As a graphic recorder or facilitator, how do you “Listen for Diversity”? Many of us are working in specialized fields and it’s not one size fits all. Now for the first time, you can read expert advice from over 20 visual practitioners – in an easy to read Slideshare.
It’s about starting a conversation, not about finding one answer. As visual practice expands, it’s an exciting time for us to share techniques that work for practitioners, clients, and communities. Enjoy!
I wanted the workshop to include as many voices as possible – including people who aren’t able to make this year’s conference, and to amplify what’s working well for practitioners. So before the workshop, I reached out to the graphic recording community for insights.
Diversity comes in infinite forms — race, gender, cultures, age, and abilities to just name a few. Through their insights and experience, these graphic facilitators show that it’s vitally important that our work be responsive to the people with whom we’re collaborating, and that we all take time to reflect on the choices we make.
With thanks to the folks who took the time to share their thoughts and tips!
I’m hosting a session called Listening for Diversity at the 2017 International Forum of Visual Practitioners conference this June. I’m excited to hear from as many graphic recorders and graphic facilitators as possible about this topic – so if you are not headed to IFVP 2017 I also want to hear your tips.
You’re invited to participate in three ways:
Spend 5 – 10 minutes on this survey (click the link)
Be interviewed in a short video (1-2 minutes – click the link to sign up)
Participate in a 10-12 person fishbowl discussion about diversity during the workshop, or NOMINATE someone (click the link to sign up)
I’ll compile everyone’s contributions and share them back to the field afterwards. You’ll get to hear what other practitioners are doing, and what is the learning edge for what is coming next. Answers will be edited for length.
Not ready to click to the survey yet? need to know more?
Picture an iceberg – what we draw is only what’s on the surface. We can support diversity in our drawings, and there’s also an opportunity to go even deeper.
I’m curious about questions/ideas such as:
– “When I find myself in an unfamiliar context, I get ready and find resources to help me by…”
– “I didn’t know how to draw xyz, and I learned that drawing xyz this way is important because …”
– “The power of the pen is also about what is unsaid – and I listen for … ”
– “I am a member of this ______ group, and I wish other practitioners would draw ME as ….”
– “I mentor someone with lived experience to co-graphic record with me in specific communities. Has anyone else done this, and what did you notice?”
What’s the first thing that comes to mind? Will it help someone else? Share it here:
Sophia Liang from Graphic Footprints and I are also teaching a pre-conference class called “Towards Mastery” at this year’s IFVP conference, for participants with at least 3+ years experience. Spots are filling up and you can sign up here: http://2017.ifvp.org/agenda/. See you there!
I was recently asked a great question by !Kona: “When you think of all the conversations where you are present as a graphic recording witness, do you have any current large scale thoughts about human nature, communication, or wants and desires?” As graphic recorders and graphic facilitators, we’re privileged to work in fascinating sessions, but it’s often behind closed doors.
So, I asked a dozen of my visual practitioner colleagues for their insights:
What did you notice about human nature or communication in 2016?
We agree that we’re headed into a VUCA world – characterized by Volatility, Uncertainty, Complexity, and Ambiguity. Responses to VUCA can include authenticity, anxiety and change, clarity, and being good to each other. Here’s 12 insights into what we noticed.
Credit: Innah Wulandari, Flickr
“I recently worked with a struggling board intent on setting new cultural norms to be more effective. Several members were new, and the board chair was hoping to build a more “leader full” organization, in preparation for succession. One thing was clear:
this group needed to have honest conversations.
Through a couple of walking talks in alternating groups of three, members were asked to discuss “What expectations do team members have of each other – what is important?” and then “What do you think we should be able to count on from one another?” We walked in one direction with the first question and walked back with the second. We debriefed both conversations in our session space with members highlighting themes and epiphanies. Success for this team came back to being seen, to building trust, and to naming and committing to certain actions and expectations – raising the standard, so to speak. They were empowered by these authentic conversations with each other, and now each feel seen and heard in a new way.”
