Christowski Blog

After a couple of years and after writing this blog for over 12 years, I am saying Good Bye to Tumblr as a blogging platform. After this post, I won’t update this website anymore.

I started this blog as a teenager in 2006, and moved it from Wordpress to Tumblr after a while because it was a promising community, great platform und perfectly easy to customize. None of these things have changed, I still enjoy posting and writing on this platform. But after they introduced the horrible privacy overlay which basically prevents every user to visit this blog unless they see posts in the dashboard, I was longing for a more independent way of publishing. So I took the chance to move some of the recent posts (from 2013 on) to a new Wordpress blog. It’s all easier now.

Follow along: christowski.de/blog

I might delete or at least password-protect this site soon, so get your RSS readers ready and add this URL: https://christowski.de/blog/feed

Auf dem Rathausplatz lesen vereinzelt junge Leute laut aus Büchern vor. Einige Passanten stellen sich daneben und lauschen. Wir sind zu scheu. Die Gruppe junger Leser wird uns im Laufe des Abends noch öfter begegnen: Wie sie in einer Gasse an uns vorbei läuft und alle auf einmal die Arme heben; wie sie sich in der Einkaufsstraße zu einem Musiker stellt und improvisiert tanzt.

Seit einigen Wochen bin ich besessen von einem Track der Band Superfood, der in meiner Spotify Weekly Playlist landete, und der die berechtigte Frage stellt: Where’s The Bass Amp?

Max Raabe – Fahrrad fahr’n

Manchmal ist das Leben ganz schön leicht Zwei Räder, ein Lenker und das reicht Wenn ich mit meinem Fahrrad fahr' Dann ist die Welt ganz einfach Die Autos steh'n im Stau ich fahr vorbei Alle Ampeln grün, die Bahn ist frei Wenn ich mit meinem Fahrrad fahr Mitten durch die Stadt

Sieht man von einigen Nebensächlichkeiten wie den heruntergekommenen Häusern, den Massen an nicht abgeholtem Sperrmüll oder den hässlichen Neubauten ab, ist Neukölln tatsächlich wie ein junger Prenzlauerberg-Szenebezirk. An einigen Orten wird das ganz besonders deutlich: In Biomärkten zum Beispiel. Es gibt hier im Bezirk immer mehr davon, und sie sind der Hauptmagnetpunkt für junge Familien, besonders Mütter (den ehrlicherweise wird auch in den meisten jungen, conscious Bio-Familien das klassische Familienmodell gelebt).

Ich muss deshalb mal kurz etwas über Biomärkte loswerden. In vielen Aspekten (abgesehen von der Tatsache, dass ich gerade weder Ehe noch Kinder habe noch will), entspreche ich total dem Biomarkt-Klientel. Ich versuche, möglichst verpackungsarm einzukaufen (klappt weniger gut); wenn ich die Wahl habe, greife ich zu regionalen Produkten, etc pp. Ich bin kein besonders erfolgreicher Öko, aber ich gebe mir Mühe.

Samstag Vormittag laufe ich also durch Neukölln, um ganz yuppieesk meine Errands zu erledigen – ich bringe die leeren Milchflaschen zurück, die man nur in diesem Laden kaufen und abgeben kann. Natürlich ist am Samstag viel los dort – alle müssen ja ihre Errands erledigen, das haben wir auf dem Land von unseren Müttern so gelernt. 

Und hier ertappe ich mich dabei, wie ich mich in meinem selbsterwählten Lifestyle furchtbar nerve; und wie mich alles daran und drumherum nervt. Biomärkte sind oft sehr klein – aber die Biofamilien kommen nicht allein: Sie bringen ihre Lastenräder mit, und ihre Fahrradanhänger zum Kindertransport (ein Konzept, das mir auf den ruppigen Berliner Straßen bisher sowieso unangenehm ist), und die müssen durch den Bioladen gekarrt werden. Ich bin absolut für Lastenräder, denn das heißt, dass man nicht im SUV die Straße verstopft – wieso also haben Bioläden anstatt der pseudogemütlichen Cafés, in denen niemals jemand sitzt und Pastinakensuppe für acht Euro schlürft, nicht einfach einen Parkplatz für diese sperrigen Vehikel? Nur so als Idee.

Außerdem sind im Biomarkt alle Menschen sehr langsam. Das kann man ihnen natürlich positiv anrechnen – die Leute hier sind nicht so alltagsgestresst; hier geht man es ruhig an und lässt sich Zeit, um Kundinnen und Kassiererinnen ein Lächeln zu schenken. Aber ich, der als Zehnter mit seinen fünf Milchflaschen in der Reihe steht (mehr darf man nicht sammeln, es gibt nämlich kein Pfandlager; alles sehr beengt hier!), vermisse in diesem Moment die Effizienz meiner REWE-Kassiererin. Sie ist freundlich und schnell – und damit dem Bioladen um einiges voraus.

