Killing darlings (softly).


I've had the same general strategy since about 2014. That's when I split from my last (lovely) job, and struck out on my own. Since I made the Flickr Commons back in 2007-8, I'd realised I've found my people... people who work in and around heritage and culture. Those indefatigably interested collectors, classifiers, curators and conservators of ourselves and our world. That feeling was enough for me to move from one side of the world to another, and start from scratch on what I finally figured out I wanted: to spend more time with those people, and to use what I know to contribute.

Fun! Exciting!

I've had a blast. Working with some of the world's biggest museums, making lots more friends, and having people enjoying what I'm making, and buying what I'm selling! It's good.

But. It can also be tough to have loads of things you'd like to do. My personality tends towards big ideas that are hard to do - and I'm learning that can be a trait of the anxious mind, which has been interesting. In the last five years, I've enjoyed doing experimental software for big cultural collections (Good, Form & Spectacle), I've built a product company that sells its product (Museum in a Box), and I've maintained a fantasy around opening a small museum somewhere (The Small Museum). Recently, I came up with a name for that, the Museum of Normal.

My last Huge Idea was move to another country and open a museum (of normal) in a city I've never even been to.

That is not a good idea. Or rather, that is a Bloody Hard idea. Too big. So big it's practically impossible to start. You can think about them for... years, and never start or get there. Again, something apparently that anxious people do.

I did a small thing in 2015 called The Small Museum. It was a two week residency at Somerset House, a public-facing investigation, and a pretend museum. It was brilliant and I still refer to it. , which I'm grateful to my friend Cassie Robinson for proposing to me. It gave rise to the core interaction of Museum in a Box, the company I've built since then which is now looking really positive and well-known and simple. Fantastic!

What I have learned is that particular enjoyment and success doesn't necessarily mean I have to open a museum. I'm not convinced that's something I would or could do well. Even though it's romantic, for me, I've decided to kill the darling. For those who know me and have been hearing me talk about the idea of opening a museum for five years will be glad to hear it I'm sure. That's it. I'm not going to open my own museum. It's just too much.

I'd happily work at one that's already there, or maybe I'd do a tiny, fixed term version of Museum of Normal somewhere. I'd certainly very happily engage in a residency or other creative endeavour within one temporarily, because I truly love doing that.

So. No museum for me. More seeking of what I know I enjoy and can do really well, instead of future possible realities that cloud my intentions and occasionally make me feel despondent for not being able to do.

More on the anxiety later. I'm still reading up on it. (And acknowledging and admitting that it's an issue for me.)