Ad Caulk

"You kinda sort of have to bore yourself into a corner until you have to cut out of your body and emerge with something new." - Marc Maron

Everybody plateaus at some point. Life is pretty much made up of rapid growth followed by plateaus followed by, depending on your outlook, more rapid growth or rapid decline.

The worst thing about a plateau is the feeling of being "fine." You're doing fine, you feel fine, people are responding the same way they always have.

But for creative people "fine" is often not enough. You resent that feeling of fineness. Fine begins to feel rotten. This might be an extremely privileged outlook. "Why can't you just enjoy the success you get?" There's just something that makes you want more. Makes you want to do better.

As a result producing things on the level where you've always produced them becomes painful. That's when the magic happens (or doesn't happen if you won't let it). You thrash. And thrash. And thrash.

Until something comes out that surprises even you. Then the process can begin over again. It's painful work and I'm not sure if it'll ever be completely fulfilling. But it will come. Believing that is the only way to keep moving forward.

In school for valentines day they had you make this box. For people to drop valentines in for you. Students were required to give Valentines to everyone if they wanted to give one to anyone. (School rules. Not some moral code of childhood.)

And this box was supposed to be a personification of who you are and why you're meant to be loved.

It didn't work.

Well, except for Jimmy who brought in a undecorated Adidas box. He got all the ladies.

Here's Dan Harmon, the now-ousted creator of Community, on the relative worth of TV shows that we're "supposed to like" and all TV in general. It's candid and thought-provoking (but what incendiary comment isn't these days):

I mean, as the creator of Community, I'm telling you: It's all garbage. And the idea that my garbage, y'know, needed a better time slot or deserved an Emmy or didn't deserve an Emmy, the idea that it was better or worse than 30 Rock or Arrested Development or Freaks and Geeks and all that shit — you only have to take a couple steps back before you realize that you're looking at a bunch of goddamn baby food made out of corn syrup. It's just a big blob of fucking garbage. The medium is dispensed to people who can't feed back, can't change it, who only get it in 20-minute chunks interrupted by commercials, and you're watching either really well-written jokes or so-so-written jokes or terribly written jokes, but you're just watching jokes written by a bunch of people who all have one thing in common: They're not allowed to say whatever they're thinking! They're not allowed. You're definitely not getting truth; you're getting lies...

...The conversation we're not having is: "Hey, there's 250 million of us watching an average of six hours a day of a one-way transmission that only ever tells us that we are all animals and that we should buy Cottonell."

It's all garbage.

Allow the weight of that statement to wash over you. If this is true for TV shows, something people actually want to enjoy, then it has to be true for advertising, something people PAY to avoid.

To a certain extent everything is garbage. Including the things we hold on to with such fastidiousness.

This isn't meant to be pessimistic. It's can even be a freeing thought. Accepting that everything, anything, is garbage creates a necessity for doing something that gets noticed. Something that demands attention because it knows that time is short.

It's like that saying that life would be completely worthless without the promise of death. It adds urgency to life, an unseen deadline. And that's not a terrible way to approach work either. It may be garbage, but for a moment it can be something more.

Not to say that Harmon is objectively right. This is his opinion. But if a perspective like this created Community it can't be terrible.

Below is quite possibly the zenith of anything I've ever created. It all came out of a e-conversation with my very good friend Kyle. This is how it goes. Every time.

Kyle: It's the bee's knees

Me: These bee knees?

Kyle: God damnit.

So there it is. Feel free to use that picture whenever one of your friends calls something undeserving "the bee's knees." It'll happen. And you'll thank me.

(Even though the real magic is in the cadence of "these bee knees?") 

Gods? I can only assume as much.

And who are these Gods? LeSean Thomas and Seung Eun Kim, artists, and I mean that in the most respectful sense, behind The Boondocks TV show. The Boondocks happens to be one of my favorite series of all time. Aaron McGruder is clearly a genius but he also surrounded himself with  uber-talented people.

After a long night down the Tumblr rabbit hole I stumbled across links to these artist's DeviantArt pages. It was one of those rare occasions when I didn't feel I had wasted tons of hours on the internet. This was something special. Here's just two of their rough sketches:

Posterous' photo uploader is wonky right now. You should click each of their names to check out the fantastic detail in their works. If you want to see more I've linked to each of the artist's DeviantArt pages.

Look at the craft. Just look at it. Even in this rough state the characters have so much more emotion that I could hope to conjure out of a fully realized art piece of my own. I'm not sure if I've seen ads this well executed in the past few years. (Heaven and Hell for Samsonite might be one obvious exception to this massive blanket statement.)

When we got the storyboards for the Lunchables commercial I worked on my heart leapt out of my chest. Yes, words on a page are wonderful. Yes, it's great to see people appreciate what I wrote. But when we got those boards the spot came alive. Sure, there was some tweaking to do (there will always be tweaking). 

McGruder was known for being EXTREMELY meticulous with every aspect of the show, even having the characters change clothes depending on location. This sadly, inevitably, lead to the early demise of one of the most culturally important shows on television. But it's in these rough stages where an idea starts to look like something real.

And that is a feeling that, unless you have felt it, I can't possibly convey through a blog post. Not a blog post of 150 words or 1,500 words. Even looking at the pictures of the shot board on the shoot makes me giddy.

It also says something so, so powerful about story. A few simple lines on a page. A few flicks of a pencil can create entire worlds. Some of the most evocative art, in my opinion, leaves most of the work to the person viewing it. It gives just enough information to let you know what it's about then, like the very best written works, allows your big beautiful brain to fill in all that empty space. It's mind expanding. It's mind bending. Who needs drugs when you've got roughs?

