Are you passionate about something? Do you know something inside out where others barely give it a glance?

As a schoolboy, I thought I was into birds—until my dad and I stayed with some family friends who were truly into birding.

They had a powerful telescope trained on the birds at the feeder in their garden. They had crystal-clear binoculars we used on a bird walk, which showed me birds clearer and closer than I'd ever seen. They knew what birds to look for and had tape recordings of specific bird calls that brought them to nearby bushes. They talked us through trips they'd been around the world to spot rare and remarkable birds.

Spending time with them changed how I saw birds forever. It was impossible to be around them and not start to love birds.

There are classic disciplines for geekiness: science, maths, computers, birdwatching, plane spotting, model trains.

But over the years, I've seen people geek out about so much more: gardening, plants, pottery, DJ'ing, Pokemon, sport, skiing, cycling, endurance, beekeeping, writing, business, spreadsheets, coding, magic tricks, sailing, a musical instrument, nightclubs, restaurants, personal development, gaming, crypto, cooking, travel, film, thrillers, local history, deals, football boots, coaching, shopping, clothes, cars, building, cameras, art, museums, relationships, pets, insects, decorating, and on and on.

If you don't pay close attention to Premier League football is boring, but if you follow every detail, it can be engrossing. I didn't think much of textiles, but I found it fascinating after spending an afternoon weaving in Laos.

One of the 5 Ways to Wellbeing is Take Notice. Being a geek is noticing everything about something. It can also Connect you with others and keep you Learning—two more of the five.

The word geek derives from a word meaning fool or freak as if it's foolish to devote so much attention and time to one area. But the truth is, as the physicist Richard Feynman says: "Nearly everything is really interesting if you go into it deeply enough."

"The moment one gives close attention to anything, even a blade of grass, it becomes a mysterious, awesome, indescribably magnificent world in itself."

Let's embrace our inner geeks. Dive deep into what fascinates you. Try not to dismiss others' passions until you've had a go at getting into depth yourself. Their joy could be just the same that you feel with something else.

Everyone's a geek about something. And that's wonderful.

This is a revised and expanded version of my original sketch, which had just a few passions. I've thought about it so much since I first heard the phrase—I couldn't remember where—that I thought it needed an update. And we had a blast talking about this on the podcast.

When putting together a draft of a Sketchplanations book, this was my first title idea (preview).

Related Ideas to Everyone's a Geek About Something

The writer's in the writing. The artist's in the art.

Everyone's a Geek About Something — Revised and Expanded

The reading from our wedding I remember most clearly is a passage from Kahlil Gibran's beautiful book, The Prophet. We were drawn to it then, and I still am now. The end of the passage offers one of the most beautiful, uplifting, and—at the time—surprising perspectives on marriage.

"And stand together yet not too near together:

   For the pillars of the temple stand apart,

   And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other's shadow."

From the outside, marriage often seems like a complete merging—becoming one, but perhaps also losing part of yourself in the process. I love that this passage says that two people can and should unite and support each other without lessening each other individually. We retain what makes us ourselves while being stronger together.

The image of the oak and the cypress has stayed with me ever since our wedding day.

The full passage from the Prophet is below:

  You were born together, and together you

  Ay, you shall be together even in the

  But let there be spaces in your togetherness,

  And let the winds of the heavens dance

  Let it rather be a moving sea between

  Fill each other's cup but drink not from

  Give one another of your bread but eat

  Sing and dance together and be joyous,

  Even as the strings of a lute are alone

  For only the hand of Life can contain

  For the pillars of the temple stand apart,

  And the oak tree and the cypress grow

Related Ideas to Grow Not in Each Other's Shadow

The 4 Horsemen of Relationship Apocalypse

Grow not in each other's shadow

Many of us absorb and sift through huge quantities of information on the web daily. We've trained ourselves to quickly pull out the most important information and decide if the rest is worth our time. When this happens, which is most of the time, people commonly use F-Shaped Reading.

F-Shaped Reading is a pattern seen in eye-tracking studies of people reading content on the web that seems to follow the shape of an F. That looks like scanning the top words most, maybe making it to the end of a headline. Then moving down the left-hand side and heading right again when we hit another sub-head or line that draws our attention.

In languages that read right-to-left, you can see a reverse F-shape.

We don't always read in an F-shape. There are several other common text-scanning patterns, such as spotted, layer-cake, marking, bypassing or commitment patterns—getting stuck in and reading the whole thing. However, an F-shaped reading, first identified around 2006, is still common and used on mobile devices.

F-Shaped Reading is about reading content. It's not how we might scan a shiny new web page with fancy navigation and CTAs (Calls To Action).

