Jáime les sensation forte
Wind at my back,
ocean waves roaring overhead,
standing in the middle of the storm-cast river running,
&
climbing an old tree in the middle of winter, snow falling.
I like the strong sensation…and here it is, in the weaving of winds,
early morning, the stinging spattering of rain,
in the clouded oysterlight.
Get close, get in, stand near and feel.
There is an explosive roar—and it’s the waves rolling loud and clear, shouting and crashing for attention, on me. Sitka trees sway and shuffle their chattering needles—wind ripping through—riffling their revealing.
The point is, of course this question—what is the reading of the instant?
It’s the strong, close-in, touched, heard, and tasted sensation.
I like finger-toughening gritty textures,
scalding showers, freezing seas, the roasted grit of black-shot espresso, and the acidic tang of tumeric-riven apple cider vinegars. It’s standing barefoot in the snow, and walking naked to the sea on a frozen beach. It’s the ground molecular layers of salt, black and red pepper shavings. On everything, in everything, the strong sensation.
In opening this book of the moment’s momentum, what am I learning, reading, being exposed to it comes to simply this: stand near and feel, lean in and hear, flow with the force,
inhale the fragrance and get your hands dirty.
I can tell you.
It is:
enter quickly—get in, do it, make it happen to you—sense and read all of it, as you can.
I’m not suggesting a sensational speed-read, you can absorb at a pacing that allows contact, involvement, embracement, and the contemplative exhalation of your passage.
You can fear the scale or take courage in the revelation of beauty, light, exhilaration. For you shall be storytelling the next narrative—the soul’s stride to the future.
Fear finds; and a good find could be fear—courage is heart.
But it is about that—reaching-in, being in the plane of sensational being, diving-in to the waves of meaning; risking all for the exposure: because you might sink—if you don’t swim with it.
I’ve been wandering; and other sounds emerge. Like the sound of the pines, rustling. And the grass, it rasps. Stones call a low crunching rolling and rumbling — and the hair on my arms moves like the stroking tendrils of sea grasses, beneath the waves, turning in their flow. Salt comes in my lungs, as fragrance.
Water strikes my eyes, my face glistens with tears of the sea.
And what does all this poetry mean for designers, brands and experience strategy?
Be appreciative.
Be bold.
Utilize feelingness.
Think synæsthetically—interplay the senses. Smell that sound. Hear that taste.
Design for multiplicity of engagement—the one which is the many. You’re creating for one person’s moment, but this expands to the many—one to one, one to two, one to hundred, thousand, million, billion, trillion. But in the beginning, you create for one.
Experience is a sphere, it’s a 360º surrounding—think that way and brand experience, procession, UX become a layered palimpsest of what was, what is, where to, the next.
Co-create. Collaborate. Connect.
Tim | GIRVIN @ West Queen Elementary School
Design for Hollywood | GIRVIN Digital | Built Environments by OSEAN
Surfing | ART | Destination Brands | Placemaking
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By hand with mind and meditation
