Explaining the world one sketch at a time

Simplifying complex ideas through fun and insightful sketches. Explore topics from science, creativity, psychology, and more explained in pictures.

This is such
a cool book.
— Bill Gates

Big Ideas Little Pictures: Explaining the world one sketch at a time

5-star rated on Amazon!

Absorb big ideas with crystal-clear understanding through this collection of 135 visual explanations. Including 24 exclusive new sketches and enhanced versions of classic favourites, each page shares life-improving ideas through beautifully simple illustrations.

Perfect for curious minds and visual learners alike.

See inside the book

Hi, I'm Jono 👋

I'm an author and illustrator creating one of the world's largest libraries of hand-drawn sketches explaining the world—sketch-by-sketch.

Sketchplanations have been shared millions of times and used in books, articles, classrooms, and more. Learn more about the project, search for a sketch you like, or see recent sketches below.

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Recent sketches

Eat the frog

Eat the Frog is a memorable, if rather gross, metaphor that means choosing the most important thing you must do today and doing that first. It derives from a variant of a quote that Mark Twain never said, "If it's your job to eat a frog, it's best to do it first thing in the morning. And if it's your job to eat two frogs, it's best to eat the biggest one first." — Not Mark Twain Another way to think about it is that if you first Eat the Frog, everything else will be easier for the rest of the day. And won't that feel nice? The Eat the Frog time management technique was popularised in Brian Tracy's productivity book Eat That Frog! Get More of the Important Things Done - Today! Many tools in Tracy's book are based on the general premise that there will always be more to do than you can do. So, find the things that will have the most impact and do those first. The others will drift on by. Why is Eat the Frog helpful? I once saw someone ask for advice on getting motivated to clean the house. One person answered: "Write a book." Sometimes, our most significant and impactful goals are those on which we so readily procrastinate. Often, these will be in the important, not urgent, bucket. The Eat the Frog approach helps if: You are prone to procrastination 🙋 You have a lot of things that need to be done or that you want to do You work well in the morning One of the nice things about eating the frog first thing is that getting it done feels really good. It helps build momentum for the rest of the day with a nice endorphin rush of ticking off something significant. Decide on your Most Important Task (MIT) to tackle, ideally the night before. If it's too big and you can't finish it in one sitting, divide it into manageable chunks. Then start on the first chunk and leave everything else. And sometimes the hardest thing to do is to start. So consider doing just 5 minutes. Once you've started, very often, keeping going becomes easy. Challenges when Eating the Frog Questions that come up regularly in Tracy's book "Eat That Frog", including that for the Eating the Frog principle, are variations of: What is the most important thing you could be doing? What is the highest-value activity? What activity will have the most impact? If you weren't already doing this, would you start doing this? What skills will take you furthest in your career? What are you able to do best that others can't? It all looks pretty straightforward when I read questions like these. But I have found that answering them is usually much harder. Our goals are often interrelated. For example, earning more may require you to increase your skills first. And getting clear on what your most important goals are first is a prerequisite and also not always straightforward. Then, what activities are the most important or will have the most impact can be unclear. And, sometimes, small actions such as an unexpected event or connection may have out-sized benefits. Or neglecting a seemingly minor task could lead to losing a significant client. But does it still make sense to try to work on the most important task first thing in the morning? Yes. Don't Drag it Out Like a child leaving a brussell sprout at the side of the plate to get cold while they eat the roast, it's easy to leave our most impactful and daunting tasks until after the easier stuff is done. But it doesn't usually help to wait. As the saying goes, if you have to eat a live frog, it doesn't pay to look at it for long. Related Ideas Face it, you'll never get caught up, so perhaps think about Oliver Burkeman's Rivers not Buckets Eisenhower Matrix: important/urgent Pomodoro Technique The Power of Streaks Don't make important decisions on an empty stomach The doorstep mile Eat the Frog is a fantastic example of putting the principles of making your idea Sticky into action Use checkboxes Present bias Finishing lines Poor frogs: the Frog boil metaphor Another quote "from" Mark Twain appears in Big Ideas Little Pictures: "Good judgment comes from experience, and experience comes from bad judgment." Notes The always excellent Quote Investigator describes the source of the Eat the Frog family of quotes from the French writer Nicolas Chamfort, who said, more or less, that eating a toad first thing would help steel you against the rest of the day as nothing worse will happen to you.…Eat the Frog is a memorable, if rather gross, metaphor that means choosing the most important thing you must do today and doing that first. It derives from a variant of a quote that Mark Twain never said, "If it's your job to eat a frog, it's best to do it first thing in the morning. And if it's your job to eat two frogs, it's best to eat the biggest one first." — Not Mark Twain Another way to think about it is that if you first Eat the Frog, everything else will be easier for the rest of the day. And won't that feel nice? The Eat the Frog time management technique was popularised in Brian Tracy's productivity book Eat That Frog! Get More of the Important Things Done - Today! Many tools in Tracy's book are based on the general premise that there will always be more to do than you can do. So, find the things that will have the most impact and do those first. The others will drift on by. Why is Eat the Frog helpful? I once saw someone ask for advice on getting motivated to clean the house. One person answered: "Write a book." Sometimes, our most significant and impactful goals are those on which we so readily procrastinate. Often, these will be in the important, not urgent, bucket. The Eat the Frog approach helps if: You are prone to procrastination 🙋 You have a lot of things that need to be done or that you want to do You work well in the morning One of the nice things about eating the frog first thing is that getting it done feels really good. It helps build momentum for the rest of the day with a nice endorphin rush of ticking off something significant. Decide on your Most Important Task (MIT) to tackle, ideally the night before. If it's too big and you can't finish it in one sitting, divide it into manageable chunks. Then start on the first chunk and leave everything else. And sometimes the hardest thing to do is to start. So consider doing just 5 minutes. Once you've started, very often, keeping going becomes easy. Challenges when Eating the Frog Questions that come up regularly in Tracy's book "Eat That Frog", including that for the Eating the Frog principle, are variations of: What is the most important thing you could be doing? What is the highest-value activity? What activity will have the most impact? If you weren't already doing this, would you start doing this? What skills will take you furthest in your career? What are you able to do best that others can't? It all looks pretty straightforward when I read questions like these. But I have found that answering them is usually much harder. Our goals are often interrelated. For example, earning more may require you to increase your skills first. And getting clear on what your most important goals are first is a prerequisite and also not always straightforward. Then, what activities are the most important or will have the most impact can be unclear. And, sometimes, small actions such as an unexpected event or connection may have out-sized benefits. Or neglecting a seemingly minor task could lead to losing a significant client. But does it still make sense to try to work on the most important task first thing in the morning? Yes. Don't Drag it Out Like a child leaving a brussell sprout at the side of the plate to get cold while they eat the roast, it's easy to leave our most impactful and daunting tasks until after the easier stuff is done. But it doesn't usually help to wait. As the saying goes, if you have to eat a live frog, it doesn't pay to look at it for long. Related Ideas Face it, you'll never get caught up, so perhaps think about Oliver Burkeman's Rivers not Buckets Eisenhower Matrix: important/urgent Pomodoro Technique The Power of Streaks Don't make important decisions on an empty stomach The doorstep mile Eat the Frog is a fantastic example of putting the principles of making your idea Sticky into action Use checkboxes Present bias Finishing lines Poor frogs: the Frog boil metaphor Another quote "from" Mark Twain appears in Big Ideas Little Pictures: "Good judgment comes from experience, and experience comes from bad judgment." Notes The always excellent Quote Investigator describes the source of the Eat the Frog family of quotes from the French writer Nicolas Chamfort, who said, more or less, that eating a toad first thing would help steel you against the rest of the day as nothing worse will happen to you.