Certainly not me. Honestly. These are the essence of the people who brought this show to life. I love it and I'm so glad I found it because I haven't loved anything with this kind of enthusiasm for a long time.

EDIT: Here's LeSean Thomas's site. It's a joy to browse through.

The similarities between this and many folks in the ad industry are shockingly similar. Once you get the awards speech down the work is easy. Right?

This is the video Nike released to promote their 2013 Black History Month line:

The shoes look fantastic. And I love any beat that comes from 9th Wonder, that's just a fact of life. But I can't help feel that the spirit of black rebellion does not live on in $200 a pair shoes. It just doesn't.

The whole video, and its purpose for existing just feels inauthentic. It's produced nicely, but ultimately talks about grit without possessing any.

Contrast Nike's spot to Macklemore's song Wings:

While it's not about a specific month or occasion it embodies a spirit the Nike spot only wishes it could have. It's actually rebellious. He's asking people to be conscious of what they chose to spend money on. To actually think about how people define themselves by what they wear.

Pointing out that shoes might not be the point of life.

In light of the Macklemore song, this effort by Nike looks even less about rebellion and more about showing off cool kicks.

Of course Macklemore is his own client. And anti-consumption isn't a message that most companies, least of all Nike, is going to attach itself to. But it's interesting to think about what Nike could do for Black History Month beyond a nice video and limited edition clothing. 

Also, not sure if this changes anything, but after all of this how do you feel that Macklemore licensed Wings the NBA as the All Star Game theme song? Does that change your opinion at all on the validity of his message? Should it matter? It bummed me out a little when I found out.

Lately I've been thinking about what settling into a career does to a person's psyche. And I think, not that there's scientific proof, that part of the settling process is that most people become massive bores.

It's as though as soon as we determine "this is me" we lose every other bit ourselves. Not quickly, of course, but slowly. Like water over rock.

This is probably why so many people stress the important of pursuing other interests. Having side projects. Advice that's easy to ignore with thoughts like: 

"That'll never be me."

"My interests are diverse."

"Look! I'm not thinking about [topic] right now. Right? totally not thinking about [topic] at all. [Topic]."

The even scarier part of this process, in my opinion, is failing to see when it's happening. Believing that things are the same they always were. (Newsflash, buddy, they aren't.)

That's what happened to me lately. At least to a certain extent. I let my interests slip away while focusing solely on advertising.

And you know what happened? My work suffered. My quality of life suffered. Hell, my friendships suffered.

The times I've felt the most alive and energized have been outside of advertising. Hanging out with friends, seeing a new little art house flick, entering a short film competition. And after those things were over I felt a new surge of creativity. A Do! Do! Do! kind of drive that directly impacted my work.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you for sticking with me.

If you started reading this blog last week. Or have been reading it from the very beginning. It makes me happy that someone, somewhere is reading this. Even though I enjoy writing in a vacuum (because, hey, it's a compulsion) it feels great to know I have readers.

Hopefully you've learned something, or been provoked by something in one of these posts. If you haven't, you can always let me know in the comments or via email.

Last year there were a few posts that were extremely fun to write. My personal favorites from last year remain "An open letter to the Drake University Advertising Program" and "A message from Anna Jarvis, Founder of Mother's Day." The first because it made people sit up. The second because it made my mom cry. (Aren't we always trying to make our mothers cry from happiness rather than disappointment?)

I've been slacking lately. Lately meaning the greater half of the last year and this January. Not writing enough to satisfy my expectations for myself. It's been a mixture of a whole lot of thing that don't need to be analyzed as much as gotten over.

Everyone gets busy. Everyone has bad days. Everyone has stuff that gets in the way of what they love to do. That's no reason to stop producing. That's probably the best and hardest lesson I had to learn in 2012. those problems are the exact reason to keep working. To keep writing.

Because writing this blog makes me truly happy. There will be changes (more on that in a later post) and that means there will most definitely be more writing to come. Better writing. More thought provoking writing. More diverse topics. I'm pretty excited about it.

Let me end by saying that I am extremely grateful. Grateful to the people who read this. To the job I have and apartment with wonderful views of downtown Chicago. To all the people who have helped me get to this point with their words, advice, recommendations, and extensions of kindness.

Thank you all.

Legendary DDB Copywriter Bob Levenson passed away last week. He was one of Advertising's greats. A Copywriting Hall of Fame inductee and, above all else, a truly brilliant writer. Few people can put together a collection of ads more impressive than his

His accomplishment I am most thankful for is the creation of Bill Bernbach's book. It remains the most important and awe inspiring advertising book I have read. There is the strong possibility that the secret of how to revolutionize advertising again can be found in those pages. Still working on finding that out.

Bob's copywriting work is nothing to scoff at either. His copy has a cadence all its own and remains fresh to this day. It can be as enjoyable to read as some short stories. Seriously, check out "Do This Or Die" if you don't believe me.

Although he hasn't been involved in the industry in many years, advertising lost someone special when it lost Bob Levenson. Who knows if the "creative revolution" would have been as revolutionary without him. 

The bright spot in this situation (if there can ever be a bright spot in death) is the sheer number of people I've seen about Bob's direct impact on their advertising career. It is impossible to see his work and not strive to better your own.

I sincerely hope his spirit lives on in great work produced for many years to come.