Forty Essays for Forty Years is my self-imposed challenge to tell interesting stories, present my perspective to insiders in the industry, and relate some of the things I have found valuable.

What have I learned in all the years of running a design studio? According to the business books, not much.

Everything I learned about running a design studio came from Star Trek—and James Tiberius Kirk.

The only way to produce quality product from design programs is to master how they work. WYSIWYG implies one doesn’t need to put in real work, and it’s TWWTL—The Worst Way To Learn.

It is the simplest of concepts: you agree what you are going to do and what you will deliver. Then you do it in the time frame you promised.

After 40 years and four studios, every time I walk off the elevator into our bright, airy space, it is the most amazing thing to think, “I built this.”

An old saw in the publishing business goes: You can choose Price, Quality, or Speed, but you can only choose two. Or can you?

The role of the art director has receded in the creative Pantheon of iconic media jobs. For passionate magazine designers, who is there to look up to as a brash young disrupter, like David Carson was in the ‘90s?

It did not take long to realize that AURAS could also be read as “auras”—the new-agey emanation of energy exuded by living things, and had all sorts of other spurious connotations.

My fantasy had always been to spend an entire summer at the beach with my family. I planned to touch base with the studio every few days, review work, do some minor design projects. There was only one little problem. It was 1995.

His dental practice and my design studio had both been revolutionized by digital imaging. In the 40 years since we both started our businesses, it transformed how we worked.

The building was a mess. As we left, Helen rolled her eyes and sighed, “That was a disaster.” At almost the same time, I said, “It has possibilities.”

Everything is more successful when experimentation, tolerance for missteps, and mutual respect are parts of the process. We believe it‘s our obligation to push clients beyond their original conceptions.

Pro bono means ”on behalf of doing good,” not "doing it for nothing." The deed itself is the reward.

Many people do not realize that awards competitions essentially exist to create revenue streams for organizations. They all do. Everyone loves to win, and you can’t win if you can’t enter.

I may have put an undue emphasis on a pleasant workplace. Despite that, I hired people who were—or nearly—psychotic. Past jobs or a great portfolio was no indicator that they might be, um, “difficult.”

if it weren’t for Helen there is no way we would be where we are, doing what we do today. I’m the one with the ridiculous ideas, but she’s the one that makes them happen.

As part of the management team, I joined a close-knit group that liked to party. I had my first manicure, ate my first sushi, got in a giant fat suit and sumo-wrestled, and ate out in some great restaurants.

There was a secret weapon that I was sure would make the magazine a success—me. I was always inspired by clients who had their “passion project” and were excited to use themselves as an audience-of-one. 

My dream was creating a space that I would enjoy every day. As AURAS grew, keeping the designers happy and productive was always important. When we built our own studio space, that meant building a comfortable and spacious environment.

The Magazine Design from A-Z issue makes me the proudest. All our mission goals are right there. Even after a decade, a lot of the content is still relevant—or at least fun to read.

At AURAS we believe that a successful magazine, no matter how technical or arcane, should have content that any reader would find interesting.

The Masons Lodge was one of the few distinctive older structures in downtown Silver Spring. It had 12,000 square feet—a far cry from the 2,200 square feet we occupied on Kalorama Road.

The top floor—what would become our studio—held more surprises. We weren’t certain what was in the space above the eight-foot suspended ceilings, but we knew that each floor was 15 feet high.

I love my work. Being with dedicated, responsible people who like each other, and leading a studio that hums along without drama or trauma makes it a place I look forward to every morning.

We had made it through the Great Recession a little battered but still going strong. It was a time to celebrate. Producing a cookbook would be a tremendous demonstration of AURAS capabilities.

It is embarrassing to admit, but I recall the moment when I saw that fully-made document with nearly the same ecstasy as the birth of my daughter. I knew it was the end of sending out for type. 

It’s a mystery how our art could possibly dupe a college student into expecting Tabasco sauce instead of summer school, but the lawyer said “Go ahead and fight this—if you can afford it.”

For me, spending time in a car, in traffic, is a waste of time and energy. The closer I live to work, the better. But how close? For me, a commute is a Goldilocks conundrum.

Decades after he retired, in his last days, he told me, “The biggest mistake I ever made was closing that damn store. Don’t ever retire, you’ll regret it.”

Attention should be paid to what makes you happy in the moment, what makes you happy day-to-day, and the having confidence to make challenging and ambitious plans for the future

At 12, I just thought magazines were cool, but I had already learned all I needed to know about magazines by then.

I’ve always set my sights on growing my studio while still being a creative director who can spend most of my time creatively directing.

AURAS initially competed as a young upstart against established firms. A few decades later we were seen as an old firm with stale ideas competing against three generations of new design studios.

I wanted to create a clear description of the spirit of the organization, what constitutes success at work, and the role an employee should play in becoming part of our team. 

Design is about elegant solutions. What makes an elegant solution? Four things—simplicity, depth, originality, and inevitability.

Some disasters are so ridiculous that the only logical response is to assume the fetal position and squeeze your eyes shut. But there are always deadlines...

I recognize the difference between privilege and entitlement. Being personally blessed with privilege is a gift and being entitled to something is a right everyone enjoys. Confusing the two is arrogant, narcissistic, and unfortunately common.

By the time you are an adult, few intimate experiences have yet to occur. Having a child might be one of the few things that happen to you for the first time when you're an adult. You may have become mature in many ways, but you also don't know sqaut about birthing babies.

Raising children has taught me valuable lessons that apply to running a business. Maybe the most critical is patience.