✨ Latest

The 5 Gift Guide for Christmas

If you're a parent or buy presents for kids, perhaps Christmas brings mixed feelings. While we love spending time with family, playing together, and taking a break, Christmas gift-giving easily brings some stress and anxiety (one of the reasons that Thanksgiving is so good). This list from Pragmatic Parent is a potential antidote to the consumerism that can overtake at Christmas. The idea is to give one gift to each child in five categories: Want, Read, Wear, Need, and Do. 8x Christmas-As-Magic No one wants a Dudley Dursley on his birthday, "Thirty-six. That's two less than last year!" But at the same time, as a parent, you may have nostalgia for your Christmas or holidays as a child and want to create the same for your children. Paul Graham wrote in an essay Life is Short: "Having kids showed me how to convert a continuous quantity, time, into discrete quantities. You only get 52 weekends with your 2-year-old. If Christmas-as-magic lasts from, say, ages 3 to 10, you only get to watch your child experience it 8 times. And while it's impossible to say what is a lot or a little of a continuous quantity like time, 8 is not a lot of something." So, while, as parents, you may be working to make it memorable, at the same time, some things can easily get out of kilter. Here are some thoughts that cross our minds: It's easy to think that we're buying more and bigger gifts each year. And we want to ensure this year's presents are as good as last year's to avoid disappointment. It's easy to look at a pile of assembled presents and think, "We never had this much as kids!". And sometimes, the big ticket item we bought at great expense didn't provide nearly as much joy as racing around the house with family at Christmas. We wonder if it was really needed after all. It's easy for Christmas gift-giving to seem out of control. The 5 Gift Guide: Want, Read, Wear, Need, Do Years ago, I learned about this list from Corinne at Pragmatic Parent, which tries to redress some of the balance at Christmas—keeping Christmas wonder while also keeping it sane. The idea is to get one gift in each of the 5 categories: Want, Read, Wear, Need, Do. Something I want can still be the classic Christmas big ticket item that you dream about getting as a kid. This could be a big toy, Lego set, video game, or new bike... Something I need could support a hobby, some sports equipment, a musical instrument, maybe headphones. Or it could be something they need for school—a smart set of pens or pencils or pencil case, perhaps. Something to wear is an opportunity to get something that makes them feel good daily. Something to read might be a book, magazine, comic, or subscription. Something to do could be a game, tickets to a film, a day out or visiting somewhere new. In a later iteration of the list, Corinne added a 6th item, "Something for my family", for an activity everyone can do together. A Less Materialistic Christmas The 5-Gift Rule for Christmas is a potential way to reduce some of the consumerism associated with Christmas and adopt a more minimalist approach. It promotes useful gifts that won't gather dust after the excitement of the holidays has passed. It encourages gratitude for what we receive and minimises pining for what we don't. It also suggests gifts that create experiences for the receiver and the family—one of the best ways to spend our money. Full disclosure: Though we think about the list, we've yet to adopt it wholesale. But it's a handy framework for considering different types of gifts that your children may value. It reminds us to focus on more meaningful and thoughtful gifts and experiences with less accompanying stuff. Related Ideas Also see: If money doesn't make you happy, you're not spending it right The origins of Boxing Day Give gifts others can give Jólabókaflóð Pick a present (Venn diagram) (Groggy parents from Watterson)…If you're a parent or buy presents for kids, perhaps Christmas brings mixed feelings. While we love spending time with family, playing together, and taking a break, Christmas gift-giving easily brings some stress and anxiety (one of the reasons that Thanksgiving is so good). This list from Pragmatic Parent is a potential antidote to the consumerism that can overtake at Christmas. The idea is to give one gift to each child in five categories: Want, Read, Wear, Need, and Do. 8x Christmas-As-Magic No one wants a Dudley Dursley on his birthday, "Thirty-six. That's two less than last year!" But at the same time, as a parent, you may have nostalgia for your Christmas or holidays as a child and want to create the same for your children. Paul Graham wrote in an essay Life is Short: "Having kids showed me how to convert a continuous quantity, time, into discrete quantities. You only get 52 weekends with your 2-year-old. If Christmas-as-magic lasts from, say, ages 3 to 10, you only get to watch your child experience it 8 times. And while it's impossible to say what is a lot or a little of a continuous quantity like time, 8 is not a lot of something." So, while, as parents, you may be working to make it memorable, at the same time, some things can easily get out of kilter. Here are some thoughts that cross our minds: It's easy to think that we're buying more and bigger gifts each year. And we want to ensure this year's presents are as good as last year's to avoid disappointment. It's easy to look at a pile of assembled presents and think, "We never had this much as kids!". And sometimes, the big ticket item we bought at great expense didn't provide nearly as much joy as racing around the house with family at Christmas. We wonder if it was really needed after all. It's easy for Christmas gift-giving to seem out of control. The 5 Gift Guide: Want, Read, Wear, Need, Do Years ago, I learned about this list from Corinne at Pragmatic Parent, which tries to redress some of the balance at Christmas—keeping Christmas wonder while also keeping it sane. The idea is to get one gift in each of the 5 categories: Want, Read, Wear, Need, Do. Something I want can still be the classic Christmas big ticket item that you dream about getting as a kid. This could be a big toy, Lego set, video game, or new bike... Something I need could support a hobby, some sports equipment, a musical instrument, maybe headphones. Or it could be something they need for school—a smart set of pens or pencils or pencil case, perhaps. Something to wear is an opportunity to get something that makes them feel good daily. Something to read might be a book, magazine, comic, or subscription. Something to do could be a game, tickets to a film, a day out or visiting somewhere new. In a later iteration of the list, Corinne added a 6th item, "Something for my family", for an activity everyone can do together. A Less Materialistic Christmas The 5-Gift Rule for Christmas is a potential way to reduce some of the consumerism associated with Christmas and adopt a more minimalist approach. It promotes useful gifts that won't gather dust after the excitement of the holidays has passed. It encourages gratitude for what we receive and minimises pining for what we don't. It also suggests gifts that create experiences for the receiver and the family—one of the best ways to spend our money. Full disclosure: Though we think about the list, we've yet to adopt it wholesale. But it's a handy framework for considering different types of gifts that your children may value. It reminds us to focus on more meaningful and thoughtful gifts and experiences with less accompanying stuff. Related Ideas Also see: If money doesn't make you happy, you're not spending it right The origins of Boxing Day Give gifts others can give Jólabókaflóð Pick a present (Venn diagram) (Groggy parents from Watterson)

