Ephemera

As physical portfolios fell out of favor, so mine fell out of use, demoted from its former status as my only meaningful credential to, at best, a repository for samples of the print pieces I’ve continued to design, 5 samples per job, year after year.

To what end, though? The samples, I mean. As much as I’d like to think my creative output is deserving of preservation – as decorative art, perhaps, or period artifact – what manner of art or artifact is it that no one, not even its maker, ever displays?

Alas, most of the pieces I design are as short-lived in their usefulness as mayflies in a swamp. They’re junk mail, for the most part, soaring in one graceless arc from printing press to postal worker to landfill. Or event collaterals swept away with the empty beer cups and candy wrappers. Or political promotions. Or ads.

Even less durable are the short bursts of radiant energy I conjure – the websites, videos, and digital photos.

And then there’s stagework. Yumpin’ yiminy, where is that fancy bred? Stagework is the very aether.

None of which do I consider problematic, by the way. Nor am I complaining. In fact, as I continue to simplify my already simple life, as I look for more effective ways of letting go, it’s good to be reminded that some of my seemingly weightiest preoccupations weigh nothing at all.