Part Three: Words of a designer, trapped in a world of packages.

For the past twenty six or so years I've done what I was destined to do, thinking there was no such thing as a coincidence, just that's the way it was suppose to be (I'm thinking) only to find my self trapped. Aptly, I expressed that thought to my boss with the phrase "I sick of working on stupid problems with stupid people."

She said, "Could you give me an example?"

I was tempted, right then and there to say, "See, that's exactly what I mean", but it would not have been worth the effort. Anyways, it seems I have more to do now then ever, while getting paid less and not enjoying it, all while living in a hostile environment.

Makes me think of "I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more", an old song my Dylan and

at fifty-two, I don't wanna work on Maggie's farm no more, either.

Oh my God, I'm drawing my feet in words.

Long time ago and far, far away I began this journey saying what I thought, doing what I had to do. I don't know why I felt like that, but I did and still do. Moving along, I'd always known what to do next. I had a print in my mind.

The place where I worked let those ideas happen because they were the right "things" to happen and everybody benefited. All's well in a world like that.

Alas, come the incompetent, underselling and over-running to do the unnecessary, covering all and I do mean all, the bases.

What's that French word for presto, "Vhalla", development via local designers is out, packages, in.

The comparison, if you will allow me, is artistry compared to teaching, both rewarding yet the previous, I'd put it to you, more of a challenge.

I went to Manufacturing where I could work on, and "solve real problems".

That was August 1991.