F-Shaped Reading means that your headline and your first sub-head matter a lot. And also, the content on the left matters more as a way to draw people into your work.

But it doesn't have to be this way. An F-shape arises because we're trying to be efficient and decide if this page is worth more of our time.

It's hard to get that from a block of text, so we improvise—getting an idea of the content areas from the headlines and trying to see which content blocks, if any, are relevant to read by scanning quickly down the page.

I'm not too proud to admit that you may be scanning this.

Improving on F-Shaped Reading and Helping Our Readers

F-Shaped Reading, to my knowledge, is from the NN Group, who also has a comprehensive article on it. They have a useful list of antidotes, which I paraphrase below, together with a few additions of my own:

Front-load words in headings and bullets with the most information (check the first word of the titles in this post)

Group related content visually — see 7 Gestalt principles

Ensure links have information-bearing words (information scent)—rewrite to avoid "click here"

Avoid big blocks of text and use a sketch instead (Sketchplanation anyone?) =)

Use visuals and captions as gateways to content

Mobile is snorkelling. Desktop is diving (less true these days)

F-Shaped Reading

It took me a long time in my professional life to learn that my chances of getting what I wanted increased significantly if I asked for it.

It seems obvious, but somehow, between politeness, awkwardness, fear of rejection, or humility, I forgot. As a child, I had no hesitation in asking for things. But somewhere along the way, I got out of the habit.

Like in a relationship, asking for what you want avoids others having to guess—and potentially getting it wrong. If no one knows what you need, it's easy to feel overlooked, even when no one meant to ignore you.

That's not to say asking is easy or without risk. Social norms, power dynamics, and biases mean that the same request can be received very differently depending on who asks. In some cases, asking outright might even backfire. But when possible, asking remains a powerful tool.

Sometimes, asking is an obligation. If you're seething with resentment because you stayed late at work when you really needed to be back early today, that serves no one very well. You might do a worse job and be unhappy to boot. If there's something you need to be happy in your job and your manager doesn't know, it's hard for them to help.

Twenty years ago, my wife and I went on an expedition to climb Mt Kenya. As we reached camp on the second day of hiking, one group member shared that he couldn't eat any foods containing gluten. By then, finding alternatives was challenging—the meals had been planned and packed days before—and jeopardised the whole trip.

To ask for what you want, you must first figure out what you want. This isn't always straightforward, and it's easy to drift along without thinking about what you'd like and where you want to go. Doing the hard work to figure that out helps you and those you work with when planning and opportunities for change arise.

You might never get what you ask for. But I've found that even when I didn't get what I wanted at the time, I sometimes got what I asked for later. When people know what you're looking for, they're more likely to think of you when the right moment comes.

Is there something you want but haven't actually asked for? Maybe now's the time.

"You get in life what you have the courage to ask for."

Whose Job Is It?: The Responsibility Poem

Asking for What You Want

The blur your eyes test is a way to evaluate the big picture and clarity of communication and designs by squinting to blur your eyes. Good designs give you a sense of the structure, even through a blurry lens. Poor designs leave you no wiser.

The blur your eyes test is a practical first screen for evaluating most communication, even if you don't consider yourself a designer. It works because it's simple and tests whether you're making life easy for the reader.

To try it, head to a well-designed web page and squint until your vision is blurred. Can you still get an idea of the page even without seeing the details?

If I blur my eyes, where do I expect the key message to be, and what are the supporting messages? Where do I expect to click if I want to continue? My team probably got sick of me squinting my eyes, asking them to do the same, and reporting that it wasn't apparent to me what to expect.

Because people naturally skim content, making it as easy as possible to understand your message is essential. Clear hierarchy. Obvious next steps. It's also why Happy Talk Must Die and why wireframes and low-fidelity prototyping are helpful.

I spent a little time with Stanford design Professor Larry Leifer. Like all Professors, people constantly inundated him with requests for his time and expertise—I sometimes wonder how talented academics cope. If you were writing to him—or anyone—you could help him and yourself by being clear.

Clear was not just in the message and the words you wrote but also in the structure of your writing. He told me that he felt you should be able to narrow your eyes to blur your vision and still see the basic structure of an email: greeting, intro or context, ask, sign off. Well-structured emails were more likely to get his attention and response because you'd made it easy for him to deal with.

I've applied that tiny snippet of advice thousands of times since when writing emails, Slack messages, product releases, announcements, invitations, page designs, banners, chats and articles. As I reviewed more and more designs, I would use it to check, "Are we making this easy for the reader?"

