Inspired by a youtuber’s analog on-the-go note-taking desk, I decided to try my hand at improving the concept. I sketched it, mocked it up for an idea of size, and then I said: you have a 3D printer, why not print the parts you need? Which I thought was a grand idea.
Being neither an engineer, nor a product designer, nor an expert in 3D modeling, I approached it as I do a lot projects in the digital creative sphere: I start throwing stuff into my application of choice and seeing if I could pound it into some kind of shape. This process is, of course, interspersed with many youtube how-to videos, much frustrated sighing, rage-quitting of the application, and multiple finely-reworded Google searches.
And then, for reasons known only to my psyche, just as I begin to see some progress, I begin to doubt myself.
“This is a waste of time.”
“Even if you make it, you better not show anyone. They’ll think it’s dumb.”
“There are more practical things to do with your free time.” This one hurts, because it’s true.
I had to take a brief break to wait for a part I needed to order. It’s a sense of relief that I can procrastinate and don’t have to face the doubts for a little while. But the part came in this week and now I have to continue or admit defeat.
I’m going to push through it. I think I’ve already made a couple of errors and will probably need to rework it, but the idea has potential. It might even be marketable.
Even if not, I’m going to tell my brain to shut up and I will keep going.