1 Dec

Brenda Ueland quote: What is the purpose of existence but to discover truth and beauty and share it with others? showing a person finding a flower, painting it, and then enjoying seeing others experience the same emotions they did

Discovering Truth and Beauty and Sharing it with others

This post is sketch 900 of Sketchplanations, according to my numbering. To mark that, I've been reflecting and wanted to share what I've learned from over a decade of this project. It's my longest post, but I created a version you can listen to, or even watch 🙈, if you prefer. And if you don't want to listen, watch or read a long article, I hope you can just enjoy the sketch of Brenda Ueland's lovely wisdom. Listen/watch reflections on a decade of Sketchplanations on YouTube Still here? Let's go: After the first year of one-a-day, I've done one sketch a week, 52 a year, for over a decade without missing. I've tried to stick to James Clear's "Never miss twice" rule by first not missing once. With a few years of experience in creating and sharing under my belt, I wanted to share some thoughts about this project, about sharing your work, and about creative freedom. I watched a talk by Jack Conte a few weeks ago. Jack is the founder of Patreon but was first—and still is—a passionate, talented musician full of energy and drive. The whole talk is interesting—he called it the Death of the Follower. But what drove me to create this was some of what he said towards the end, kind of his "advice to creatives." I want to talk about two things: The why and what of creating, and second, what sort of project a creative project should be. I've been lucky in so many ways with this project: It was accidental, so I wasn't staking my future or my ego on it. It was a side project—until this year—so I wasn't staking my paycheck and whether we could pay the mortgage and support our family on it. And I stumbled on a simple formula that's given me great permission, licence, and scope to explore everything that interests me. Without getting too grandiose about it, my conjured up tag line of "explaining the world one sketch at a time" is a huge mission, one that never really ends. But it also allows me to cover whatever aspects of our fascinating world that I want, in the way that I want. Cartoonists also have a tremendous scope to create, but they usually have to make people laugh. Fortunately for me, I don't have to do that each time. I can cover serious things, or sensitive things, or fun things, or complex things in whichever way I want. I'm also lucky that my drawings don't have to be good. Sometimes, I look back on older ones and cringe, but usually, I don't cringe at what I'm sharing, only my drawing of it. Just a year or so into this project, when I complained to a good friend about not being the best artist, he simply replied, "Yes, but it's the content." It really stuck with me, and it's grown on me over time. The drawings may not be as slick as other artists. Still, the content and topics I tackle are hopefully valuable, or at least interesting, in themselves. So people, I think, forgive me when I don't get it quite right and it's a bit cheesy, or my people are a bit janky. Part of the luck in my formula is that it's become a unique collection in style and approach. The more I've created, the more unique it becomes. I am regularly asked how I choose and find topics to include. I only recently found the answer that really nails it. On my website, I've joked, "Sooner or later, everything I know will be on Sketchplanations." And in some ways, that's true—at least for the useful stuff I know. At first, sketches were a combination of serendipity in what happened to me that was interesting this week and a process of trawling through my experience and memory for the things I've found interesting and helpful over the years. And they were also what I found myself using or thinking about regularly. Over the years, I've trained myself constantly to be on the lookout for topics. Sometimes I see, or read, or remember something that I instantly know I'll sketch at some point. I add it to my list, and those that I'm excited about and have the clearest view on are those I tackle the next week. But that doesn't really address the question of what makes it into the list and what doesn't. What ties these together? The answer I found most profoundly hit when I read a wonderfully opinionated book, "If you Want to Write," by Brenda Ueland. Brenda says: And what is the purpose of existence… but to discover truth and beauty and…share it with others. — Brenda Ueland And it was suddenly clear to me. What makes it into the list is when I've found something that to me was a truth, an insight, an aha, a new piece of knowledge, something beautiful or fascinating that I realised. I had to feel I'd discovered something. Sketchplanations has given me the wonderful vehicle to act on the impulse to share it with so many others. I usually consider myself knowledgeable about most sketches but an expert in few. But like the age-old realisation that the teacher learns more than the students, I can tell you that there's nothing like spending a day or more a week diving into a topic, thinking how to visualise it, spending several hours sketching it and then writing about it to cement them in my own brain. I'm no doubt the one who's benefited the most from this project. It's not too long in a conversation with me before I might struggle not to interrupt with a "There's a sketch for that." And this diverse collection of 900 sketches therefore, in many ways, reflects everything I find interesting and helpful or beautiful in the world, and so is a reflection of me. In that sense it's really rather personal. Which brings me to the second aspect of what I want to share here. I'm very lucky that many people provide suggestions for sketches they'd like to see. I've worked in design and user experience for many years. Having direct feedback of what your audience would like to see is extremely valuable. I've tackled some of them, but too few. I find that I'm not a very good judge of sketches that will turn out to be popular—at least in the short run. I send out new sketches each week in my newsletter. It's funny that even though I send out 10s of 1,000s of emails each month there's relatively little feedback of what people think about each new sketch. I started posting sketches on social channels many years ago to allow more people to discover them and make it easier for people to share them. And I post sketches on my website, so that people can find them in the future and get the answers they want when they're searching for something or looking for something to use in their own projects. Posting on social media is interesting as, with likes, comments, shares and follower numbers I seemed to have much more feedback about whether what I did was interesting to people or not. Certainly as compared to the newsletter where there's no lightweight, low commitment way, save writing me a direct email, to let me know if it was helpful. I love receiving them by the way. Once you start getting feedback on what seems to be popular however, you have a double-edged sword. For example, what if there's some truth or beauty that I want to share that is unlikely to be popular? Or what if there are things that will be popular that I don't find to be a truth or beauty that speaks to me or makes me want to share it. If I was a business I think the answer is fairly clear—you create the content that your audience wants to see so people come to your site and buy your wares. But what if a project reflects you personally? And what if it's an amateur project, created for the love of it rather than the $ of it? I have tackled some