VUCA as a FRAMEWORK to UNDERSTAND ANXIETY and CHANGE
“Clearly the patterns are out in the wider world. In your invitation to answer, you hit on the two biggest themes in my work this year:
1. There is no doubt now we are in a VUCA world.
2. We strive to feel we have a voice and we seek connection and understanding.
I have heard the term VUCA come up explicitly as a framework to understand the anxiety and change we’re all navigating. In other events, volatility, uncertainty, complexity and ambiguity were certainly described, if not named. When the concept of VUCA is shared, I sense the relief in the room of “Oh, I’m not alone in feeling anxious.”
While a VUCA world may feel abstract and insurmountable and abstract, participants are describing the antidote: having a voice, listening and connecting with each other. The individual, human scale of life and how we use our own voice, empower others to find and use their voice and listen to each other.”
“Themes I’ve noticed around communication are (1) the need to understand people on a deeper level… to identify our needs/talents/perspectives and how it all interconnects into the bigger picture; and (2) that this understanding needs to be genuine. These are themes I heard echoed across the board at meetings – from rural community planning to large tech conferences.
Being able to better understand each other means communicating clearly and precisely. Corporate and government “speak” is being trimmed away for real conversations. Where it was once considered professional to use formal corporate language or meeting design, there’s a realization that such language and approaches only serves the small few who work with it. It’s no less professional or serious to communicate in a way that is clear, precise, and most of all, engaging.
Visual communication is gradually replacing text-based communication because it’s more effective at clearly and precisely communicating an idea and connecting with the viewer on a genuine level. We’re seeing it in everything from emoticons in texting, to organizations placing greater value on infographics, graphic recording, animations, etc. Visuals explain ideas more quickly, and most importantly, the emotion behind the idea. It’s a human way of communicating.
Meetings are also evolving — there’s a recognition that integrating new ways of hosting a meeting, such as integrating play, humour, and the environment of the meeting (windows! fresh air!), are all incredibly valuable to initiating deeper conversations and connections. These things are often seen as “fluff” and “childish” but, similar to the shift to using visuals and less corporate speak, this is how we can understand and connect to one another on a deeper level. The “soft stuff” is the real catalyst for change.”
“Like Anthony, I’ve also noticed a focus on “how do we prepare for a future we can’t predict?” in the conversations I’ve graphically recorded this year. We never could predict the future, but it’s become almost impossible to predict what will happen next week, let alone in two, or ten years. A VUCA world indeed, filled with disruptive forces – technological, political, social – that change the game at every turn. While I hear a lot of anxiety about the first half of VUCA (Volatility and Uncertainty), there is less understanding of how to deal with the second half – Complexity and Ambiguity – because we tend to focus on “solving problems” rather than address messy systems. We need to spend more time on C and A, in order to navigate the V and U.
For instance, I have been thinking a lot about the need for clarity in our complex, ambiguous, and often highly abstract world. We’ve all been in meetings where people talk enthusiastically about things like leadership, sustainability, accountability, innovation, engagement, and so on. But what do they mean? My idea of leadership might be radically different from yours; while a government official’s idea of engagement might be at odds with that of a disability activist.
We operate daily, at a level of abstraction that goes unquestioned, because we don’t see how subjective these terms are, and how open they are to different interpretations.
This lack of clarity leads to confusion and makes us ineffective. If we don’t have a shared understanding of sustainability, for example, how will we ever get there? At a more sinister level, lack of clarity can be downright dangerous. The American public just elected a president who ran on the biggest abstraction of all: “Make America Great Again” – a phrase that probably means something different to different people. What happens when someone who translates it as “Make America White Again” comes into contact with someone who envisions a “great” America as welcoming diversity and inclusion? We’re already seeing the fallout from that.
