Steve made things effortless.
And he was the first to show his sense of genuine marvel when unveiling a new groundbreaking product. You could see it in his best keynotes. The iPod, the iPhone (especially the iPhone), the iPad, the MacBook Air. His repeated exclamations, Isn’t it great? — Isn’t it cool?, surely meant he was proud of what he contributed to shape and create, but also showed his excitement, his surprise, his incredulity at the device he had in his hands.
This was what I most loved about Steve. When you allow marvel to come and surprise and excite you at any age, it means that you’re still curious, ‘hungry’ and ‘foolish’, and this is what drives you, what pushes you to never rest on your laurels, to keep searching, wanting to do better & be better, to improve, to innovate.
As I said on Twitter this morning, Steve’s departure has made me realise how much time I’ve wasted in my life not doing what I want or love. Still, his aesthetics and his methods have influenced the way I work and think. I’ve been the hardest, strictest critic of what I do and who I am, I’ve never compromised on quality — either for the tools I use, or the fruits of my work. This is certainly a distinctive trait of my personality, developed through personal history. But Steve has had indeed his part in it, indirectly, by reminding me of those principles through all the Apple products I’ve used and use on a daily basis and that have played a major part in my life since my initial exposure to them, back in 1989.
But let’s stop here. This is not about me. This is about Steve.
The world is a bit more mediocre today. Probably Steve would say Let’s go and make it better.
I’ll try, with my writing. I’ll stay hungry, I’ll stay foolish. Thinking different.