Remember when being online took effort?

Offline Recess is a newsletter that invites you to pause from digital distractions and rediscover the joy of finding inspiration on your own terms, away from the algorithm.

A quick summary: It’s Sunday and today we’re exploring:

• Lazy, supported, or bricked: a tale of 3 phone modes

• Things you can get someone you love that won’t require paying for rushed shipping

• Thoughts on aging as both designer and artist

I did not have anyone edit this so if you see a typo, be relieved that I’m a human and not a robot.

Intersections

things that are connecting during my recess

I had a funny moment the other day where I thought about how being offline is the thing that takes effort and intentionality. And I remember a time where being online was the thing that took effort and intentionality. 

I’ve been thinking a lot about what it means to be offline or the things that we do to help us disconnect. I see it as a spectrum:

Lazy Mode: When I’m scrolling my FYP (for you page), watching whatever YouTube serves me, scrolling any kind of feed, shopping from ads, etc. I am not contributing a lot of thought or intention or ideas to my activities. I’m not saying that anyone who is scrolling this way is lazy. I’m saying that my brain is outsourcing all ideation or original thought to the algorithm. 

Support Mode: When I’m working out, I’m using my phone to watch the instructor. When I’m cooking, I’m using my phone to reference the recipe. When I’m grocery shopping, I’m on Instacart. When I’m talking to my closest friends, I’m texting. Catching up on podcasts? I’m connected to my phone. The activity and idea started with me. My phone is supporting me.

Brick Mode: When I shut down all social media apps (using another app that I pay for…hilarious), when I leave my phone at home or in the other room, when I rely on someone else being connected to their phone to navigate the day (fair? maybe not). When I’m discovering new things and ideas without my iPhone. I get bored in this mode. And then my imagination kicks in.

Over the next two weeks, I’m not going to judge the modes. I’ll just acknowledge them.  

A Gift Guide

gifts for the curious and passionate that don’t require rushed shipping

• Does someone in your life love food? Julia offers online cooking classes. Her latest cookbook has a conversation with her mom about their bodies and it made me cry!

• Does someone in your life love to learn about United States history? Sharon’s book club and membership is one of my favorite ways to learn (only open for a limited time, 3 times a year).

• Does someone in your life love art and occasionally say that they wish they could illustrate a children’s book? Here you go! 

• Does someone you love love vinyl? Gift them a membership to get more!

• Does someone in your life hardly get to see you? Go brick mode when you see them next.

None of these are affiliate links! Just things I’ve bookmarked over the year.

The anticipation of mid life

let’s not forget that aging is a privilege

I read a quote by Barbara Kruger where she said, “I think that designers have an incredibly broad creative repertoire. They solve. They create images of perfection for any number of clients. I could never do that. I'm my client. That's the difference between an artist and a designer; it's a client relationship.”

I have been both an artist and a designer. Sometimes I am actively one and not the other. Although, I don’t think you have to be actively creating at all times to carry that title. Being both is difficult and also helpful. When I am designing for clients, I know it’s not my art. When I make art, I make it because I am my own client.

The average life expectancy of women in the United States is 80.2 (as of 2022). I will be 40 years old in 2027. It makes sense that as I near what could be considered mid-life (if I pass at 80), I grapple with this balance. What will my ratio of designer:artist be as I age? To me, I am a designer by trade. That is my career. But I hope to be an artist until I die.