So I’m making it my mission as a graphic facilitator to put myself in service of clarity. I will be pushing people, at meetings I work in, to go beyond their abstractions. I will ask questions like: What does that concept look like on the ground? How does it play out in action? How would you describe it to someone outside this room? In this small way, we can help bring fuzzy thinking into clearer focus, thereby helping those with good intentions to be more effective in their actions – and reducing the power of those with questionable intentions by exposing them for what they are.”
“In 2016 I’ve been drawing mostly in three different environments – with people with disabilities on how leadership works for them in their lives, groups and communities, teaching in Douglas College’s Disability and Community Studies faculty, and supporting non-profits in organizational development. Much of this has been with my colleague, Liz Etmanski.
The “big thought” that seems to connect these events is the clarity of invitation that we support.
Someone is saying: I want you to be here, I want to know what you think, I want to know what matters to you, and so do we all. Really.
Drawing people’s conversations “speaks” this as an action (it’s too easy to just say it, and people have heard it to death). With Liz as a co-graphic facilitator, it’s as if those groups and spaces have been waiting for someone like her to enter those rooms: I do want you to be here, I do want to know what you think, I do want to know what matters to you… and so do we all. Often she is the only person with a disability in the room, playing a facilitative role they have not witnessed a person with a disability playing before. I try to explain what I’m thinking about this to Liz and she listens as carefully as she always does and says, “Well, we already knew that.” “What did we know?” “That.” She goes back to drawing. One day I will know what she means. Then, later that day as we draw someone comes up, obviously surprised at her presence, and asks, “Do you have Down Syndrome?” I tense up, defensive on her behalf, but she just leans in and gently says, “A lot of people say that to me, but I prefer the term ‘artist.’” She beams. They beam. We continue on course, drawing, coming together to fill each other with light. That’s what she means.”
It seems to me that virtually every dialogue leads back to some very basic human needs/wants. Human nature doesn’t change so much as the context within which we live does. It’s said that we live in a VUCA world, a “post truth era”, a time when communication is instant, constant, and social. The internet serves as a representation of, or a window into our collective intelligence/consciousness. It’s now easy to witness on the web how the context within which we live is changing our beliefs and behaviors. For example, an academic in my meeting last week cited a recent study of young adults, the majority of which responded that democracy is “not that important to my life.”
Last week, I also mapped a dialogue with 7 street people who talked about how they had benefited from certain programs. This was perhaps the most beautiful conversation I’ve ever mapped because the truths they surfaced are so simple.
Human nature leads us back to the same desires. We all:
Need a sense of safety
Need a sense of belonging, hope and connection
Want to have dignity and be treated with respect
Want to feel special, valued, unique
Want to have a voice
Depend on each other for love, kindness and compassion
Regardless of where the world is now, or where it goes, regardless of whether you express it on the internet, in Arabic, or in braille, we all possess one great power – that’s the ability to be good to each other in recognition of our interconnectedness.
When I think of the work and the conversations I’ve been a part of this year, many have focused on future thinking and forecasting. Part of thinking about the future is “looking back to look forward.” How does history inform our view of the future? Are we attentive listeners to the past? Are we willing to learn from history in order to shape more humane and collaborative futures? What do artifacts and relics tell us about the futures we might shape?
I took this photo of a rusted-out, abandoned pay phone when I was in the rural Midwest in August 2016. I wasn’t particularly nostalgic for pay phones. However, the image did make me think about technology and the notion of “progress.” We shape technology, but our technologies also shape us.
In an “always on, always connected” world where we are ostensibly never lost, never offline, and never lacking in tools that enable us to connect anytime anywhere, what have we forgotten about a time when a roadside pay phone was our only portal to connectivity? What do we miss?
I miss the intentionality of finding a pay phone to make a call, of asking myself “who do I NEED to call right now?” I miss the preparedness that comes with remembering actual phone numbers and carrying enough change. I miss the resourcefulness we needed when our options weren’t as plentiful and when we were required to rely on amenities in physical space.
