Inspiration is a kind of arousal of the mind and is, for me, most often accompanied by a burst of energy. Sometimes ideas come with an intense clarity, almost like a roadmap toward a clear destination. But other times they come with only a faint hint of the way forward.

The sources for inspiration are rarely coherent and logical. Reason has little to do with it. As the author Jack London once lamented, “You can’t wait for inspiration, you have to go after it with a club.” Life experience, natural talent and perhaps training can create an environment where ideas flourish, yet the inspiration for those ideas can remain ambiguous and elusive.

As much as we value creative intuition and design thinking, our most inventive work is often just beyond description.

We are often stumped when it comes to articulating an idea and how the world would be better if it were brought to life. How do you explain an insight that came to you while soaping up in the shower, pouring milk over your cereal or staining the deck?

In the quest to offer meaningful solutions to clients with very real communication challenges, the articulation of an idea is a fundamental requirement. After all clients have a right to the explanation — how a proposed idea actually helps them achieve their goals.

I’ve learned two things:

• An idea that cannot be easily articulated is not necessarily inferior. While I make every effort to present my design concepts as verbally accessible, sometimes the most powerful designs begin as hunches.
• An eloquent articulation of an idea does not necessarily afford the concept merit.  It can be tempting to get so caught up in the presentation of an idea as to lose sight of its inherent (or lack of) value.

When presenting work to clients, I only articulate ideas whose concepts I believe in.  I work to deconstruct the original idea, tracing a path back to the source and breaking it down to its communicable essence. By submitting a concept to the rigors of aesthetic thinking, a visual strategy is born.

At Journey we blithely refer to this process as “post-design justification.” Still, as much as we value creative intuition and design thinking, our most inventive work is often just beyond description. We aren’t alone in that thinking. There was once a dancer who, when asked what her dance meant, said, “If I could have said it, I wouldn’t have had to dance it.”

At our very best, the work speaks for itself. But we have to be willing, at times, to give it words too.