sketches of topics that people asked for and that sometimes people have paid me for. What I found is that very quickly it begins to feel like a job. It's fine to do, but they're not always something that excites me. For me, who fortunately for so long wasn't depending on it for my primary income, I found it very quickly took the joy out of the task. Why would I use my spare time—and often time from my family—to execute something that I wasn't excited about and didn't find joy in and didn't find a little spark or fire in sharing with others? Don't get me wrong. Reaching more people with my work is great. I came round to marketing when I kept hearing "Wow, I just discovered your site. I love it!" 7 years after I'd been working on it. These people could have been following from the beginning if I'd just reached them earlier. That was part of the impetus to create a physical book and hopefully reach a new set of people in a different way. This same feeling also drives me to work on making the website better—as the saying goes: "Business without marketing is like winking at a girl in the dark." What's the point of having good content if people can't find it? It seems a shame. Well, one way I could reach more people, I think of, as "feeding the machine." What I should do is find topics that have high search volume, topics that are topical or current, topics that draw a lot of engagement, topics that may be easy to grasp or share with others, and I should and do those. I should check search queries, watch what others are doing, and look for the content I post that creates the most interactions and create more content to match. Simple messages without nuance or complexity are easy to share and take in and hit repost. But I can't bring myself to do it. The things I keep wanting to share are my version of what Brenda called the "purpose of existence"—discovering truth and beauty and sharing it with others. So I've resisted too much of feeding the machine. I'm sure it's cost me. I'm sure there are a million ways I could grow my followers faster, get more subscribers, get more content engagement, exploit new channels, write traffic heavy content. But I don't want to do those if it means I can't share the truths and beauty that I find valuable. So, at sketch 900, I'm sharing these reflections as the struggles of a creator trying to understand the point and value of their project. And to say that I plan to keep this project idiosyncratic, unexpected, and personal. Or, in some ways, a reflection of me. This will at least keep it unique. I know that you won't find it all speaks to you—you're not me after all. But for the times when I do get it right, when you can see the truth or beauty that I'm trying to share, even if it's just you and me who appreciate it, I hope that will keep it worth it. Jack Conte talks passionately and knowledgeably about the importance of building deep connections with small numbers of true fans. He built Patreon, through which I've benefited so much. And a deep personal thank you to everyone who is now supporting and has supported me in the past. And I've decided I'd rather, slowly, create a deeper, more personal connection with the people, perhaps like you, who have enjoyed my project, by sharing the truth or beauty that I want to share than to feed the machine and create what the machine says is needed. Selfishly, I hope that this will also keep it interesting for me even if it may not do the rounds of the internet as well. Thanks everyone who's visited, enjoyed, talked about, listened to the podcast or shared my work over the years. So many of you have been generous in sharing and singing the praises of this little project. There is of course still so much more to explain about this world. Maybe 900 is a lot of topics sketched—or maybe, I'm just getting started. Thanks for being part of the journey. See you at 1,000. And... If you made it this far, it'd be amazing if you considered helping to get to 1,000 by supporting me at any amount on Patreon 🙏…This post is sketch 900 of Sketchplanations, according to my numbering. To mark that, I've been reflecting and wanted to share what I've learned from over a decade of this project. It's my longest post, but I created a version you can listen to, or even watch 🙈, if you prefer. And if you don't want to listen, watch or read a long article, I hope you can just enjoy the sketch of Brenda Ueland's lovely wisdom. Listen/watch reflections on a decade of Sketchplanations on YouTube Still here? Let's go: After the first year of one-a-day, I've done one sketch a week, 52 a year, for over a decade without missing. I've tried to stick to James Clear's "Never miss twice" rule by first not missing once. With a few years of experience in creating and sharing under my belt, I wanted to share some thoughts about this project, about sharing your work, and about creative freedom. I watched a talk by Jack Conte a few weeks ago. Jack is the founder of Patreon but was first—and still is—a passionate, talented musician full of energy and drive. The whole talk is interesting—he called it the Death of the Follower. But what drove me to create this was some of what he said towards the end, kind of his "advice to creatives." I want to talk about two things: The why and what of creating, and second, what sort of project a creative project should be. I've been lucky in so many ways with this project: It was accidental, so I wasn't staking my future or my ego on it. It was a side project—until this year—so I wasn't staking my paycheck and whether we could pay the mortgage and support our family on it. And I stumbled on a simple formula that's given me great permission, licence, and scope to explore everything that interests me. Without getting too grandiose about it, my conjured up tag line of "explaining the world one sketch at a time" is a huge mission, one that never really ends. But it also allows me to cover whatever aspects of our fascinating world that I want, in the way that I want. Cartoonists also have a tremendous scope to create, but they usually have to make people laugh. Fortunately for me, I don't have to do that each time. I can cover serious things, or sensitive things, or fun things, or complex things in whichever way I want. I'm also lucky that my drawings don't have to be good. Sometimes, I look back on older ones and cringe, but usually, I don't cringe at what I'm sharing, only my drawing of it. Just a year or so into this project, when I complained to a good friend about not being the best artist, he simply replied, "Yes, but it's the content." It really stuck with me, and it's grown on me over time. The drawings may not be as slick as other artists. Still, the content and topics I tackle are hopefully valuable, or at least interesting, in themselves. So people, I think, forgive me when I don't get it quite right and it's a bit cheesy, or my people are a bit janky. Part of the luck in my formula is that it's become a unique collection in style and approach. The more I've created, the more unique it becomes. I am regularly asked how I choose and find topics to include. I only recently found the answer that really nails it. On my website, I've joked, "Sooner or later, everything I know will be on Sketchplanations." And in some ways, that's true—at least for the useful stuff I know. At first, sketches were a combination of serendipity in what happened to me that was interesting this week and a process of trawling through my experience and memory for the things I've found interesting and helpful over the years. And they were also what I found myself using or thinking about regularly. Over the years, I've trained myself constantly to be on the lookout for topics. Sometimes I see, or