It’s easy to celebrate technology as a godsend. It’s easy to remember times as the “bad old days” when we didn’t have modern technologies. I’m more interested in remembering how we managed without such wondrous and advanced technologies. Nostalgia is useful when we are humble about “progress” and realize that limitations often forced us to make thoughtful choices.
If you had a pocketful of change and one pay phone in the middle of nowhere, who would you call? That’s when you become keenly aware of who and what is important.
– Anthony Weeks, firstname.lastname@example.org
image by Kelvy Bird
“We have a longing to belong and know our place in the seeming order of things. Whether to exist in the context of family or tribe, find meaning in our work, or be at one in the natural world – our species seem at a loss when upended, uprooted. Survival instinct kicks in as the reactionary limbic system comes online, and thoughtful exchange seems harder to access, even though connection is one of the most basic human instincts. We open and close, like morning glories on a vine, with light and dark.
Our challenge now, in these unsteady times, is to find new muscles of resiliency to greet others, ourselves, and the planet with the kind of welcome embrace we, ourselves, would want.
“I’ve been stewing today on a comment Tom Friedman made during an interview about his new book, Thank You For Being Late, that relates to your observation.
He said because of the increasing isolation that’s ironically created by everyone being digitally connected and the pace of acceleration, there will be a growth of jobs in the future that are all about creating community and togetherness. He gave the example of paint by numbers parties for groups that are happening (is this just in San Francisco?) where people get together and drink wine and paint a preprinted canvas. A little bit silly, but the point was that people are hungry and will become more hungry for opportunities to be together and in community face to face.
I certainly feel this hunger with the groups I work with – the hunger to anchor to one conversation, to be together, to be allowed to connect. As things speed up, people need to slow down and be given space and permission to do that.”
“I hear and see uncertainty and also a collective longing for certainty, even if it’s simply a collective agreement that there is none. I see deep organizational inquiry, with a focus on individuals and relationships, and on the psychology of belonging, the value of culture, and the importance of building, nurturing and sustaining the systems that enable people to work with and for one another on a day-to-day basis. There’s also an awareness of the tenuousness of our lives, and that the ground beneath our feet might give way at any moment. People are looking around, and in most instances, really seeing (or at least trying to) the people in their organizations and their communities as extensions of themselves. There is a shadow here. The opposite is happening as well – and this tension is visible on a national scale in countries all over the world.
There has been more emphasis on the value of Trust this year than in the past. How do we gain it, hold it, and sustain it? Responsibility has also come up – responsibility to and for each other, our communities, our organizations – as well as, the critical need for increased experimentation. These things all feel deeply interwoven.
I continue to see a shift in the way people understand both themselves and their teams/organizations – increasingly thinking in terms of elastic and dynamic ecosystems. On the shadow side, I see people grasping at old structures and supports, out of misplaced hope and/or desperation. Some still believe that the boat we rode in on will weather the storm.”
“What I noticed about communication and human nature is…
1. People meet more and more to talk with each other, not at each other. They appreciate seeing what emerges from the whole and the potential for others to do good.
2. People ask for help to make concepts simple enough to understand and help others notice where to start taking action.
3. People are being told to innovate, and the people doing the telling often resist using their own power to change the structures and systems that hold the current ways in place.
4. People need freedom to express themselves, be seen, and contribute. They acknowledge that others do, too, and they are motivated by anger, injustice, and exclusion to to change things so others feel a sense of belonging to community and are empowered to contribute.
5. People also feel afraid to look at or change their own behaviour, beliefs, assumptions, and language to bring about the changes they seek for society. See #3 above.
Essentially, what I noticed is people value freedom, community, and contribution for themselves and others. They are getting smarter at seeing, understanding, and communicating big picture context and concepts and where work needs to be done. Where they need a little help is in the everyday acts of human nature, embracing the courage and will to bring about the changes they seek.
