change, habit, happiness, innovation, routine

Change for Notice

Christa Avampato

I had dinner with my friends Chas and Amanda over the weekend and we got into a discussion about the importance of change. On Friday I needed to stop by the post office in midtown and it would be best for me to take the ACE to Times Square. I couldn’t recall where I’d seen the ACE sign though I know I see it everyday when I got off at the subway stop at work. Turns out it’s actually the same stop that houses the 23 (my line) and the ACE. Everyday I look at that sign and couldn’t recall the ACE symbols. Chas was telling me that at his former job they would change the colors of important signs around the office so people wouldn’t get numb to seeing them the way I did with the subway. 


On my way home from dinner I thought about the comforts and dangers of routines. How quickly we can get used to circumstances the way they are and grow apathetic to them to the point where we don’t know how we got from point A to point B. We stop being present and fall into this mental fog that clouds our ability to fully experience our lives. And that fog is heavy to lift, and diminishes joy. 

I’m wondering if there is a time for routines and a time for changing everything up. Are routines ever good for us? Do we have to recognize that they serve their purpose for a short period and then we have to break from them and find a new way? Is renewal critical to happiness?
art, museum, New York City, Whitney Museum

Buckminster Fuller

Christa Avampato

I went to the Whitney today with friends Dan, Steve, and Liane. It was our inaugural museum / dinner quarterly outing. (As just decided by Steve at the conclusion of our time at the Whitney.) Dan and I had been planning to go to the Buckminster Fuller exhibit for a good 6 weeks and finally our schedules aligned today. Luckily Steve and Liane were free as well. 


Fuller is an interesting guy, though after an hour long tour by a woman who is clearly a scholar and viewing close to 100 pieces of his work, I’m still not sure if or how he is relevant to the art and architecture worlds. Entirely self-taught, he can’t be called a designer, architect, or engineer. (Leaving me highly skeptical about his relevance to begin with.) At 32, the age I am now, he had an epiphany that rather than commit suicide by drowning himself in Lake Michigan, he would spend his time as a guinea pig of design, throwing out crazy ideas one after another and seeing if any of them stick to help improve the quality of life on this planet. Hmmmm…I am growing more skeptical by the minute. 

Fuller was very concerned with a handful of concepts and activities: marketing and branding, developing a design language all his own, optimism under all circumstances, and the state of the human condition. Now I’m growing a bit more interested. And then two other facts really pulled me in: he did not give a lick about the historical preservation of architecture (he cared only about the futuristic city) and he was so obsessed with the ideation / prototyping phase of a project that none of his ideas ever made it to market. 

As someone who loves the history of architecture and often spends days walking around a city just looking at buildings, I’m horrified that anyone in this field would ever admit to not caring one way or another if any architecture is ever preserved. And then I considered how many people I know who love thinking up ideas with no ability / desire to execute them. I like endings; I enjoy completing projects and reveling in the analysis of the outcome. (Perhaps that’s because I was born a Pisces, the last sign of the zodiac.) I cannot imagine anyone loving to think up ideas for ideas’ sake and not doing what it takes to see those ideas realized first-hand. To say you are a visionary with no ability to operate is like saying you would enjoy the company of other people if only you didn’t love to hide in your apartment. A million good ideas have no relevance if you don’t have the inkling to make them come to life. Or do they?

My friends and I left the exhibit interested and confused. Why on Earth would the Whitney devote an entire floor to a man who couldn’t get things done? I thought about this on my walk to dinner. This sliding scale of a man, equal parts genius and crack-pot. This man with no formal training who has talents that defied any kind of definition. A man without a community. 

I wonder if it is people like Buckminster Fuller who provide the shoulders for us to stand on to do great things after him. He could see that building environmentally sustainable vehicles and communities would be important, even if he didn’t have the ability to get them built. He could see that we were building so much manufacturing capability in this country that someday those resources would have to be used in new ways such as green energy production. So the question becomes can someone else with more energy and organization pick up the good points of his ideas and run with them to create something that benefits humanity in a tangible way? Maybe that is his lasting legacy: he confused, inspired, and infuriated us so much that people picked apart his ideas and salvaged the pieces that could be brought to life with a little ingenuity and a lot of hard work. Not a bad legacy for a man who almost ended it all at 32 on the shores of Lake Michigan. No bad at all. 
productivity, time, to-do lists, work

In Praise of Emptiness

Christa Avampato

I’m looking at my to-do lists for the weekend. 23 items, some of them time consuming. And this is just a typical low-key weekend for me. No traveling, I’m not hosting any event, none of the tasks require advanced preparation. 23 items – exactly who do I think I am that I can finish a first week of a job, jam pack my weekend, and be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for Monday morning?


