One friend left his revered management position to spend more time with his infant daughter and wife, another to pursue a newly penned list of adventures and the last to spend more time with her boat (the Thick-of-it style euphemism my employers used to describe her departure). In all three cases, they are much happier for having made the decision to work on their terms, or for the time being, not at all.

To me it’s sad that all three chose to depart the working world on account of the actions (or inactions) of their respective management. In my relatively brief period of professional life I have found that companies are most successful when employers and employees work for mutual benefit, and above all they are open and honest with one another. There’s really not much more to it than that.

I board the train to London with 30 seconds to spare, thus unable to pick up a copy of Private Eye (a habitual pleasure). Instead I launch iBooks on my phone, and find that my copy of ‘Steve Jobs’ is open at the same page I had reached on my iPad the previous evening. Computers aren’t supposed to be helpful like this!

I always have time to be delighted in this world.

After a prolonged period of telling myself I didn’t really need one (denial, the first stage of gadget lust) I finally succumbed and bought an iPad. I’m not sure I would go as far as to say that it is a magical device, but let’s just say that I have been pleasantly surprised by what I’ve been using it for, and how little use my Mac has seen over the past week.

The iPad, as with the ‘pod and ‘phone before it is in essence a beautifully minimalist container for digital content. With the iPod this was always very clear cut: one thousand songs in your pocket, without the need to buy more voluminous trousers. The iPhone and later iPad are slightly more ambitious in their appeal, but I might boil it down thusly: the power and versatility of a computer in the palm of your hand. And I have to say that in day to day usage it rings true for the most part. Since the iPad arrived, my overly powerful desktop has been relegated to the function of syncing my music and apps. That is not to say that it is redundant just yet, as there are some things a tablet can’t manage. However, I can’t think of many situations in which I will need it other than replicating some of the design wizardry I practice in my day job.

With the advent of the ‘Newstand’ feature, the iPad is being billed as the saviour of magazine and newspaper sales. Sales that have been consistently declining year on year. I do love the newsstand feature, and specifically the redesigned Guardian app: software which I think rightly can be thought of as the iPad’s ‘killer app’. I speak as someone who still buys the occasional newspaper, enjoying the feeling of being surrounded by newsprint on a Sunday morning. Copies of the Guardian are downloaded each morning before I awake, and are then ready for me when I need something to accompany my breakfast. Crucially the layout has been designed specifically for the iPad, rather than just reproducing the print edition. It works well, and I am very tempted to subscribe for the very reasonable sum of £10 per month when my trial expires in January.

It didn’t occur to me when I bought the iPad, but it works very well as a portable, interactive television. Not only is there a BBC iPlayer app, there are also apps for 4OD (Channel 4), ITVPlayer and Demand 5 (Home and Away and such like, by which I mean Neighbours). When you throw in the TVCatchUp service, which not as the name suggests enables users to watch live TV, there is very little else that you need for a complete televisual experience. The new-fangled Zeebox (enthusiastically embraced by Stephen Fry no less) completes the social TV experience by combining an interactive TV guide with the torrent of tweets provided by Twitter. Programme makers have keenly exploited the social network as an interactive element, given the stagnant nature of tv technology. Hence why hash tags have become a more common sight in programme intros.

eBooks are big business now that Amazon has reinvented itself as a digital content store, with Kindles to be seen proliferating in commuter’s hands where once tatty paperbacks stood. The Kindle’s eInk screen is great for reading, given that it requires no backlight; the iPad’s LCD less so. I have been reading the Steve Jobs biography on the iPad: the user interaction is delightful in contrast to the slow and flickery screen of it’s rivals. However, turning the backlight down is somewhat necessary for prolonged periods of reading to reduce eye strain. As with everything in life, there is a compromise that has to be struck. The reading experience isn’t as comfortable as the Kindle, but the versatility and polish of the software more than make up for it. In my opinion at least. It’s worth noting that as with the Kindle, vast swathes of literature that are in the public domain are free to download. Ever pondered reading Wuthering Heights but didn’t quite get around to it? Now it is but a click away.

Part of the allure of the tablet was its capability as a means to digitally draw and paint, something that I do on a daily basis at my desk. Whereas there are some interesting apps in this area (SketchBook Pro for example) my slender digits don’t quite cut it as an accurate way to create strokes of colour. For this reason I have purchased a capacitive stylus, the reassuringly expensive Wacom model, and will report back once it arrives. I am not quite so naive as to imagine this combination as a Photoshop replacement, however I am interested to see whether it gets me back into the spirit of creative doodling at home.