If I stop noticing here, I may reinforce the very thing I’m pointing at, perhaps with a little judgment thrown in, too. If what I am noticing in meetings reflects a global request for others to change, then it is also an invitation to witness my Self and lead with heart from here.”
Over the past few months, I’ve noticed that whether it is an international meeting, a government meeting, or a grassroots gathering, people are looking for three things: community, increased capacity, and better communication. As a graphic recorder and facilitator, I try to tune my listening into those things. And recently I’ve noticed that there is a deeper, spiritual level: it is also about belonging, and our connection or disconnection to the land.
Understanding the values belonging and the land can help us make decisions, and inform how we treat each other. When I get stuck, or need guidance, I can ask myself: is this a step towards more belonging? Is this a step towards healing the land?
Land and belonging shows up everywhere. The One Health model in international public health makes these connections and conflicts clear – humans, animals and the environment are interdependent. Land and belonging were also key themes at an Indigenous youth life promotion (suicide prevention) international gathering. Youth named that their healing came from being reconnected to culture, and being with elders out on the land learning traditional ways. At a session in a big city, social service agencies were struggling to support isolated, frail seniors who have worse health outcomes. We can treat it as a health problem – or a community problem: how do soaring housing costs impact lower income seniors to move out, or to not feel welcome in their own, changing neighbourhoods? And belonging and land collide where I live on the unceded Indigneous territories of the Musqueam, Squamish and Tsleil-Waututh: What types of resource extraction projects can happen here underneath the unceded city and who decides? Who are your leaders and whose voices do you privilege? On whose land are you working?
The work that I do helps me see how all our issues are deeply connected. What will help is when we strive towards belonging, and also healing – ourselves and the land.
“I agree wholeheartedly with Lisa’s points, particularly on people wanting to feel respected and heard. What I’ve noticed across meetings is that often people talk around these core human values, without explicitly saying “Let’s treat each other with more respect. How can we do that…?”. Or they overcomplicate things by talking about how processes, policies, or technology could improve the situation.
I’ll share a story that I heard last week.
It was an all-day meeting with a group of government bureaucrats. The theme of the day was how new technologies, particularly, big data was essential to adapting to the future. The presenter was an external expert; young, tech-saavy, hipster-type. He described a problem an insurance company was having with customer complaints. Their claims costs were skyrocketing because of a steady increase of claimants lawyering up, thus increasing the cost of the claims. They wanted to know what was going on, why were claimants lawyering up? Under what circumstances were they not? So they took a huge data set of phone recordings and analyzed them with an algorithm to identify the factors that caused claimants to lawyer up. The conclusion: service agents who treated claimants on the first phone call nicely, with respect, and shared concern for their situation tended NOT to lawyer up.
At this point, my take-home thought was, “Wow, this is a great conclusion, but kind of a no brainer”. The presenter’s take-home message was “This is the power of big data! Big data can help us understand what kind of employee we should be hiring to speak to claimants”.
So sometimes I see people overcomplicate things. They overthink things with their head, and overlook the importance of thinking with your heart – which is really what makes the difference between technology and humans. Robotics and AI and big data can all do things faster, better, bigger than us, but if it’s to improve human happiness/success/satisfaction, considerations of the heart are vital.”
Imagine your ideas drawn — incorporating energy, colour, space, line, scale, icons, figures, metaphors. This is the territory of visual practice, which makes the fleeting and ephemeral nature of spoken conversation concrete.
Visual practitioners make marks that allow people to see their thinking through new lenses. They help people speak up and listen, think critically, find themes, chart relationships, reach understanding, and take action.
Drawn Together through Visual Practice demonstrates the power of visuals as a primary sensemaking device in an age of unprecedented complexity. With this book, we embrace visual thinking, practice and facilitation as a defining technology of our time.
