Process reminds me of innovation. Thrown around, it begins to loose its meaning. Process-driven. “I love the process.”

Often, when asked what part of design—or writing—I like best, I’ll respond that way. The process! He gushed the answer. But what is that? Huh? I’m still not sure.

These pages are my personal projects. The ones I update consistently. Yet rarely share.

One, two, three, four. And the most absurdly sized Moleskine I could find. Starting in January, I began filling them all up, trying to understand everything from where I was to why I do what I do. What a process. Endless process.

Maybe it’s here:

This is important to designers, because without process, one can’t understand. Process makes certain that nothing is random. Choices are made deliberately. When something is poorly designed, look to its creator’s process; when something is beautiful, do the same. When you notice something unthoughtful, blame a lack of development, of process, and when you don’t notice anything at all, take note of that absence, the seamlessness is the importance.

Too often, we look at something and we see the iceberg’s tip. We see an end result. We don’t realize the dedication and stress, the thoughtfulness, the work that makes up the giant mass floating beneath the surface. I think we all must be reminded of the importance of process every now and again; creative people can sometimes be the worst betrayers of the journey because they know firsthand how grueling a trip it can be, and how it would be so easy if one could just get there.

Perhaps I simply want an excuse to share my notebooks, beautifully, on the internet. The sketchbook is the unsung hero. It’s contents are not always pretty. It supports the final product without ever asking for credit. I am waxing poetic.

What I want to tell you is that the exploring is important. We all like to surprise ourselves once in a while. I’d like to give them—my notebooks and the thinking—a moment. To live amongst all the “done.” Because they’re really the only reason the done happened. I think. I’ll keep thinking. You do the same, ok?