I am at a conference about the internet and mental health. It’s a one-day event and I only bought a ticket because I wanted to hear Katrin Passig and Felix Stalder share their ideas on how the digital transformation influences our brain, our behavior, and how our society handles the “New”.

As the speakers discuss the meaning of digital endorsements and interaction (such as “likes”, “favs”, comments, etc), an older man in the row in front of me leans in to his neighbor: “I’ve never liked anything in my entire life”.

That sentence stuck with me more than any of the talks or discussions. As an active participant in social media, of course I cannot imagine that someone never “liked” anything. What’s not to like! But out of context, the sentence is deeply saddening. Imagine this elderly person, sitting in a darkened conference room on a sunny day, leaning in to his seat mate, with a cold coffee in his hands, confessing: “I’ve never liked anything in my entire life”. I’m glad that the internet preserved me from this nightmare.

I have liked and still do like quite a bunch of things in my life. Recently, these albums and playlists, for example:

1) Baio – The Names (Spotify link). Chris Baio, known as the bassist from Vampire Weekend, makes cheerful indie pop music, and I especially like his album covers and this remix album (Spotify link).

2) Young Fathers – Cocoa Sugar (Spotify link). I know, I’m late to the party, but after their track Shame has been my workout soundtrack for MONTHS, I was looking forward to a new album—and it’s great!

3) My friend Martin publishes really well-curated playlists on Spotify. Check them out! My current favorites: “Charlottenburg Nord“ and “Hits zum Vergessen”.

I don’t want to write too many words on this, because I am about to ask you to read this blog post by Frank Chimero. Read it entirely, read it thoroughly. He composed a list of all the things he learned about productivity, and actually, about general happiness as a workaholic. It can pick you up. For example, he suggests:

Dump your brain on to a sheet of paper—every single thing you could hope to do in the next 3 to 4 months. Then, look at your task list. Have the author sign each one. Did you write it, or was it fear, that nasty tyrant in your head? Cross off anything written out of fear. Listen: some drudgery is unavoidable, but you’re living your one and only life. You get to drive; no bullies at the wheel.

… And after a while, Frank comes back to that sheet of paper:

(…) Many of the things you thought you needed to do in the next few months were left undone without noticeable consequences. Perhaps now you can now cut their weight. “Goodbye, heavy friends. Maybe someone else will give you the attention you need.”

Being Lonely Makes You Special / But Being Special Makes You Lonely Too

As we’re jumping into the moving van, Felix asks me to hold a bag of medical supplies he brought from the hospital. Tubes, syringes, needles, disinfectant spray, all packaged separately in thin plastic bags. What’s that for, I ask. Felix’ friend—a doctor, too—was going to start his first job next week, and Felix promised to help him practice injections and blood sampling.

The way he handed me the bag with supplies was very casual, but I felt weird and—all of a sudden—very useless. When I help my friends and colleagues with work stuff, it’s usually about color choices, or whether the copywriting of an input field is clear enough. It doesn’t have any relevance at all. Whereas Felix, he f-ing helps friends take blood cells out of a body to put them into a laboratory to check them for diseases, and to actually cure them.

The whole tale that “Design can change the world!” has already been demystified a while ago. Another poster won’t save the world, nor will another app, or another chair, or typeface. Design does have the ability to make things better, but looking at our world full of over-designed products and services, it hardly ever is executed in a way that it does so. Design is often used to make bad things look better, and through that, it multiplies its negative impact. To be honest, that sometimes make we want to quit design altogether.

On the other hand, I am very lucky to work with people who are striving to use design for the better. Maybe that’s also because I waved goodbye to the startup world quite some time ago, and I try to work only with people and companies who I find relevant and/or pleasant as human beings (not only as colleagues). No bad vibes are worth the money, especially when you decided to make your passion your job.

Other stuff:

1 — Words: I’ve read a couple of good essays recently. In The Good Room, Frank Chimero explores the missing soul of our digital environment. A while ago, James Bridle wrote about the disturbing loopholes YouTube’s algorithm creates. And I love Jean Hannah Edelsteins newsletter “Thread”. Pre-order her book if you enjoy her writing, too.

2 — Pictures: I created a meme-inspired “starterpack” about my personality. Check it out here and make your own—I’d be curious!

3 — Life Hack: I unfollowed everyone who calls theirself “influencer” on social media and posts tons of ads. It just makes the web a shitty place. Please stop it.

4 — Lesson learned: Negative people are not worth your energy. It’s okay to stay away from them.

So, I helped Felix move last month. I also helped two friends paint their walls, and I re-arranged my furniture (it looks shit, so I’ll have to move it back again tomorrow). I will continue to design stuff, even if it’s worthless compared to the benefit a doctor brings into the world. I simply can’t do anything else; so I might just use it well. Have a great start into spring (Yes! We made it through the winter! Isn’t that something!).

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