This anthology connects ideas and practitioners at a moment when our practice is dramatically expanding. Whether we are visual veterans, bold beginners, or curious companions to the field of visual practice, we will all come together to:
Deepen our knowledge by exploring rich and diverse perspectives from 27 cross-disciplinary practitioners on 4 continents
Delve into deep and resonant questions at the core of connection and communication that prompt us to pause awhile and reflect on our practice
Show up as a trusted and capable partner and work to our true potential
Playfully dive into experiments with improvisation, dancineering, kinesthetic modeling, and other valuable processes and delight in the surprising results that will improve our skills and impact
Discover refreshing possibilities to make our mark in this growing field and be inspired to help solve the complex puzzles of our time
Leaders in facilitation, conflict mediation, education – and all other areas using visual processes to establish common ground – will find an unparalleled wisdom of experience in these pages.
Visual practitioners make marks that allow people to see their thinking through new lenses. They help people speak up and listen, think critically, find themes, chart relationships, reach understanding, and take action.
Excited? So are we! Here is the Table of Contents:
People care when they see their ideas matter. And that’s why I love my job. Here’s my talk from Creative Mornings Vancouver. A big-hearted community creates this interesting, free breakfast event each month in 120+ cities around the globe.
I gave a keynote on “The Visual Language” and graphic facilitation. For me, it’s about “process versus product” in my work, and the collaboration that graphic facilitation fosters with groups and organizations. See the full keynote thanks to Creative Mornings: Vancouver.
You can read a little interview about me – and why I think it takes a lifetime to make the art you are capable of making- on the Creative Mornings/Vancouver site here.
A huge thank you to Wacom for sending 10 new Bamboo Sparks as gifts for the audience! I used it to make for the fun image you see in the first photo. I always need to scribble/ doodle/ make lists/ write things down – and I’m loving the handwriting to text on regular paper.
There was a great Q & A that followed my talk. The questions gave me the opportunity to speak a little bit more about my process. Many of the questions folks asked are really key right now in our graphic facilitation field. In a future post I’ll answer them more fully.
Thanks again to the whole community who puts on Creative Mornings, and see you there soon! It’s really a unique and positive space to shape your creative ideas.
Graphic recording supported a new community-based research project in Surrey BC about refugee settlement and integration needs, called Our Community, Our Voice. The project is part of the City of Surrey’s Local Immigration Partnership initiative and is and funded by Citizenship & Immigration Canada.
It was an eye- (and heart-) opening day. I heard more refugees settle in Surrey than anywhere else in BC. That Surrey schools are adjusting to support young people who come directly from refugee camps. That in our strained rental market in the Lower Mainland, it’s even harder to find housing for a large family. But this isn’t to say it’s all about the challenges: there’s an incredible resilience in refugee communities. Here’s part of the graphic recording from the day: you can see how health, education, employment, social services are interconnected. Addressing one set of issues requires an integrated approach, with a specific focus on refugees who have different needs than newcomers who arrive under different circumstances.
Visual facilitation is always a great choice to support cross-cultural communication, problem-solving and dialogue. This event used two visual activities: graphic recording and a custom, 15-foot interactive timeline activity about the refugee settlement process.
The research team at SFU Surrey and I also developed a giant timeline using a water metaphor about the refugee settlement process, from pre-arrival and into a 5-year journey. We thought water could be a metaphor for talking about rocky seas, calm experiences, turbulent waves, and what was a life-preserver. Participants worked in groups to identify key milestones, and added them with post-it notes. I created a final copy by redrawing their notes, right there in the moment.
I’m always excited to support community-based research projects – this means truly researching with communities, and not just about them. It takes more time, but it’s more ethical.
“A key highlight of the day was the introduction of 11 community peer research assistants (RAs) hired for the project, many of whom are recent refugees from Africa, South America and South East Asia. The RAs will ensure the development and implementation of the OCOV project is grounded to the knowledge and expertise that can only comes from having been there.”
More event photos from the Local Immigration Partnership initiative are here, and follow along with this project’s progress.
