Every New Years, my friends and I do the same thing. We cook. We eat. We drink. We reflect.
We reflect on the stories of the past year—that time we threw up on the couch, that time we became born-again-virgins from involuntary abstinence, that time we fell in-and-out of love with our real-estate broker.
This New Years was no different. We cooked. We ate. We drank. Then it was time to reflect.
Around the table we went. My neck turning and chair swiveling as we listened to one another’s stories.
Eventually, the necks turned and the chairs swiveled towards me.
The page loads—a three-dimensional blob hits me—squishing around like a dismembered Pillsbury doughboy. 3D is in and I have no idea how to get started...
It's Thursday, 1pm. Another shit-ass wintry day in NYC. I've just had a green smoothie (like an asshole) and design twitter is raging. A new, early access product has launched. I click.
The page is littered with 3D designs and animations.
Have you ever been here? Blankly staring at some design—desperately wishing you made it. I imagine that fucked up Mucinex-Booger whispering: "Brendan, you're a shit designer. You're too old? busy? stupid? 3D design is for cooler, hotter, less insecure designers."