And yes, I also use it for Sketchplanations. Try blurring your eyes on past sketches and see if you think they pass—I'm sure I don't always manage it. It's also part of why I love the idea sketch format on which I've based so many sketches.

The blur-your-eyes test works to communicate with busy people—and we're all busy people when we're trying to find what we want on the internet.

As a separate lesson, another Stanford Professor, Bernie Roth, also taught me that a short, polite, timely rejection is much more valuable than a delayed, in-depth rejection.

The Blur Your Eyes Test

Any success takes one in a row. Do one thing well, then another. Once, then once more. Over and over until the end, then it's one in a row again.

— Matthew McConaughey
From the book Greenlights

Big things start small. It's easy to get caught up in trying to do everything at once, but you have to start somewhere. You don't need to complete the whole row today. Every sustained success starts with the first one. Sketchplanations started as one in a row.

After the first few successes, the power of streaks can take over. Oh, and never miss twice.

I created a series of sketches on getting started. Find them at: https://sketchplanations.com/categories/starting

Greenlights is full of fun stories. I highly recommend the audiobook of Greenlights with Matthew McConaughey's full-of-life performance—like no other audiobook I've listened to.

Related Ideas to the One-in-a-Row Principle

One in a Row

This week, I released a short second collection of piano-based tracks called Deep Down and Not Forgotten.

May I ask a favour? If you enjoy the music, would you please click to save/like on each track or the album to help others find it? Thank you. If you want to follow me as an artist that also helps.

My sketch this week is related: one-buttock playing.

We all experience the power of music to move us either as players or listeners.

In his entertaining and insightful TED talk about The Transformative Power of Classical Music, Benjamin Zander begins with a memorable sequence of imitating a child learning to play the piano. With each new year of practice, the child's playing becomes more gentle, more accomplished, and more emotional.

When playing as if an eleven-year-old, now leaning into the music, only one buttock in contact with the piano stool, Ben Zander says,

"I don't know how we got into this position.

I didn't say, 'I'm going to move my shoulder over, move my body.' No, the music pushed me over, which is why I call it one-buttock playing."

"You know, a gentleman was once watching a presentation I was doing, when I was working with a young pianist. He was the president of a corporation in Ohio. I was working with this young pianist, and said, 'The trouble with you is you're a two-buttock player. You should be a one-buttock player.' I moved his body while he was playing. And suddenly, the music took off. It took flight. The audience gasped when they heard the difference. Then I got a letter from this gentleman. He said, 'I was so moved. I went back and I transformed my entire company into a one-buttock company.'"

For me, one-buttock playing means going with the music, letting it take you, and being fully involved, ignoring everything else. It's like reaching a state of Flow, or, as in Pixar's movie Soul, being in "the Zone." And as a more general metaphor, one-buttock playing is a fun reminder to give your all to an activity and be in the moment. Also, buttock is just a funny word.

There are many ways to get into Flow. You can be in Flow working on a spreadsheet. But no spreadsheet has the same effect that music can or matches how I feel when playing and composing on the piano (have a listen).

Zander doesn't mention it in his talk, but expertise is key to one-buttock playing. The younger pianists he emulates don't experience one-buttock playing—they're too busy trying to play the damn piece properly in the first place.

One-buttock playing emerges only when they are skilful enough and know the piece inside and out. In other words, to lose yourself in the emotion or expression of a piece of music or a challenge, you must first master the craft. Once the execution is the baseline, you create space to focus on the expression.

So it is, I think, with all pursuits. Picasso could sketch with abandon because he'd first mastered painting. Shakespeare could play with language because he'd first mastered it. Federer could make tennis look like an art form because his mastery of the fundamentals gave him freedom on the court. A great CEO can take a company to new heights only when the team executes the basics like clockwork.

You may remember Benjamin Zander from the leadership sketch Leading from Any Chair

Collective Effervescence: the magic of shared experience

Match Challenge with Skills for Flow at Work

One-buttock playing

The Chinese Zodiac is a yearly cycle of 12 animals who finished first in the Jade Emperor's Great Race.

Chinese New Year 2025 marks the start of the Year of the Snake, followed by the Year of the Horse in 2026, and so on through the 12 Chinese zodiac animals.

The Chinese lunar calendar is based on the cycles of the moon—lunisolar—meaning the New Year shifts slightly each year. Also known as the Spring Festival, the New Year marks the shift between Winter and Spring. It begins on the new moon that appears between 21 January and 20 February, typically falling between late January and mid-February. Celebrations continue until the Lantern Festival, 15 days later.