This week in the New York Times, there was an article entitled “A Place and an Era in Which Time Could Stand Still“. It discusses the need to let kids have some time with nothing to do during summer camp rather than cramming activity after activity into their days. And this consideration is worth a look for adults, too, especially those engaged in creative pursuits. We need time to let our task-master minds unwind if we are to get at our best creative thinking. It’s buried beneath all of our to-do lists and action items.     

Why do we keep doing this to ourselves? Why are we obsessed with the need to be productive at every moment. Our European neighbors have a way of looking at life that is practically the antithesis of the American view – they enjoy life and the people around them. They savor the experience of life and the simple happiness that comes from lingering over a cup of coffee and a good book in an outdoor cafe. We chug the coffee and speed read the book in a packed subway car. Is it any wonder that we are dealing with so many health issues and a general lack of enjoyment in this country?

Recognizing this need to unwind, the editors at Real Simple Magazine put together a 14-day stress detox program. I looked for an on-line link but the list is only available in print and includes things like taking time to be grateful and investing a little time in gardening of any kind, even if it’s just a windowsill house plant. It’s well worth the look with one caveat – I would recommend stretching out the changes and enjoying them, reflecting on them, and fully ingesting their meaning and power. The last thing we need is another deadline and a another item on a rushed to-do list.   
career, dreams, friendship, work

Getting to what’s possible

Christa Avampato

Considering the possible alongside the impossible is one of the joyful dichotomies in product development. The excitement bubbles over when you begin to consider, and help others consider, what it would take to remove those two tiny letters, “im”, from the latter. Put another way it’s the commitment of individuals – I am (I’m) going to remove them, and help others do the same.

Yesterday, I had dinner with my college friend, Chris. I hadn’t seen him in 10 years! He’s now at Carnegie Hall working on the international education exchange program. And along the way we have both become interested in technology as a way to communicate art, and we got into a long discussion about vision and funding, whether that funding comes from donors for a nonprofit or from sales and investors for a for-profit company. Money can and often in time does follow vision. The opposite does not work. No leader can gain vision by having funding, and any leader who thinks (s)he can or should progress in that order is setting himself / herself up for a rude awakening.

And yet, it happens all the time. Organizations lose their way. Companies forget their core customer or core competency in favor of some hot trend or a fervent desire to just grow and make as much money as possible. It might work in the short-term; in the long-run failure is nearly certain. In the case of vision, an ounce of prevention is worth a least a pound of cure. So how do we, as individuals and as organizations, stay true to who we are and keep our vision front and center?

I have a few ways that I maintain my vision for my life. I have the great gift of being able to delude myself for a very short period of time (about 60 seconds several times per year). On occasion, I take a minute (literally) and imagine what I’d like to be doing, right now, if money didn’t matter. If I’m doing something radically different, chances are I’m on the wrong track. My writing helps – in print, it’s much harder to lie to yourself. We have this built-in filter that does not allow us to put falsehoods to paper without feeling really awful about ourselves. I also consider my level of sleepiness. While most people may consider their sound sleep to be a good sign, if I’m feeling worn out at the end of the day, sleeping dead to the world, something is terribly wrong. If I’m energized and ready to go 20 hours a day, then I know good stuff is happening.

