It's fitting that there is snow on the ground this New Years Eve. It muffles the sound and slows down a year, a decade that seemed to fragment and shatter. Not only at its end, but in cycles of crystalline bubbles and bursts—like the champagne music of Lawrence Welk. So, after spinning that bottle again and again, each time forgetting the killer hangover, we are at the end.
Architecture, publishing, and design all suffered massive hits this year and as 2010 dawns they will have to reshape or die. It will happen from the bottom up.
Yet, I am optimistic for 2010. Friends, colleagues, and collaborators are scheming. New ideas are brewing. Nothing is monetizable, yet. But there is a notable shift to a "do it anyway" sensibility that comes from being rudely sobered after binge-drinking mid-decade riches.
Last year I predicted that the future is not what it used to be. It's still not. We're still kinda screwed. But, at midnight I'll raise a glass to the somewhat-hardened, bad-ass folks who are questioning, building, writing, thinking, curating, and editing right now.
Happy New Year.