read, or remember something that I instantly know I'll sketch at some point. I add it to my list, and those that I'm excited about and have the clearest view on are those I tackle the next week. But that doesn't really address the question of what makes it into the list and what doesn't. What ties these together? The answer I found most profoundly hit when I read a wonderfully opinionated book, "If you Want to Write," by Brenda Ueland. Brenda says: And what is the purpose of existence… but to discover truth and beauty and…share it with others. — Brenda Ueland And it was suddenly clear to me. What makes it into the list is when I've found something that to me was a truth, an insight, an aha, a new piece of knowledge, something beautiful or fascinating that I realised. I had to feel I'd discovered something. Sketchplanations has given me the wonderful vehicle to act on the impulse to share it with so many others. I usually consider myself knowledgeable about most sketches but an expert in few. But like the age-old realisation that the teacher learns more than the students, I can tell you that there's nothing like spending a day or more a week diving into a topic, thinking how to visualise it, spending several hours sketching it and then writing about it to cement them in my own brain. I'm no doubt the one who's benefited the most from this project. It's not too long in a conversation with me before I might struggle not to interrupt with a "There's a sketch for that." And this diverse collection of 900 sketches therefore, in many ways, reflects everything I find interesting and helpful or beautiful in the world, and so is a reflection of me. In that sense it's really rather personal. Which brings me to the second aspect of what I want to share here. I'm very lucky that many people provide suggestions for sketches they'd like to see. I've worked in design and user experience for many years. Having direct feedback of what your audience would like to see is extremely valuable. I've tackled some of them, but too few. I find that I'm not a very good judge of sketches that will turn out to be popular—at least in the short run. I send out new sketches each week in my newsletter. It's funny that even though I send out 10s of 1,000s of emails each month there's relatively little feedback of what people think about each new sketch. I started posting sketches on social channels many years ago to allow more people to discover them and make it easier for people to share them. And I post sketches on my website, so that people can find them in the future and get the answers they want when they're searching for something or looking for something to use in their own projects. Posting on social media is interesting as, with likes, comments, shares and follower numbers I seemed to have much more feedback about whether what I did was interesting to people or not. Certainly as compared to the newsletter where there's no lightweight, low commitment way, save writing me a direct email, to let me know if it was helpful. I love receiving them by the way. Once you start getting feedback on what seems to be popular however, you have a double-edged sword. For example, what if there's some truth or beauty that I want to share that is unlikely to be popular? Or what if there are things that will be popular that I don't find to be a truth or beauty that speaks to me or makes me want to share it. If I was a business I think the answer is fairly clear—you create the content that your audience wants to see so people come to your site and buy your wares. But what if a project reflects you personally? And what if it's an amateur project, created for the love of it rather than the $ of it? I have tackled some sketches of topics that people asked for and that sometimes people have paid me for. What I found is that very quickly it begins to feel like a job. It's fine to do, but they're not always something that excites me. For me, who fortunately for so long wasn't depending on it for my primary income, I found it very quickly took the joy out of the task. Why would I use my spare time—and often time from my family—to execute something that I wasn't excited about and didn't find joy in and didn't find a little spark or fire in sharing with others? Don't get me wrong. Reaching more people with my work is great. I came round to marketing when I kept hearing "Wow, I just discovered your site. I love it!" 7 years after I'd been working on it. These people could have been following from the beginning if I'd just reached them earlier. That was part of the impetus to create a physical book and hopefully reach a new set of people in a different way. This same feeling also drives me to work on making the website better—as the saying goes: "Business without marketing is like winking at a girl in the dark." What's the point of having good content if people can't find it? It seems a shame. Well, one way I could reach more people, I think of, as "feeding the machine." What I should do is find topics that have high search volume, topics that are topical or current, topics that draw a lot of engagement, topics that may be easy to grasp or share with others, and I should and do those. I should check search queries, watch what others are doing, and look for the content I post that creates the most interactions and create more content to match. Simple messages without nuance or complexity are easy to share and take in and hit repost. But I can't bring myself to do it. The things I keep wanting to share are my version of what Brenda called the "purpose of existence"—discovering truth and beauty and sharing it with others. So I've resisted too much of feeding the machine. I'm sure it's cost me. I'm sure there are a million ways I could grow my followers faster, get more subscribers, get more content engagement, exploit new channels, write traffic heavy content. But I don't want to do those if it means I can't share the truths and beauty that I find valuable. So, at sketch 900, I'm sharing these reflections as the struggles of a creator trying to understand the point and value of their project. And to say that I plan to keep this project idiosyncratic, unexpected, and personal. Or, in some ways, a reflection of me. This will at least keep it unique. I know that you won't find it all speaks to you—you're not me after all. But for the times when I do get it right, when you can see the truth or beauty that I'm trying to share, even if it's just you and me who appreciate it, I hope that will keep it worth it. Jack Conte talks passionately and knowledgeably about the importance of building deep connections with small numbers of true fans. He built Patreon, through which I've benefited so much. And a deep personal thank you to everyone who is now supporting and has supported me in the past. And I've decided I'd rather, slowly, create a deeper, more personal connection with the people, perhaps like you, who have enjoyed my project, by sharing the truth or beauty that I want to share than to feed the machine and create what the machine says is needed. Selfishly, I hope that this will also keep it interesting for me even if it may not do the rounds of the internet as well. Thanks everyone who's visited, enjoyed, talked about, listened to the podcast or shared my work over the years. So many of you have been generous in sharing and singing the praises of this little project. There is of course still so much more to explain about this world. Maybe 900 is a lot of topics sketched—or maybe, I'm just getting started. Thanks for being part of the journey. See you at 1,000. And... If you made it this far, it'd be amazing if you considered helping to get to 1,000 by supporting me at any amount on Patreon 🙏

