimism.

The discipline of making

Feb 15, 2012

The love list

Feb 14, 2012

We are our own best advisors. Often, the best discovery of myself, then, comes from a serendipitous archeology of my own writing.

Today, as I consider love, I did some excavation on my writing to discover what I’ve loved.

The list:

Pronouns.
Editing.
Being edited.
Pencils.
Experiments.
Superlatives.
Gravitation.
Almost happiness.
Not being sure.
Saying no.
Illogical resolutions.
Boobs.
Stories.
New York. All of them.

I never could have listed these in a single sitting, yet seeing it here — I could not imagine anything else. When in doubt, remember how to do what you love. What is it?




Work

  • W.W.Norton & Company
  • Eye Magazine
  • Theme Magazine
  • Maryland Institute of College Art

About Liz

Danzico is part designer, part teacher, part editor. As an independent consultant, she traces the roots of her craft back to her parents. According to Liz, "Growing up at least a little information architect gave me an organizational advantage over my friends." More