I traveled to colonial Williamsburg this past week to take a little time away with my wife. I was out on my morning walk to take in the sights and early morning sounds of the city. I’ve walked around Colonial Williamsburg many times when my kids were little and it felt good to reconnect with those memories again.
I took a casual stroll down Gloucester Street, taking in the colonial-period buildings, the trees that have been around for centuries, and even the reenacters that were starting their day. I took in the stick-built structures, the slate roofing, the ironwork details, and the study brick blocking. While many of the buildings are restored to the original specification, they are remarkably basic in their design and well-built in their construction.
It occurred to me that these structures are a testament to some basic principles of longevity. By necessity, they were built using basic materials but in doing so, were created to last. Their construction is simple, yet functional, and based on good science and sources.
That got me thinking about my work both in the communications campaigns that I build and the relationships that I have the privilege to be a part of. I wondered simply how I am building something to last, and how I use the basics of communication tools and practices in my craft day after day to not only get the job done but to assist future generations in learning about the present work.
Which leads me to the longevity of the physical and digital way that I store my work to best create something that last but also to create something that I can be proud of. It’s more than the outcome of the work but the path to get to the work. I have more questions than answers around the tools to use to create my work.
Can someone else pick up what I’ve done and see what I did without vastly special tools? How long is the shelf-life of the work that I produce every day? As a knowledge worker, is my only deliverable a mental impression that I gave another person or persons and how do I save that for future generations to learn from?
I say all this to say…I have spent a long time putting my work into closed digital systems that require special tools to extract them. I am looking to change all that and not sure I have a plan other than a desire to do so. Well, that’s not strictly true. I have inklings of a plan and a few methods that I have picked up from other people that I am willing to try and put into practice.
Am I talking about throwing out my computer and smartphone in order to live my best Luddite life? Well, not exactly, but is there something that I can learn from weaning myself off of my computer and smartphone? Probably.
Am I talking about printing my best work and processes out on archival paper and in the vain hopes that someone will want to peruse them at some future date? Well, not exactly, but can I learn something from the generations of curators in public art spaces about saving information for the future? Yes, I think so.
Am I talking about cutting all my streaming media sources (audio and video) in favor using only physical media, or better yet, live performances? Well, that goal seems more tangible these days with the resurgence of books and vinyl records, but still, it’s a sacrifice.
But it might all be worth it.