I love organizing information, and maps are one way to visualize neighbourhood assets.
This time I photographed my process before it hit the recycling bin.
For this project, the final image was going to fit on an 8.5 x 11 inch page, so I got out paper that’s about 1.5 times as big. Working from an Elections BC map, I sketched the map as a rectangle and put in the boundaries. I had a list of icons that were going to fit on the map – community centres, the library, other resources – and I wanted to see where they spread out.
Drawing it in a big square helped me see where things were placed in the neighborhood, but it was a bit boring.
Next, I redrew the map slanting with a perspective towards the water. It’s more interesting and the buildings were going to give it height.
The next draft I thought I’d add people or symbols for each building: books at the library, recreation at the community centre … and dropped that idea once I realized I couldn’t encompass the diversity of activities. That would have to wait for a different type of mapping project – social mapping or community mapping, and not just a location-based map.
Getting closer …. There were a few edits made at this stage: moving the Vancouver East Cultural Centre to the correct side of Hastings (oops) and adding the high schools.
Next up: a cleaner copy to show the Vancouver-Hastings Office.
The last step was to get up early, make coffee, clean all my tools, and carefully paint it in watercolour and ink a little bigger than the final image size. Then I taped it down, photographed the watercolour outside on a cloudy day, and brought it into Adobe CS6 for the final work. You can see this painting is a little more brown than the final version, which was given more pops of red and yellow.
And here’s the final image again:
There’s richness in maps as a community-building tool. They’re a powerful way to find out about communities. It’s often called community-based asset mapping and here are some quick resources on that topic:
This video shows Rhizome Cafe is more than a place to eat, it’s a place to come home to.
To celebrate its 6th anniversary, owners Lisa and Vinetta harvested Rhizome stories. Over a 3 week period, over 50 people wrote “What does Rhizome mean to you?” or “What is your favorite Rhizome memory?” on slips of paper and put them in a sealed box. On the Day of the Dead, Lisa and I opened the box and I had 3 hours to draw the memories.
Lisa asked our friend Carlo to transform the image into a special video multimedia presentation.
Behind the scenes:
Lisa and I opened the sealed box November 1st at the Day of the Dead celebration. There were over 50 submissions, $4.35 in change, and two pens. (The pens were from a foiled attempt to try and peek by fishing out an answer ahead of time.) The slips of paper were tiny windows into peoples’ lives at Rhizome. “I met my lover here.” “The Jack O’Dell book launch – the room was overflowing.” “The pop bottle orchestra performance – I laughed until my face hurt.” “No one is turned away hungry.”
For a few minutes I sorted them into some vague groupings, then I put up my giant piece of paper (6 feet by 3 feet) and started drawing. I had only 3 hours. My challenge was to include something from almost every submission.
My pen knew where it wanted to go. Drawing during the Day of the Dead event was special. I drew Rhizome memories while people gathered to share family memories, culture, and food. I think the cafe full of people laughing and talking influenced this image to emerge with bright colours, bolder statements, and the strong lines from the roots going down and growing up. My drawing style changes depending on what I’m listening to. It could be CBC if I’m home or if I’m working at an event, I’m focussed on the speakers and the room’s energy.
This picture is a moment in time. I’m using skills from my graphic recording/graphic facilitation practice to create this image. It’s not a polished, perfect illustration. It’s a visual tool for a group or community, made in the moment. It’s a way to look and see, What is important to us, today? Where have we come from? Where are we going? And then there’s a visual for the group’s history and archive.
The very next morning, our talented friend, organizer and designer Carlo Sayo created the digital presentation with Prezi, selecting Leela Gilday’s music for accompaniment and we revealed the result at the anniversary party. I hadn’t seen the presentation before, so it was a surprise to me too. What was beautiful was that Carlo told the story in a different order than what I had drawn. It meant I could experience Rhizome in a new way, with fresh eyes.