Get paid for playing

Mar 29, 2023

There is this quote from drummer Keith Moon I heard from Ira Glass and deeply resonated with me:

I am the best Keith Moon-style drummer in the world.

It reminded me of my approach to work for my first few years of employment at Nearsoft, a company that heavily promoted self-management. I divided my work into two categories: tasks I had to do and tasks I wanted to do. Although both types of work were part of my daily routine, I prioritized completing the "had-to" tasks quickly to ensure I had more time for the "want-to" tasks.

At the time it felt as if I was taking advantage of the company by being paid to work a little and play a lot. But, I eventually (and slowly, to be honest) realized that the "want-to" tasks were my most valuable contributions. By pursuing work that aligned with my interests and the company's objectives, I discovered the intersection of our mutual goals. It was still work, but it was refined by my experience and understanding of my role and the company's business.

This realization has become a guiding principle in my work ethic. Once you comprehend and internalize the company's business, your role, and the value of your skillset, the work you genuinely want to do becomes the most valuable contribution you can make to the organization. You effectively become the best "you-style" worker in the world, as there is no one else who can offer exactly what you bring to the table.

I'm not suggesting that you stop doing tasks that don't interest you, that would be terrible advice. But once you adopt this mentality, you'll find that the "want-to" bucket overflows while the "had-to" bucket remains mostly empty, because as you start doing things your way, and feel more and more confident in that, most things become genuinely enjoyable. As a result, you'll be happier, more fulfilled, and contribute a lot more to your company's success.

Lockdown check-in

Apr 26, 2020

After six and a half weeks in lockdown, I’m not anxious anymore. I don’t crave going out, and video calls have replaced face-to-face meetings very well: they no longer feel fake. I don’t perceive the screen anymore, but the person on the other side.

Habits are changing. I can’t go out to the supermarket when I’m bored (yes, I do that, or used to, anyways) or call a friend to meet at the neighborhood bar, but I took on Animal Crossing New Horizons, and as a distraction it’s a lifesaver. I’m making more music, I’m drawing more, and I play with my kids a lot more than before the pandemic.

I’m lucky enough to still have a job, with a couple sacrifices, and my work-at-home setup is better than ever. I feel I could do without an office for a while.

I really miss my parents, though. I miss my mom’s visits or being able to travel there for a weekend.

How’s the world going to be after the lockdown? Will we hug each other? Will it be weird to be physically close to other people? Will the menace of a new pandemic be with us all the time? Will we all become preppers and hoard non-perishables, Lysol and beer?

I’m not going anywhere with all this. I just wanted to type some words and try to restart the habit of writing. This seems like a good moment to do it.

Stay safe.

The solar system dimensions and my ignorance

May 14, 2018

When we moved into the house where my family and I live, it occurred to me that it would be super cool and educational to have a solar system model in the ceiling of my kid’s room.

And it would be a lot cooler —I thought— if the distances between the planets’ orbits and their size were proportional to their real-life counterparts, the light bulb in the center of the ceiling being the sun. I got really excited.

With all the excitement still in me, I got in front of my computer to calculate said distances. That’s when it hit me: I knew nothing about the solar system size.

If a common light bulb is 6 centimeters wide, and I made all the sizes and distances proportional, Neptune would have to be located at 193 meters from the bulb.

My kid’s room is not that big.

Also, the moon would have to be .14 milimeters in diameter.

Then I got angry at all the illustrations of the solar system I’ve seen in my entire life. They are so misleading! Why couldn’t they just depict the orbits and planets in a proportional way? Thinking a little bit harder, I realized it is simply impossible to do it in print, or in any practical media for that matter. Here’s a proportional depiction of the solar system in a webpage by Josh Worth.

So, at the end I don’t know if the basic education system failed me, or my common sense did.

I decided to go with glowing stars in the ceiling.

Free sticker PSD mockup

Oct 08, 2017

I constantly find myself looking for free PSD mockups to present work, usually for small things like stickers, mugs, or posters. Today I couldn’t find a decent one for a set of stickers, and instead of buying a premium one, I decided to scratch my own itch, make my own and share it with you.

How to use it

Usage is fairly easy:

1. Open the file in Photoshop
2. Double click the smart object icon on the topmost layer
3. Paste the artwork of your sticker in the file that just opened
4. Save the file with your artwork and go back to the mockup image
5. …
6. Profit!

The mockup automagically adds padding to your artwork, so there’s no need to worry about that. Just copy and paste as it is.

You can use it for whatever you want, no strings attached. If you like it, recommend it to your friends. For any comments, here's a handy contact form :).

In awe of modern inventions

Jun 27, 2017

Before photography was invented, people could only see that in front of their eyes. To experience the rest of the world, people had to physically travel, or, if they couldn’t afford it, to use other’s interpretation of remote places via narrative or painting.

That’s why the invention of photography was so huge for the human race. It removed a limit that most people didn’t even thought was there, and it opened the possibility of exploring the physical world beyond our reach.

Today we don’t believe anymore that everything important was already invented, but we have an attitude of cynicism to every new thing that comes along. In 2017 we even have cars that drive themselves, and we aren’t excited at all.

These are two (now) very basic inventions that occurred during my lifetime and changed me forever.

The Internet

One of the first things that blew my mind when I first experienced the internet back in the 1990s wasn’t the web, or email, but the possibility of connecting with random people all around the world.

I remember chatting with people from Argentina, Colombia, Paraguay, Philippines, Malaysia, Spain. At the time I hadn’t traveled more than 500km from my hometown, so these conversations always left me in awe, even when they usually went on superficial subjects from “how’s your house/street/city” to “what kind of music do you listen to?”.

Google Earth

The first time I used Google Earth, I felt a mix of excitement with something very similar to fear. It was awe again. I moused all around the sphere on my screen, watching aerial views of famous locations, then known cities, then my house, my relatives houses, my school. In every single step I took, I expected the experience to fail, but every single time, the experience delivered.

When photos were invented, we still needed somebody going places and taking pictures. With the internet chatrooms, we could only talk to people logged in to the same chat room we were in, but with Google Earth, everything was there. Not the necessary stuff, not the important stuff, everything.

Months after that, Google started adding maps, street photos and directions on top of Google Earth. This kind of stuff made the tool practical for everyday use. But at first, Google Earth simply removed a limit we didn’t knew we had. And that was, again, awesome.

Qué linda es la lluvia

Jul 02, 2013

El aroma a tierra mojada me hace volver a mil novecientos ochenta y seis, cuando a mi hermano y a mí ese olor nos anunciaba una tarde divertidísima saltando entre los charcos de las calles sin pavimento y la posibilidad de quedarnos en casa la siguiente mañana si la escuela se inundaba.

Me recuerda aquel huracán dominical que amenazaba nuestra casita, cuando mamá nos llevó a refugiarnos en la casa de la vecina con todo y la tele Philips blanco y negro de doce pulgadas. Me recuerda su cara de angustia y luego su sonrisa de alivio cuando, horas después, el radio de baterías anunció que el huracán se desviaba.

Me recuerda el beber café con leche y tortillas de harina envuelto en una toalla. Dentro de unos años, probablemente me recuerde la noche de hoy, cuando me senté en el porche con Andrés, mi hijo, a ver llover. Me recordará su voz emocionada y espontánea cuando corrimos a la tienda a comprar galletas mientras el agua helada nos caía en la cara:

—Papá, qué linda es la lluvia. —Si hijo, es muy linda.