24 Nov

What is Naismith's Rule for calculating walking time in the mountains example explained with a mountain ridge with hikers and lines for the horizontal distance and time and ascent and time

Naismith's Rule for mountain hiking time

Naismith's Rule provides a quick estimate for hiking time in the mountains, intended for "easy expeditions." It suggests: 1 hour for every 3 miles (5km) walked +1 hour for every 2,000 ft (600m) of ascent For example, suppose your hike covers 6 miles with 2,000 ft of ascent. In that case, Naismith's Rule suggests allowing 3 hours total—2 hours for distance and 1 hour for elevation. (Here's a metric sketch of Naismith's Rule) Origins of Naismith's Rule William Naismith was a Scottish Mountaineer born in 1856. He spent years trekking in the Highlands and was, to be fair, probably made of nails. In the Scottish Mountaineering Club Journal in 1893, he wrote: "...a simple formula, that may be found useful in estimating what time men in fair condition should allow for easy expeditions, namely, an hour for every three miles on the map, with an additional hour for every 2,000 feet of ascent." The Scottish Mountaineering Club Journal, Vol. II, September 1892, No.3, p.136 (pdf) Does Naismith's Rule Work? A figure I learned that's stuck with me is that a brisk walk is around 4 mph. But that's actually pretty fast and wouldn't apply on a mountain trail and certainly not hiking up a mountain. So I've run into the challenge myself when planning a trip in the mountains of how to guess how long a hike will likely take. From a recent hike—where I made sure to run through the full kitchen table survival skills and 10 essentials before leaving—limited daylight was a safety consideration. So knowing how long the hike might take was really important. Incidentally, there's a rule of thumb, literally, for estimating remaining daylight. Lots of people have put Naismith's Rule to the test, including me, and though it's a slightly optimistic metric, it's a starting point. On my recent hike, we were slightly over, but not by much. Adjusting Naismith's Rule To adjust for your circumstances, add time for: Tricky or technical terrain and trail condition Steep descents High altitude Lunches and snack stops Not being "in fair [physical] condition" in the view of a rugged mountaineer from Scotland in the 1890s Heavy packs, poor weather Getting lost Walking with children Photography, bird watching, animal spotting Time to stop and enjoy the views The size of your group—I have heard the rule of thumb to add 15 mins for each person in your group Sitting and sketching Presumably, if the hike was really long, you'd slow down The Unexpected So, there are many reasons why Naismith's Rule may be on the light side. But it's a decent place to start from. Killian Jornet Laughs in the Face of Naismith's Rule Someone for whom Naismith's Rule definitely doesn't apply is the incredible Killian Jornet, whom I watched in the beautiful documentary Déjame Vivir on Netflix. Footage of him running along knife-edge ridges at the top of the Alps is breathtaking. In 2024, he hiked all 82 peaks above 4,000m in the Alps in 19 days without using motorized vehicles between them 🤯. Lock-Miles I was told about the term lock-miles, a kind of Naismith's Rule but for canal journeys rather than hikes. To estimate the journey time, you'd first calculate the lock-miles with the idea that it takes as long to travel through a lock as it does to travel a mile. A journey of 10 miles with 5 locks would be 15 lock-miles. For experienced boaters, a typical speed might be 3 lock-miles an hour, so the journey of 15 lock-miles would take 5 hours. Let me know if you give Naismith's Rule a try! Prefer metric? So do I. Here's a metric Naismith's rule (with the approximate rounding) Related ideas Also see: The Fun Scale The 10 essentials Kitchen table survival skills Take photos of maps before a hike Use a compass Rule of thumb for remaining daylight Kaffikok — the time you can travel before needing another cup of coffee Time hierarchy Isochrones Human pace I made some prints and products with and without the text in case, like me, you like a peaceful mountain ridge without any rules…Naismith's Rule provides a quick estimate for hiking time in the mountains, intended for "easy expeditions." It suggests: 1 hour for every 3 miles (5km) walked +1 hour for every 2,000 ft (600m) of ascent For example, suppose your hike covers 6 miles with 2,000 ft of ascent. In that case, Naismith's Rule suggests allowing 3 hours total—2 hours for distance and 1 hour for elevation. (Here's a metric sketch of Naismith's Rule) Origins of Naismith's Rule William Naismith was a Scottish Mountaineer born in 1856. He spent years trekking in the Highlands and was, to be fair, probably made of nails. In the Scottish Mountaineering Club Journal in 1893, he wrote: "...a simple formula, that may be found useful in estimating what time men in fair condition should allow for easy expeditions, namely, an hour for every three miles on the map, with an additional hour for every 2,000 feet of ascent." The Scottish Mountaineering Club Journal, Vol. II, September 1892, No.3, p.136 (pdf) Does Naismith's Rule Work? A figure I learned that's stuck with me is that a brisk walk is around 4 mph. But that's actually pretty fast and wouldn't apply on a mountain trail and certainly not hiking up a mountain. So I've run into the challenge myself when planning a trip in the mountains of how to guess how long a hike will likely take. From a recent hike—where I made sure to run through the full kitchen table survival skills and 10 essentials before leaving—limited daylight was a safety consideration. So knowing how long the hike might take was really important. Incidentally, there's a rule of thumb, literally, for estimating remaining daylight. Lots of people have put Naismith's Rule to the test, including me, and though it's a slightly optimistic metric, it's a starting point. On my recent hike, we were slightly over, but not by much. Adjusting Naismith's Rule To adjust for your circumstances, add time for: Tricky or technical terrain and trail condition Steep descents High altitude Lunches and snack stops Not being "in fair [physical] condition" in the view of a rugged mountaineer from Scotland in the 1890s Heavy packs, poor weather Getting lost Walking with children Photography, bird watching, animal spotting Time to stop and enjoy the views The size of your group—I have heard the rule of thumb to add 15 mins for each person in your group Sitting and sketching Presumably, if the hike was really long, you'd slow down The Unexpected So, there are many reasons why Naismith's Rule may be on the light side. But it's a decent place to start from. Killian Jornet Laughs in the Face of Naismith's Rule Someone for whom Naismith's Rule definitely doesn't apply is the incredible Killian Jornet, whom I watched in the beautiful documentary Déjame Vivir on Netflix. Footage of him running along knife-edge ridges at the top of the Alps is breathtaking. In 2024, he hiked all 82 peaks above 4,000m in the Alps in 19 days without using motorized vehicles between them 🤯. Lock-Miles I was told about the term lock-miles, a kind of Naismith's Rule but for canal journeys rather than hikes. To estimate the journey time, you'd first calculate the lock-miles with the idea that it takes as long to travel through a lock as it does to travel a mile. A journey of 10 miles with 5 locks would be 15 lock-miles. For experienced boaters, a typical speed might be 3 lock-miles an hour, so the journey of 15 lock-miles would take 5 hours. Let me know if you give Naismith's Rule a try! Prefer metric? So do I. Here's a metric Naismith's rule (with the approximate rounding) Related ideas Also see: The Fun Scale The 10 essentials Kitchen table survival skills Take photos of maps before a hike Use a compass Rule of thumb for remaining daylight Kaffikok — the time you can travel before needing another cup of coffee Time hierarchy Isochrones Human pace I made some prints and products with and without the text in case, like me, you like a peaceful mountain ridge without any rules