And in recent months, I have thought a lot about one other remedy. I am still mourning the loss of Tim Russert, especially as this election grows closer and closer. I still flip on the Today Show and expect him to be there guiding us, coaching us along. And the sentiment that everyday he woke up as if he’d just won the lottery sticks with me. I think about people like Tim, people I admire and look up to, and consider whether or not I’d be proud to tell them what I’m doing with my days if I ever had the chance to meet them. In short, I’m trying to win the lottery of life everyday, and trying to take as many others with me as possible. That’s my vision.

friendship, New York City

Public Transportation and Old Friends

Christa Avampato

On Sunday I drove to East Haven, Connecticut – my last drive in my car. I took it to Carmax for a painless 45 minute selling process. Slightly above Blue Book Value, check in-hand. I took a cab to a train (which broke down, delaying me another hour) to a bus. I had forgotten how sensitive my stomach is to jerky motions on a bus or train and I got sick on the sidewalk as soon as I got off the bus (a truly New York moment) and then was sick all night, too. Not an ideal situation the day before starting my new job. Welcome to the ups and downs of a public transit girl’s life.  


The one saving grace of last night was that my dear friend, Mark, is in town rehearsing for a show and he is staying only a few blocks away. We used to spend a lot of time together when we worked on The Full Monty. And when I saw him yesterday, despite my queasy stomach, I was grinning from ear to ear. And despite the fact that I haven’t seen him in 4 years, we picked up our friendship right where we left off. Laughing and talking with the ease of old friends. 

Visiting with Mark reminded me about beginnings and endings and cycles in our lives. I used to think that I’ve had three constants in my life in recent years: my cell phone number, my mom, and my car. Now, I’ve traded in that car for a subway card (and a hefty supply of Dramamine). That leaves me with my cell number and my mom, both of which I am glad to have. And my time with Mark reminded me of all those people who have made such a difference in my life, even if I don’t get to see them all the time. 

Even across distance and time, there are those people who keep cropping up, who stick with us despite the hectic nature of our lives. Just knowing they’re out there, that all the memories that we have of them and they have of us keep the best parts of us alive and well, makes each day a little easier to get through. And these people, these angels in my life, seem to re-appear when I need them most. Just when I am setting off on a new adventure, like my new job, or trying to get through an ending. These people keep the cycle going, and consequently keep us moving forward.   
Beijing, NBC, Olympics, sports, television

NBC’s Olympics website

Christa Avampato

I’ve started to have discussions with some companies and non-profits about the possibility of integrating social media into their marketing plans. Originally when I considered this type of consulting work, I thought the issue would be content creation. What I’m finding is that it’s about commitment and organization – the same two issues that companies struggle with in many aspects of their business. 


For the past week, I’ve been obsessed with watching the Olympics, and like so many people across the world, I am most keen on women’s gymnastics and the U.S. men’s swim team. I want to see Michael Phelps get his 8 gold medals in Beijing and I wanted to see Nastia Liukin win the all-around. Michael’s got 7 and Nastia surprised everyone, including herself, with her win in the all-around. 

I was so excited to see that NBC had created so much incredible content and integrated so much functionality into their Olympics website. Sadly, the organization is so frustrating that after a few visits of endless clicking, I’ve all but given up on trying to figure out the televised schedule. And that’s the trouble with an abundance of great content – all of a sudden the management and organization of it becomes just as critical as the information itself. 

I was surprised that NBC didn’t think through the site design more thoroughly. NBC had so much time to plan out how they would cover these games that the expectations of fans skyrocketed, mine included. I wanted it to be a piece of cake to navigate the website and find exactly the content I was looking for with barely any effort on my part. If anything, I’ve had to spend much more time sorting through the site and rarely find what I am looking for. I guess the network doesn’t hold simplicity in very high regard.

I take my hat off to the content creators of that Olympics website and to the many reporters who are contributing to the coverage; what the network really needed was a simplicity expert who actually understands how to use new media. With a once-in-a-lifetime event like these Beijing Games, it’s a shame that the executives didn’t see that for themselves.  It’s not abut throwing as much information in there as possible – this isn’t a flea market or a treasure hunt – and they certainly had enough money to do it right. Here’s hoping that they’ll learn from this error in time to make adjustments for their 2010 and 2012 coverage.         
corporation, economy, magazine, money, The Economist

A By-product of a Tough Economy: Enemies as Friends, or at Least as Willing Partners

Christa Avampato

I don’t know anyone who says, “Thank God the economy is tanking!” That doesn’t mean there aren’t some positive, and unexpected, side effects of our latest economic decline. With dollars scarce, investors leery, and earnings expectations scrutinized like never before, companies previously considered bitter enemies are sharing marketing dollars, cross-promoting one another, and sharing best practices.


