I love Ohno Type Co's instagram account. If you’re a graphic designer, there’s a huge chance you’re already familiar, but if you aren’t it’s mainly James Edmondson making silly reels, plying Ohno's wares, and even doing a little education along the way. It's entertaining, friendly, and lighthearted. An easy follow.
The other week James posted a few messages that were decidedly out of character. He talked openly about how he got sick and ended up sliding into a low place — low energy, low self esteem, and a lack of purpose. He got so low that he made an appointment with his doctor and got on antidepressants.
I felt so grateful to James for sharing this. It felt like a relief. It felt like something was being righted — something I didn't even know was wrong.
Part of what made James’ posts so striking came from their juxtaposition with Ohno’s light social media presence, and with the light tone of social media at large. Nearly everything we show each other online falls into only a few categories—it’s meant to entertain, or share good news, or promote, or celebrate wins. There is a whole other side of human experience that is omitted—for reasons that are understandable, and for reasons that are less so.
I realized that Ohno was a kind of Disneyland in my mind, where James and his crew just made cool-ass fonts, only had fun, and were being super successful at it. Of course the reality was different. Of course James has worries, mouths to feed, and typefaces that were less commercially successful than I knew. The fact that it came as some kind of revelation was sort of disturbing. And also, I found myself wondering: why is it so damn refreshing when someone talks publicly and frankly about their suffering?
There’s a term I'm sure you've heard of by now—toxic positivity. I bet it’s already being bandied about in overly simplistic ways, but the I think that the idea behind it is really astute. There is a harm being done to ourselves and others when we only showcase our pleasures and sweep our pains under the rug.
I’d like to suggest a sister term to that of toxic positivity — something like restorative negativity. I'm talking about posts like James’ that complicate and humanize our feeds. The School of Life has a whole strain of thought about pessimism that feels in keeping with this. I’m also reminded of my friend
from Illiterate Light’s thinking and practices around shadow work.I’m realizing that restorative negativity is why I like darkness in movies, songs, novels, etc. It’s not because I’m a bummer Eeyore-type (although I suspect some of there is some of that). It’s because without that stuff, all that media seems to be is one pleasant experience after another. These counter-messages—these dark arts (lol)—are doing the essential work of restoring the picture of humanity to fullness.
Something I often hear in guided meditations is to let your personal suffering connect you to others. For example, if you’re feeling anxious, consider that fact that you are not alone in your anxiety, and that in any given moment there are hundreds (billions?) of people experiencing a similar emotion. Thinking that way can make the doors of compassion swing open much more easily. When someone shares their negativity publicly, compassion is even easier to access—our shared suffering is no longer hypothetical—it’s real. You can say with certainty that someone else has been there.
I’ve been thinking about medicine—the things we reach for to make ourselves feel better. Could it be that this brand of negativity offers a cure for some of our modern diseases? Of course I want to take care—there is obviously toxic negativity, and we shouldn’t overlook the good a dose of old-fashioned restorative positivity can do. But it is fascinating and I think ultimately wise to see how medicines of all kinds can be abused, how some medicines are underutilized, and how bad we all can be at knowing what we need.
Thanks for reading. Hope you get the good medicine. See ya next month.
Recent Work
Some of what’s flown the coop. You can always see more over at the ol’ portfolio: brentmccormick.com
Whiskers on kittens
A few of my favorite things.
I loved listening to the audiobook form of these essays from Zadie Smith. Cool to hear someone so in command of language talk about their art form, and to critique the work of others with insight, precision, and nuance. Makes me wanna read more seriously. It’s all great, but the closing essay on David Foster Wallace is still on my mind — I love the case she makes for challenging art that doesn’t aim to please.
Speaking of, I’m late to the game (which to be honest is my default setting and something I’d like to write about) but the 3rd season of Atlanta is so great. Art that afflicts the comfortable and comforts the afflicted.
The work of Online Ceramics. Candy.