17 Nov

The paradise paradox

The Paradise Paradox is the tempting but misguided belief that moving to a "paradise" will magically make everything better. It's the idea that a change of scene to somewhere beautiful or exciting will somehow sweep away all our problems. And while a fresh setting can give us a lift, the reality is often more complicated: paradise, as wonderful as it might be, won't always solve the everyday challenges we bring along with us. Idealizing Paradise Moving to your paradise might feel incredible, and it's a life-changer for some people, but it's easy to idealize paradise, imagining it as a place where worries simply disappear. Yet even the most stunning places could start to feel ordinary, and your conceptualised paradise may have its own challenges. For instance, perhaps your paradise is a beautiful, distant, exotic land. Such a paradise, however, has the drawback of no longer being distant or exotic once you arrive and the day-to-day takes over. Someone living in a fast-paced metropolis might dream of calm and quiet, while someone surrounded by calm and quiet may dream of the rush and excitement of the big city. Alastair Humphreys, who introduced me to the Paradise Paradox in his book Local, gave a great example in our podcast about Microadventures. In an interview on an American podcast, the interviewers couldn't imagine exploring Kansas to be exciting—it was known or even home to them. But to Alastair, a visit to Kansas would be an adventure, full of new things to see and do. It's a reminder that our ideas of paradise are often fueled by novelty—and novelty, by nature, doesn't last forever. Expectations, the day-to-day, and Adaptability Some of the Paradise Paradox may be explained by how easy it is to build up expectations. If we imagine paradise as the ultimate fix, it could lead to disappointment if it doesn't live up to the dream. As for vorfreude—the joy of anticipation—the build-up can sometimes overshadow the reality. Then there's the simple truth that day-to-day life in paradise isn't a vacation. A tropical beach holiday lets you unwind and enjoy the scenery without a care. But living there might mean dealing with rainy seasons, work deadlines, or just regular old laundry. Humans are also remarkably adaptable. We're good at adjusting to new surroundings, which means something initially remarkable may soon become the new normal. It's a bit like the grass-is-greener mentality we see in many areas of life. If you're a consultant, you might long for the stability of an in-house role, while in-house folks might crave the variety of consulting. The Dark Side of the Paradise Paradox In some cases, the Paradise Paradox takes on a more serious tone. The documentary film The Paradise Paradox, executive produced by Olympic ski racer Bode Miller and filmmaker Brett Rapkin, explores how people drawn to the beauty and tranquility of US mountain towns sometimes face mental health struggles. These picturesque communities, though visually idyllic, have experienced higher-than-average rates of suicide, highlighting the challenges of living in remote, isolated settings. Strategies to Minimize the Pull of the Paradise Paradox To reduce the effect of the Paradise Paradox, it helps to focus on what brings fulfillment in any setting, allowing us to appreciate where we are without feeling the constant pull of an imagined paradise. Here are a few ways to lessen the allure: 1. Cultivating Gratitude Practicing gratitude allows us to recognize the value of what we already have. Focusing on the positives around us may make us less inclined to search elsewhere for happiness, realizing that contentment often lies closer than we think. 2. Prioritizing Experiences Over Material Goods Research consistently shows that experiences bring longer-lasting happiness than possessions. Prioritizing meaningful activities and memories can bring joy and satisfaction, outlasting the initial thrill of accumulating more. 3. Simplifying Life A minimalist approach can help reduce the constant desire for more—whether it's things, places, or achievements. Simplifying our lives can allow us to focus on what truly matters and bring a greater sense of peace. 4. Pursuing Meaningful Goals Focusing on personal growth, nurturing relationships, and contributing to our communities can offer a lasting sense of fulfillment that doesn't depend on our surroundings. Meaningful goals and connections often provide the depth of happiness that location alone can't bring. Paradise can certainly refresh us, but true and lasting happiness is often about embracing where we already are and what we already have. Since writing this I keep seeing related quotes: The only Zen you can find on the tops of mountains is the Zen you bring up there. — Robert M. Pirsig (via Waking Up) “We tend to attribute happiness to our circumstances (what happens to us) but studies suggest our happiness is really dependent on what we pay attention to.” — Cal Newport, Deep Work (via Mind Over Tech) "Happiness isn't getting what you want, it's wanting what you got." — Garth Brooks Wherever you go, there you are. Also see: The paradox of choice The transparency paradox The fresh start effect Vorfreude 5 ways to wellbeing…The Paradise Paradox is the tempting but misguided belief that moving to a "paradise" will magically make everything better. It's the idea that a change of scene to somewhere beautiful or exciting will somehow sweep away all our problems. And while a fresh setting can give us a lift, the reality is often more complicated: paradise, as wonderful as it might be, won't always solve the everyday challenges we bring along with us. Idealizing Paradise Moving to your paradise might feel incredible, and it's a life-changer for some people, but it's easy to idealize paradise, imagining it as a place where worries simply disappear. Yet even the most stunning places could start to feel ordinary, and your conceptualised paradise may have its own challenges. For instance, perhaps your paradise is a beautiful, distant, exotic land. Such a paradise, however, has the drawback of no longer being distant or exotic once you arrive and the day-to-day takes over. Someone living in a fast-paced metropolis might dream of calm and quiet, while someone surrounded by calm and quiet may dream of the rush and excitement of the big city. Alastair Humphreys, who introduced me to the Paradise Paradox in his book Local, gave a great example in our podcast about Microadventures. In an interview on an American podcast, the interviewers couldn't imagine exploring Kansas to be exciting—it was known or even home to them. But to Alastair, a visit to Kansas would be an adventure, full of new things to see and do. It's a reminder that our ideas of paradise are often fueled by novelty—and novelty, by nature, doesn't last forever. Expectations, the day-to-day, and Adaptability Some of the Paradise Paradox may be explained by how easy it is to build up expectations. If we imagine paradise as the ultimate fix, it could lead to disappointment if it doesn't live up to the dream. As for vorfreude—the joy of anticipation—the build-up can sometimes overshadow the reality. Then there's the simple truth that day-to-day life in paradise isn't a vacation. A tropical beach holiday lets you unwind and enjoy the scenery without a care. But living there might mean dealing with rainy seasons, work deadlines, or just regular old laundry. Humans are also remarkably adaptable. We're good at adjusting to new surroundings, which means something initially remarkable may soon become the new normal. It's a bit like the grass-is-greener mentality we see in many areas of life. If you're a consultant, you might long for the stability of an in-house role, while in-house folks might crave the variety of consulting. The Dark Side of the Paradise Paradox In some cases, the Paradise Paradox takes on a more serious tone. The documentary film The Paradise Paradox, executive produced by Olympic ski racer Bode Miller and filmmaker Brett Rapkin, explores how people drawn to the beauty and tranquility of US mountain towns sometimes face mental health struggles. These picturesque communities, though visually idyllic, have experienced higher-than-average rates of suicide, highlighting the challenges of living in remote, isolated settings. Strategies to Minimize the Pull of the Paradise Paradox To reduce the effect of the Paradise Paradox, it helps to focus on what brings fulfillment in any setting, allowing us to appreciate where we are without feeling the constant pull of an imagined paradise. Here are a few ways to lessen the allure: 1. Cultivating Gratitude Practicing gratitude allows us to recognize the value of what we already have. Focusing on the positives around us may make us less inclined to search elsewhere for happiness, realizing that contentment often lies closer than we think. 2. Prioritizing Experiences Over Material Goods Research consistently shows that experiences bring longer-lasting happiness than possessions. Prioritizing meaningful activities and memories can bring joy and satisfaction, outlasting the initial thrill of accumulating more. 3. Simplifying Life A minimalist approach can help reduce the constant desire for more—whether it's things, places, or achievements. Simplifying our lives can allow us to focus on what truly matters and bring a greater sense of peace. 4. Pursuing Meaningful Goals Focusing on personal growth, nurturing relationships, and contributing to our communities can offer a lasting sense of fulfillment that doesn't depend on our surroundings. Meaningful goals and connections often provide the depth of happiness that location alone can't bring. Paradise can certainly refresh us, but true and lasting happiness is often about embracing where we already are and what we already have. Since writing this I keep seeing related quotes: The only Zen you can find on the tops of mountains is the Zen you bring up there. — Robert M. Pirsig (via Waking Up) “We tend to attribute happiness to our circumstances (what happens to us) but studies suggest our happiness is really dependent on what we pay attention to.” — Cal Newport, Deep Work (via Mind Over Tech) "Happiness isn't getting what you want, it's wanting what you got." — Garth Brooks Wherever you go, there you are. Also see: The paradox of choice The transparency paradox The fresh start effect Vorfreude 5 ways to wellbeing