And we’re not just talking about retailers like Bed, Bath, and Beyond and The Container Store who have a very small amount of overlap in product. This week in The Economist there is an article detailing that even bitter rivals like the New York Post and the Daily News are discussing ways to share distribution; car companies are considering the co-production of common parts. 

These kinds of previously unheard of collaborations beg the question about competition: Is the competition level to the extent that we have it in the U.S. necessary, or even sustainable? Is it good for us? I don’t doubt that healthy competition is the basis of a stable free economy; it is the corner stone of a capitalistic society. But is too much competition, well, too much?

I think about all the choices that we have in grocery stores, big box retailers, car lots, and the endless supply of different brands of products available on-line that do essentially the same thing. Look at all our choices of social networks and on-line communities. My friend, Jon, and I were discussing the likelihood that at some point some of them have to die out or merge. Maybe the same is true for companies like newspapers, retailers, and car manufacturers. Tough times can make strange, though perhaps necessary, bedfellows. And maybe they’ll even persist once we come out the other side of this latest downturn. In difficult times, maybe we learn to mend fences and see their value even when we don’t have our backs against the wall.             
books, religion

Grace (Eventually)

Christa Avampato

Anne Lamott is one of my favorite authors – secretly I’d love to have her as a dear friend because I love her combination of wit, cynicism, and hopefulness. An ecclectic mixture with various aspects shining through depending upon the situation at hand. Most recently, I read her first book on the discovery and development of her faith, Grace (Eventually), partly because I’d read anything she writes and partly because I am in the midst of a similar journey. 


As a general rule, I am afraid of organized religion. When people ask me my religion I tell them I am a recovering Catholic. My mother, lovely though she is, still gives me grief about the fact that I purposely avoided the Pope’s recent visit to NYC, turning down her numerous attempts to get me a ticket. She still hasn’t fully come to grips with my lack of Christianity. I understand – I imagine it’s hard to have a child who blatantly refuses to follow the path you raised her on. 

For years, my faith as been based in my belief in goodness, found in the beauty of nature, and considered while on my yoga mat and in my daily meditation. I haven’t been able to bring myself to committing to a community, a church of any kind, even though I think the public announcement of faith can be very beneficial. 

I’ve flirted with the idea of joining a church several times. Most recently when I was living in D.C., I did go to a Catholic Church that I loved, even though I reject most ideas of the Catholic Church. I was lonely and sad and so unhappy with my job that I began to have panic attacks on Sunday nights. So I went to church because it calmed me down and gave me some strength for the coming week. Plus, I thought the priest was cute. Sorry. 

My friends Matthew and Alex attend a Unitarian Church in D.C. and on a recent visit I accepted their invitation to go with them. The sermon was about grace and its meaning and importance. I love that Unitarians accept everyone wherever they are whatever they believe. That kind of organized religion I can live with. Lamott’s book reflects that same kind of acceptance of people and their circumstances. And she spends a lot of time explaining that we can all find grace (eventually) on our own terms. It’s hard won but worth the effort. And she’s accepting of the fact that she’s not perfect in her faith and that she occasionally has a bad attitude. Her idea of faith is that it understands that we all make mistakes, we all veer off the path every once in a while, and the only requirement is that we commit to be gentle and patient with ourselves and with the world around us. The only thing we really must do is love, ourselves and others. 

For the first time in a long time, I feel unafraid to at least consider the idea of organized religion in my life again. And I have Matthew, Alex, and Lamott to thank for that. Maybe my grace is on the way. 
career, corporation, job, work

Survive and Thrive

Christa Avampato

I woke up this morning wholly unemployed. Sort of. I’m being paid through Thursday, which I greatly appreciate, though I’m not actually going to work. Yesterday was my last day in the office. My suspicion is that my access to information because of who I worked for is too much for some peoples’ comfort. And that’s okay; I get it. I’m very grateful to have a few free days before my new job begins on Monday, particularly because I’m being paid, so we all came out ahead by me leaving before my time was scheduled to be up. A win-win all around.   


