Chase that fleeting feeling.

I took this trip and its purpose very seriously. But there were a few parts of this trip that were not serious at all. The Pug Café in Kyoto was one of them.

Somewhere deep in my temporal lobe is a part of my brain that lights up for flat-faced animals, and it's a fascination I couldn't begin to explain–but damn if it doesn't bring me joy. It doesn't matter if it's a famous Youtube cat like Maru or a random Boston Terrier or a neighbor's French Bulldog I pass on the street. I'll take any chance to observe these weird and adorable creatures. They aren't the smartest or the most agile; they suffer from all kinds of health problems and weird tics. I love them anyway.

There's a shared fascination for cute animals in Japan. There are cafés dedicated to meeting almost any type: cats, rabbits, snakes(!), goats, owls... the list goes on.

Pugs? They're definitely on that list. I spent half a day at a pug café.

The experience was weird and surreal and everything I wanted it to be. I had to wait for space to open up in the dedicated room of an otherwise residential home. There's a photographic family tree of all the pugs in the room. You can buy a dish of treats to feed them, and get trampled by them once they realize what you have. Every dog has a jersey with its name on the back. There is giggling, constantly. It is a calm sort of mayhem.

It's also a different kind of happiness. One that, for me, bubbles in my chest like champagne.

I want to seek more of that joy in my creative life. To chase after more things that give me that feeling, however brief, and to make more things that give others that feeling. Unreasonable happiness.

When I think back to when I started my creative career, I think much of it has existed in the slight shadow of imposter syndrome and a self-imposed desire to create work that's as well-executed and as serious as the people I looked up to in school. Lately it's occurred to me that the projects I have the strongest reactions to now are rarely serious or high-brow. They're more unexpected, and sometimes I hate them at first. Many of them take the golden rules of design and break them– diligently. But all of them make me feel something, akin to being attacked by a grumble of pugs.

I'm trying to back off that self-imposed pressure to design seriously or execute perfectly; to give myself permission to chase that fleeting feeling.

Share this Story

Japan Trip: Part 1

Europe Trip: Part I