10 Nov

Isometric projection

Isometric projection is a simple way to draw 3D shapes. The meaning of isometric is "equal measure," from the Greek words iso- for equal and metric for measure. So, in an isometric drawing, all three axes, x, y, and z, are scaled equally, giving a clear, undistorted view of an object in three dimensions. Except that isometric drawings can look a little odd and oversimplified. This is because of the lack of perspective, a visual distortion of 3D shapes we experience in the real world. In a perspective drawing, parallel lines converge in the distance towards a vanishing point, but in an isometric drawing, parallel lines stay parallel, and sizes don't get smaller in the distance. The lack of perspective in an isometric view can make it look artificial, but it always looks clear. I learned isometric drawing when studying engineering. Armed with a stack of isometric paper with a printed isometric grid, we had to reel off exercises involving drawing isometric views of 3D objects. And isometric projection is really handy for this. It can take a long time to build the skills to sketch a realistic 3D-looking object, perspective and all, but with isometric paper, you can quite quickly produce something that communicates to you or others what's in your head or on the workbench. Isometric projection is handy for boxy shapes—I chose an approximation of the Bauhaus Dessau building by Walter Gropius to show it. If you need curves and angles, just like with perspective drawings, it can help to draw more boxes around these areas and use them to align your curves and meeting points for your lines. Isometric views and their variations have had somewhat of a resurgence of late in video and board games. It turns out they're pretty helpful in map-based or city-building games such as Zynga's Farmville, Civilisation, or Sim City as the isometric view allows all parts of a scene to be viewed equally—in the distance or up close—while still seeing every detail in, say, a building, wherever it is. If you want to try some isometric drawings, making your own isometric grid paper is easy. Just draw equally-spaced vertical stripes and then a criss-cross of lines in both directions at 30 degrees from the horizontal. This gives a host of equilateral triangles and an easy base to start drawing your 3D objects. Or just download some templates online. You'll find that building up more complex shapes out of cubes is dead simple if you keep to the lines on the isometric grid. Just as in the drawing here, sometimes shapes drawn in isometric view lend themselves to curious optical effects. The lack of perspective can make the difference between heights and depths ambiguous. So, you can't always tell if two surfaces are at very different heights or if one is in the distance. The brilliant puzzle game Monument Valley uses this quirk of isometric projection to create mind-bending puzzles that are well worth a try. For instance, rotating a high surface can suddenly make a platform that extends far into the distance 🤯. Isometric-like projection can also help make impossible shapes, such as the Impossible Staircase, or Penrose stairs. Another type of projection, anamorphosis, creates a drawing that only looks correct from a particular viewpoint. Anamorphosis leads to some remarkable street art. Also see: 2.5D objects, including an old video of me drawing a sketchplanation Orthographic projection One-point perspective Two-point perspective Three-point perspective Atmospheric perspective Anamorphosis The Impossible Staircase, or Penrose stairs When drawn nice and faint, the isometric grid is an example of a ghost grid Isometric projection is quite the opposite of "draw what you see, not what you think." Foreshortening can be hard to get the hang of. Life is 3D—give edges thickness…Isometric projection is a simple way to draw 3D shapes. The meaning of isometric is "equal measure," from the Greek words iso- for equal and metric for measure. So, in an isometric drawing, all three axes, x, y, and z, are scaled equally, giving a clear, undistorted view of an object in three dimensions. Except that isometric drawings can look a little odd and oversimplified. This is because of the lack of perspective, a visual distortion of 3D shapes we experience in the real world. In a perspective drawing, parallel lines converge in the distance towards a vanishing point, but in an isometric drawing, parallel lines stay parallel, and sizes don't get smaller in the distance. The lack of perspective in an isometric view can make it look artificial, but it always looks clear. I learned isometric drawing when studying engineering. Armed with a stack of isometric paper with a printed isometric grid, we had to reel off exercises involving drawing isometric views of 3D objects. And isometric projection is really handy for this. It can take a long time to build the skills to sketch a realistic 3D-looking object, perspective and all, but with isometric paper, you can quite quickly produce something that communicates to you or others what's in your head or on the workbench. Isometric projection is handy for boxy shapes—I chose an approximation of the Bauhaus Dessau building by Walter Gropius to show it. If you need curves and angles, just like with perspective drawings, it can help to draw more boxes around these areas and use them to align your curves and meeting points for your lines. Isometric views and their variations have had somewhat of a resurgence of late in video and board games. It turns out they're pretty helpful in map-based or city-building games such as Zynga's Farmville, Civilisation, or Sim City as the isometric view allows all parts of a scene to be viewed equally—in the distance or up close—while still seeing every detail in, say, a building, wherever it is. If you want to try some isometric drawings, making your own isometric grid paper is easy. Just draw equally-spaced vertical stripes and then a criss-cross of lines in both directions at 30 degrees from the horizontal. This gives a host of equilateral triangles and an easy base to start drawing your 3D objects. Or just download some templates online. You'll find that building up more complex shapes out of cubes is dead simple if you keep to the lines on the isometric grid. Just as in the drawing here, sometimes shapes drawn in isometric view lend themselves to curious optical effects. The lack of perspective can make the difference between heights and depths ambiguous. So, you can't always tell if two surfaces are at very different heights or if one is in the distance. The brilliant puzzle game Monument Valley uses this quirk of isometric projection to create mind-bending puzzles that are well worth a try. For instance, rotating a high surface can suddenly make a platform that extends far into the distance 🤯. Isometric-like projection can also help make impossible shapes, such as the Impossible Staircase, or Penrose stairs. Another type of projection, anamorphosis, creates a drawing that only looks correct from a particular viewpoint. Anamorphosis leads to some remarkable street art. Also see: 2.5D objects, including an old video of me drawing a sketchplanation Orthographic projection One-point perspective Two-point perspective Three-point perspective Atmospheric perspective Anamorphosis The Impossible Staircase, or Penrose stairs When drawn nice and faint, the isometric grid is an example of a ghost grid Isometric projection is quite the opposite of "draw what you see, not what you think." Foreshortening can be hard to get the hang of. Life is 3D—give edges thickness

3 Nov

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