When I first moved to Nashville I started a company called Graffic Jam, which you’ll soon understand was an appropriate name.  I designed album art for independent artists.  Independent artists who either had no idea what they wanted or too many ideas. I was not good at this job.  I’m having deja vu all over again.

I’m a terrible designer because I like everything and I’m very indecisive.  I like every style of website, for instance, when executed well.  Clean web 2.0.  Worn out.  Hand drawn and whimsical.  Retro newsy. Analog.

I’m indecisive in that one day I’m trying to make something 80s retro and the next I’m into minimalism.  So I’m constantly fighting a natural tendency toward schizophrenic design. A little of this.  A little of that.

That’s where Brad Ruggles comes in.  He’s nailing the design for my new site.  Nailing.  He’s about done with the blog page of the site and it’s hands down the best looking site I’ve ever had. Coupled with Ben‘s ninja coding skillz, I’m about to once again have a site that’s much much better than I deserve. But there’s one problem…or two.

There are just a couple of design choices we’re stuck on.  Er, I’m stuck on.  I’m going schizophrenic, I know it.  My taste is changing mid-project.  Must. Stay. Focussed.

And I’m back to one of my most destructive design habits from my Graffic Jam days:  I’m spending hours combing through fonts and other people’s designs.  This time, instead of seeing how someone else’s name looks in every type under the sun, it’s my name I’m staring at for literally hours.

All this to say, I haven’t got much to say.  I haven’t gotten out much this morning.  My butt hurts.  My eye is twitching. My index finger is weary of clicking. And I’m pausing just to tell you that important bit of news and to say a little prayer for Brad Ruggles, that saint of a man stuck in design purgatory at the moment by my fickle taste and indecisiveness.  I don’t miss his job at all.