Chinese Zodiac Animals and Personality Traits

Each Chinese zodiac sign is thought to shape the personality of those born in that year. If you were born in the Year of the Rat, you might be quick-witted and charming, while those born in the Year of the Dragon are often confident and enthusiastic.

I always forget the full list of Chinese New Year animals—it's one of those things that's beyond 7 ± 2 and just won't stick in my head. So here it is, for future reference:

The Legend of the Great Race: Why These 12 Animals?

The Chinese zodiac animals are from an old legend: the Great Race. The Jade Emperor, Chinese mythology's ruler of all gods, hosted a great race across a river. The first 12 animals to finish would earn a place in the Chinese zodiac calendar.

Cat and Rat, who were friends, hitched a ride on the back of Ox, who slowly swam through the river's deep water. As they crossed, Rat moved, knocking Cat into the river, but it was too dangerous to go back. As Ox neared the other bank, Rat jumped off, swimming the final metres and winning first place. Meanwhile, Dragon, despite being powerful, stopped to help others and finished fifth. Cat was left behind and finished last with a new dislike for rats.

Not all countries use the exact same Chinese zodiac signs. Vietnam, for example, swaps out two animals:

Chinese New Year is full of traditions designed to bring good fortune:

Red envelopes (hóngbāo) – Given to children and unmarried adults, filled with money as a symbol of luck and prosperity.

Lanterns – Hung up or released into the sky, symbolizing brightness and good fortune.

Firecrackers – Set off to scare away evil spirits and welcome the Lunar New Year with a bang.

Red and gold – The most common colours in Chinese New Year decorations, representing happiness, wealth, and good luck.

washing your hair can wash out your luck for the year

giving oranges and tangerines to hosts as symbols of abundant happiness

sweeping and cleaning the house to sweep away ill fortune

decorating windows and doors with red paint, paper cutouts and banners

giving respect and honour to gods and ancestors.

Not sure of your animal or your child's? You can find yours in this list (unless you're over 80).

If your birthday is before the Chinese New Year in January, then your animal will belong to the year before (rather like for birthday creep).

The Chinese Zodiac: Animals, Years, and Meanings

How many things are much nicer than wrapping yourself snugly under the covers in bed and ignoring the world for a little longer? That's the meaning of the 18th-century dialect word Snerdle.

Snerdle (verb) is from Yorkshire dialectologist Joseph Wright's English Dialect Dictionary. He gives the definition of snerdle, with examples, as:

SNERDLE, v. [snə̄·dl.] To nestle closely; to wrap up comfortably in bed; to go comfortably off to sleep. “Snerdle the child up; make it comfortable.” “The children are snerdling together nicely.” “I think the baby will soon snerdle off.”

Shared by British lexicographer and etymologist Susie Dent in her book Word Perfect: Etymological Entertainment Every Day, snerdling suits a grey, chilly, rainy winter day—which is what we have here—or, at times, hiding from current events.

Susie also lets us know: "Snuzzle, snoodge, and snerdle: all verbs in the English Dialect Dictionary for snuggling under the covers as though your life depended on it."

Like snerdling? There's also the old Scottish word hurkle-durkle. Hurkle-durkling is revelling in staying in bed long after you should have gotten up. Aaah, bliss.

Kaffikok: the distance you can travel before needing a cup of coffee

Schadenfreude: pleasure at someone else's misfortune

Greeble: elements that give detail and scale and make something look more advanced

Days of the week: the Norse gods among us

Tsundoku: acquiring books and letting them pile up without reading them

Halfalogue: hearing half of a phone conversation

Snerdle

Why is the save icon in your software a floppy disk that no one has used for over 20 years? And that phone icon looks nothing like your mobile phone when making a call. These are both skeuomorphs.

A skeuomorph is when a new design borrows practical elements from a former design and repurposes them in a functional or ornamental way.

Skeuomorphs are practical because they make new systems more intuitive. Their comfort and familiarity can help bridge old and new ways. For example, some electric cars are designed to look like they have air intake vents like traditional combustion cars.

More poetically, a skeuomorph can offset the loss of physical reality when interacting with our digital devices.

The save icon is a floppy disk from the 1980s and '90s

The shopping cart in an online shopping site

Sliders and knobs, or even connecting wires, are made to look like analogue mixing desks and gear in music software (music software is awash with skeuomorphs)

A link icon represented by a link of a physical chain

Dials and levers or a funnel representing filters

Shadows under boxes on a webpage simulate light falling on a surface to show depth

Grab bars are indications of friction points where you can change the order of a list

I once read that when designing, if you can't think of an icon for your feature in about five seconds, you probably need to write the word, as not everyone will understand it.