In conclusion, I find myself using the iPad more and more as my primary computing device: the ease of use of the iPhone coupled with the larger screen makes for a compelling user experience. Not only is it a great way to watch, read and listen, it is also more than capable for writing (as I’m doing now) drawing, recording and editing. Although it sounds like delicious hyperbole, it is very clear to me that all personal computers will take this form in the near future. The Mac on my desk is looking dustier by the day.

The play, by J.B. Priestley is an intriguing whodunit affair which unfolds when, appropriately, an inspector calls. The members of a family find themselves one by one, unwittingly implicated in the grizzly demise of a local girl who knew each of them intimately.

I am not a frequent patron of the Theatre, but given my recent experience I would like to be. The cast were captivating, the set dark, brooding and dripping with atmosphere. Quite literally in fact, where sprinklers created a fine mist that hung over the inspector’s relentless questioning. At one point the centrepiece of the stage, an Edwardian townhouse exploded scattering its contents across the stage. I have chosen to interpret this as an overly dramatic visual metaphor, rather than the Theatre emulating Universal Studios.

I was even moved to tears at one point (just don’t tell anyone). All in all I had a fantastic evening, at an event I wouldn’t normally associate with a good night out. The Theatre: an enjoyable spectacle of murder, deceit and decadence, accompanied by Gin and Tonic in a can (yes you read that correctly).

I think ‘blighted’ is one of those overused words pedalled by newspapers and television bulletins when talking about street-art, or Graffiti if you prefer. I quite like it, it brightens up my day, makes me pause and smile. Take that over-critical world!

It is an inescapable truth that life is finite, but the world often skips a beat when the person in question has influenced or inspired the lives of everyday people.  For me these events often lack the significance that others bestow upon them. I might take note of the individual who has been unfortunate enough to have their whole life reduced to a brief paragraph, but on the whole I think we do better to look forward and take inspiration from the talents of these people.

This time around it’s slightly different, because there is a more personal connection with the man who passed away this week, or at least with his life’s work. The first computer I used was not a Macintosh, but the second was (and every one after that). My first mp3 player was a Diamond Rio 600 with space for a whole 8 songs. My second, a gift from my father, a perfectly crafted slab of acrylic and chrome plated steel with space enough for a thousand songs, give or take a few. Curiously, the first film I saw in a cinema was Pixar’s Toy Story. Pixar being the third company in a trilogy that included Apple and NeXT. I say curiously, because I would have been somewhat older than most people on their first visit to the big screen. In some ways I am grateful that my first experience was truly great.

When I was 17, I read a quote that went something like: “If you live each day as if it was your last, someday you’ll most certainly be right.” It made an impression on me, and since then, for the past 33 years, I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked myself: “If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?” And whenever the answer has been “No” for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something.

Remembering that I’ll be dead soon is the most important tool I’ve ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything — all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure – these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart.

Source: Stanford commencement address, 2005

There has been much said about this individual, and there is much more to come when his official biography is released at the end of the month, a candid insight sanctioned by the man himself several years ago. Of all the tributes, this is perhaps my favourite and most humorous. He was not a designer, but he had an innate knack for knowing great design when he saw it. He was not an engineer, but he had an intuition for what was possible. He made many mistakes, but he persevered until his ideas were realised in a form that he was satisfied with. If there is anything to be sombre about, it is lamenting what he might have been able to achieve in the next ten years.

On Monday myself and friends danced the night away to Metronomy at the Albert Hall, alongside several hundred lovers of Devon based electronic music (that must be a genre in itself). Now that the euphoria has died down, and sleep restored I found myself perusing old music videos of theirs. Much to my delight, before the band were popular enough for plebs like moi to have heard of them, they were making fantastic music videos on a shoe-string. The results, I hope you agree are quite charming: it’s amazing what you can do with some coloured paper, face paint and brightly coloured trousers. For me, it’s a great example of how having limited resources, most commonly money, can be a great driver of creativity.

It seems as though I have spent a good part of the past month in London on one matter or another. The Design Museum Summer Ball being the most recent spectacle to lure me to the capital. I was not I have to say, disappointed.

A museum may not seem a natural setting for a ball, yet it worked very well. Patrons were welcomed with toothpaste tarts and a string quartet, and encouraged to mingle amongst the three floors of the museum. I was made to feel particularly welcome as I was recognised in the ticket queue, handed two tickets (one for my attractive guest) and allowed to skip the throng. It seems volunteering for Open House has unexpected benefits (thank you Nabeel!).