The day was anti-climactic. I’ve cried every single time I’ve left a job. If not at my good-bye party, then certainly afterwards by myself or with friends at the after-party. This time – no party, no fanfare, no tears. Maybe I’m growing up. Or maybe there are times when a change occurs that is so obviously a good move that there isn’t any way for sadness to be a part of the shift. I wished them well, they wished me well, and off I went. It was a departure entirely free of drama. 

There are two main lessons that I received in this experience and that I fully realized as I was driving that long, slow drive home for the last time. No matter what kind of business, the products or services that are sold, big or small company, the single defining determinant of success is leadership at the very top. Without it, truly nothing else matters. Nothing. As if CEOs needed any more pressure on them. Sorry CEOs – that’s why you get paid the big bucks.     

I realized the other insight as I crossed over the border to NY, looking out along the skyline sparkling in the cool, unseasonal sunshine. A few hours earlier, there was a storm that seemed almost apocalyptic in nature. The sky was practically black at 11am. My friend, Richard, said it was Heaven’s way of washing away this experience in favor of the new adventure I am about to take. I agree with him. I also think the weather today, its vascillation between storm and sun, was very much a reflection of two pivotal professional experiences I’ve had – one in 2000 and one now, 8 years later. 

The storm: In 2000 I worked for a woman named Charlotte Wilcox, a crusty broad who didn’t let anyone push her around, ever. If she was involved in a show, there was no question who was the top dog. She was hard on herself and hard on her staff, especially me. She taught me how to survive in business – it wasn’t a pleasant experience, in the same way that a root canal isn’t pleasant, but the lessons she taught me about follow-through and work ethic, your own and that of your boss, have been absolutely critical to my success. She told me that the great problem with my generation is that we have no follow-through and that I should never, ever, under any circumstance, work harder than the person signing my paycheck. And if I ever get the opportunity to sign paychecks, I better remember that I need to work harder than anyone I pay. As a result, I am conscious to ask more of myself than I ever ask of anyone else and I follow-through, always. 

The sun: Bob, my most recent boss, taught me a very different lesson. He was what I think of as the anti-Charlotte. I spent a mostly joyful year, a bit more, working for him. I learned and read and reasoned and tried my best to offer insight, advice, and counsel. And 99% of the time I was greeted with gratitude to an embarrassing degree by everyone I came into contact with on a variety of projects. I worked very hard to be valuable and helpful whenever and wherever I could. In short, Bob taught me how to thrive – how to use my very best strengths to make a difference, and for that lesson I am most grateful. 

In the end, I think all of life, and most particularly our professional lives, comes down to those two basic blocks: surviving and thriving. The rest is all decoration.   

career, dreams, friendship, music

Shelby Lynne

Christa Avampato

Nearly all of my new music recommendations come from my friend, Ken. He always knows what’s new and understands my taste in music exactly. A few months ago, he introduced me to Shelby Lynne and I’ve been listening to her recent album that is a tribute to Dusty Springfield. Lynne was on CBS Sunday Morning this morning, and showed a much different personality than her sultry voice lets on. 


She describes herself as a Hell Cat, someone who doesn’t like rules and doesn’t like people who like rules. Now, I like her music even more. She turned away from a big deal music career in Nashville to build her own road on her own terms. When I was a kid, my mom described me as “hell on wheels”. I’m not exactly sure what that means – maybe that I used to raise hell and then run away really fast. It seems that Shelby Lynne and I both have spicy personalities, and neither of us would have it any other way.

As  general rule, I like risk takers who bet on themselves more than they bet on someone else. There’s a certain independence and confidence in those people that I greatly admire. A friend recently told me about her fear that she has no ability to take a risk – twice she has turned down professional moves to companies that eventually went public providing the partners with million of dollars each and the opportunity to do ground-breaking work. Now she’s worried those chances have passed her by. I hope that’s not true and it was a good lesson for me. 

Life waits for no one so if you have something you want to do and something you want to say, it would be wise to do and say it now. There’s no rewind or pause button on the world. And if you need some inspiration or a soundtrack for your journey, I’d recommend that Shelby Lynne album.