Not all digital icons are skeuomorphs: the printer as the print icon and the folded page for a page layout still map to their physical counterparts.

Slot machine levers that change the state of a circuit rather than spin any wheels.

Fake wood grain is used on floors or interiors.

Haptic feedback—a simulated click when pressing on a touchscreen.

Speed camera signs in the UK use a stylised visual of a classic Kodak Brownie camera.

Rivets on jeans are from when fixing denim together required more than just stitching.

Electric cars sometimes include imitation air vents at the front that cool traditional combustion engines.

Car hub caps with spoke designs from early wheels.

Textured wallpaper, such as Anaglypta, echoes leather wall hangings with scored patterns.

There's even a design for an early car with a fake horse head on the front—though the inventor designed it to avoid scaring other horses on the road.

A smartwatch isn't just a watch; it's a computer you wear on your wrist.

The imitation shutter sound of taking a photo on your phone

Simulated engine noise on an electric car

Skeumorphs in Software and User Interfaces

Software and the digital domain are ripe places for spotting skeuomorphs, as they don't have physical characteristics—it's all 1s and 0s that we can't see or interact with.

Apple's early iPhone interfaces were famous for skeuomorphic elements, such as a Contacts app that resembled a contacts book complete with tabs—tabs are also skeuomorphic— and fake leather or paper effects in note apps.

Skeuomorphs, like metaphors in design, are helpful. In a magic box that can do anything—a mobile phone—a visual connection to a physical object with a defined purpose helps immediately tell you what something might be or do.

As the digital world gradually becomes the first interaction for so many uses, skeuomorphs may become less common. But we'll see them around for decades yet.

Skeuomorph is not a recent term. It was coined by archaeologist Henry Colley March by combining the Greek skeuos (σκεῦος) for container or tool and morphe (μορφή) for shape.

Skeuomorphs have been used in art and architecture since ancient times. For example, they are decorative features of stone buildings that mimic structural elements from older wooden ones, such as protruding rafters. Ancient pottery sometimes includes decorative rope patterns on the surface.

The BBC has a lovely radio piece on Skeuomorphs, Design, and Modern Craft with novelist Will Self. The piece discusses their subtler side and some great examples, some of which I've included here. In the same episode, they also mention the zombie walk with faces lit by the glowing screen from a phone.

"The content is the interface"—Sam Moreau

Skeuomorph

Feedback analysis is a technique to improve judgment and discover your strengths. It could hardly be more simple:

Write down what you think will happen whenever you make a key decision.

In 9–12 months, compare what you predicted against what has happened.

I learned about feedback analysis from management consultant Peter Drucker in the small Harvard Business Review read Managing Oneself. He argues that we can only make our most significant contributions when we act from our strengths. Most people don't know their strengths, so the first step is to discover them. Feedback analysis helps you do this.

Feedback analysis reveals your strengths by showing you where you are right in your predictions and which of your intended actions achieve what you hoped. It also shows you your weaknesses, where your expectations are consistently wrong, and where your actions fall short.

Drucker suggests, "First and foremost, concentrate on your strengths. Put yourself where your strengths can produce results."

The Opportunity to do What I do Best Every Day

One of my favourite self-management reads is Strengthsfinder 2.0 by Tom Rath. It also argues that we have the most significant impact, not when we focus on fixing areas where we are weak but when we can make full use of our strengths.

The five greatest strengths I learned from that book are valuable for me to reflect on today. In fact, Sketchplanations is in some way a reflection of this:

Ideation – you can probably tell I am drawn to and full of ideas.

Achiever - consistently creating and moving on.

Relator - okay, less so this one, unless it's relating through writing and sharing. Being a relator is about building strong 1:1 relationships.

Learner - I am always adding to my stock of concepts.

Focus - making space to stay on task and get things done.

I like to ask myself and my team members: "Do I have the opportunity to do what I do best every day?" Then, we get the best out of ourselves and others.

Some situations where you might put feedback analysis into action:

Dan Pink has a 3-minute video summary of this technique in his Pinkcast. He says it's useful for at least 3 reasons:

It's a great way to understand your strengths.

It makes him a little bolder—after being consistently a little pessimistic in expectations, it caused him to try more new things.

Dan says he takes a moment to write his expectations in his "Drucker memo" when beginning each new project. He then files it away and schedules a reminder in 6 months to take a look and see if his expectations are accurate. Simple.

Have you got any big decisions coming up? Maybe give feedback analysis a try.

Peter Drucker is known, among other things, for coining the term "knowledge worker."

"I have the opportunity to do what I do best every day" is one of the 12 Elements of Great Managing.

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