Upstairs there was a Kenwood equipped kitchen producing cocktails and canapés to order, a cake decorating competition, mask making and ball-gown fitting. Much to the bemusement of other ball-goers we fashioned two cakes: a volcano complete with liquorice lava, and a bright blue police car. I’m not quite sure where the inspiration for the car came from, but it may well have been influenced by what we had been drinking.

Next we progressed to mask making: I think I excelled myself here. Being a Designer can bring with it an expectation that everything you create must be inspired: the heat was on. I went with a green (naturally) creation resplendent in its asymmetry: i.e. it was intentionally wonky. The Design Museum in its wisdom, had hired a professional photographer to record our creations. Therefore Issy (my attractive guest) and I had great fun posing inside of Kenneth Grange’s bus shelter. When I heard the words ‘you can stay for some more shots’ I continued walking assuming that they were for my companion. Amusingly, it was I who then became the centre of attention having my close-up. I loved every second of it(!)

As we sleepily boarded the tube on our way home we encountered fellow mask wearers: students from Brunel it transpired, after our slightly inebriated exchange. One final word on my headgear: ‘I wanted to say I liked your mask earlier but you were having your photo taken!’ exclaimed a female passenger as she lunged out of the carriage at her stop. At this point I was worried that Issy thought me something of an exhibitionist, although I won’t pretend that I didn’t enjoy it.

Open House is an annual event that celebrates architecture by allowing the general public to experience some of the capital’s best buildings and spaces over the course of a weekend. This year the site of the new Design Museum, the former Commonwealth Institute in Kensington, was opened to the public before work commences on revitalising this derelict building into a vibrant and engaging design venue.

Being an Industrial Designer, the Design Museum has always been a great way to experience design first hand: whether that be seeing the latest in creative thinking, or celebrating classic designs that have shaped the work of contemporary designers. As a member of the Design Museum I was keen to get involved in the consultation process regarding the new site and the design of the internal space. Initially this involved a series of focus groups and interviews, but later the opportunity arose to get better acquainted with the modernist structure by becoming a tour guide for the thousands of visitors due to attend this year’s  Open House event. A slightly daunting prospect, but tinged with the excitement of promoting the Design Museum and its message to a whole new audience.

I was tasked with giving a brief summary of the materials used in the construction of the Commonwealth Institute. This being significant as the architects (Robert Matthew & Johnson-Marshall) who took on the project in 1958 were saddled with a meagre budget from the British government, and so ingeniously enlisted the help of Commonwealth countries to donate materials to the construction.

Within my role at Cambridge Design Partnership I often have to present work both internally and to our valued clients. Bearing this in mind, Open House was a very different experience: not least because of the intensity of presenting to a constant stream of visitors in groups of 30 that were replenished every 5 – 10 minutes. It was also challenging accommodating and fielding questions from such a diverse group of people: young children, design professionals and the elderly, all of which posed different problems. However I applied the same basic principles I use in the boardroom; being clear, concise and confident in relaying the information in order to hold the attention of what could be unruly groups of conflicting personalities, and to help speed the flow of traffic through this popular venue.

One the most challenging and interesting parts was dealing with the people who yearned for more information than I had available, and those who wished to dispute what I had to say. All you can really do in these situations is be receptive to their concerns, and suggest further avenues for these people to explore if they are so inclined.

One of the most rewarding aspects of the day was being approached by people who had professional knowledge that they wished to impart. I learnt for instance about ‘Wood-wool slabs’ used to clad the interior of the roof. This material, once popular in the 1960s consisted of wood shavings bound with cement to create a low density material with good insulation properties. These were later depreciated as their durability was less than originally thought, and explains their absence in modern buildings.

I greatly enjoyed my involvement with the Design Museum through Open House, and strongly urge anyone interested in product design to visit its current home in Shad Thames. I was able to donate my time to a cause I fully support, educate a diverse group of visitors and hone my skills in public speaking. On a personal level I met some great individuals through our shared experience of the event, whom I shall enjoy bumping into again at future events hosted by the Design Museum. My thanks go to Sara Ayres for organising the event, and all of her colleagues and fellow volunteers who made Open House at the Commonwealth Institute possible.

The Design Museum in London is a venue that has done a great deal to raise the profile of the design industry, champion creative thinking and celebrate the work of the world’s best designers and architects. As part of an ongoing expansion and increased popularity of the museum, the Design Museum is set to relocate to larger premises at the site of the former Commonwealth Institute on Kensington High Street. Work starts this year, and is due to be completed by 2014.