Tenuous Grip on Reality

Have you ever read Syrup, by Max Barry*? Pretty good book, released years ago. Focuses on a drink concept created by a man, and his attempts to maintain control of it long enough to get Coke to give him money for it. Product is named Fukk, and comes in a sleek brown container. Very angsty and shit. (No… really, I have a point here.) So I was waiting in line at the Soviet Safeway on Monday, and I notice a stack of Coke bottles on the floor. In slick black containers. With the name “Bläk” on them. At the exact same time, I both wanted desperately to buy one, while hating the thought of what went into that product if it was anything like Barry’s story.
*Barry spelled his name with two Xs on that book, as a joke.
Hispanic Protest March in Washington DC
That same day, I decided to go down and check out the Hispanic Immigration protest marches on the National Mall. I wasn’t expecting too much. I’d only heard of this particular march the day before. And marches that take place on a weekday are typically pretty small. But almost as soon as I stepped out of my front door, I knew something was up. The one sure thing to scare off the few locals who are willing to descend into the tourist regions of DC is to tell them there is a major protest or event going on near the Mall. But As soon as I left my apartment, a good 8 to 10 blocks form the Mall, I was surrounded by locals heading down there. Mostly hispanic families. Whole families, with grandparents, people fresh out of work, and babies in strollers. Several times I passed a pickup with a bed full of shouting people and waving flags. By the time I made it to Pennsylvania Avenue, I was caught up in a huge wave in people flowing onto the Mall. Another wave of almost equal size was flowing out of the Mall. By the time I got up to the Mall proper, it was really enough to stop you in your tracks. The entire Mall, full, practically shoulder to shoulder, with people, mostly hispanic. Tens of thousands of people at least. Bigger than 90% of the major gatherings I’ve seen on the Mall. The size of the Protest was staggering enough, primarily because I wasn’t expecting it. But a few other things rather quickly stood out. People who come to DC to protest are usually upset. They’re pissed an they want to make sure everyone knows it. Their signs are angry, their chants are angry, their costumes are angry. But at the Protest this week, everyone was smiling. Everyone was cheering. (Something I’ve never heard on the Mall in 8 years here). It had to be the most positive experience I’ve ever seen in DC. Sure these people wanted change. But they didn’t come in saying “you fucked us over”. They said “we love it here”. “we want to live here”. “We’ll do anything for this place, if you’ll just give us the chance”. And everybody was waving the American flag, in one way or another. Flags on poles. Flags on sticks. Handkerchief flags. Flags as capes. Flags as shirts. Flags as signs. 50… 100,000 flags, all being waved every time a cheer went up. These people, who were there to protest some seriously disturbing bills aimed at them and people who help them, were more positive about America than any other group I’ve seen bring their message to DC.
Anyway…
Since Monday morning I’ve been torturing myself over a project. It’s not particularly complicated. And I had no trouble coming up with some clean layouts that looked just fine. For various reasons they were just fine as is, really. But I really wanted to come up with some stronger “concept” behind the whole thing. But there were just so many things working against me. The type of project, the resources I had to work with. The nature of the client’s personality. So it drove me nuts for three days. This afternoon I told myself it wasn’t worth it anymore, and packaged up everything to deliver to the client. And after 15 minutes discussion, they narrowed it down to exactly those early, safe versions I worked up in 5 minutes on Monday morning.
Did I mention their “new” logo strongly resembles cigarette packaging?

Please keep in mind that this post is more than 6 years old. Who the hell knows what I was thinking back then?! Damn kids... get off my lawn!

a bad day

If you’re gonna post a gallery of images on consecutive pages of a website, make sure I can get to the next damn image by clicking on the current one. I so do not want to waste time looking for whatever form of navigation you came up with.
This was not a good day.
I should simply refuse to participate in any appointment or event which requires me to utilize an alarm clock to wake myself. The only time I ever enjoy waking up early is when I’m going to the airport. Late night or early morning airports have a kind of haze about them. The muzak has been shut off. The cleaning crew is more prominent than the guys with the guns. You feel like you’re floating down the hall. People act like people, and not like employees, and the tension is all let out of the place like an unknotted balloon.
But anyway…
I had to get up early. I had conned persuaded Drew into driving me around so I could take pictures for one of Jon‘s projects.
[Note to self: download the damn pictures before you lose them]
So up early, I was. Very early, if you ask me. I had to have time to do laundry before Drew arrived, since all my pants smelled of cigarette smoke from the clubs this past weekend.
[Note to self: heater always dries clothes faster than dryer]
My shower was prematurely interrupted by a client calling to panic. And while I shared her concerns, and was myself worrying, there is very little I can do, since the people hired to handle this portion of the project are still within their standard time-frame. However, there is no good way to point this out to a client without coming across as though you had said “Fuck you! I did my part, so give me money and bugger off!”.
So it’s a difficult situation to begin with, that I can in no way remedy. But these projects said client has been giving me are my favorites (and best) among my recent work. So I must find some way not to lose same said client for something I no longer have control over. Like I needed another reason to be paranoid about my business.
Shower completed, and other minor disturbances in the force quelled, Drew arrived an hour late as per usual. However, all that quelling had caused delays on my end, as well.
Throw bag together, put on shoes, grab keys, grab coat, put on pants, lock door, take elevator down, take elevator up, grab glasses, take elevator down, and meet Drew.
I had checked the weekly weather report at the beginning of the week. “Shit. Shit. Cold Shit. Shit. Wet Shit. So I chose the least shitty day–today–and decided I would take pictures then–er–now. But damn if it isn’t cold. And not just nipple-stiffening cold, but windy as hell, as well. But since I’m going out to take pictures, I’m wearing only a thermal shirt and a light windbreaker, (’cause trying to work with a bag and a camera and lenses while wearing a padded suede jacket is just ridiculous).
So I was forced to use the most inhumane of human inventions: the alarm clock. I have a nearly irate client whose work I adore that I will not be able to satisfy. I’m left in no mood to shoot guns, much less photos. And the weather is so frigid I can’t even press the shutter properly because my finger has stiffened up.
But thankfully a nice man at the yacht club pointed out that I shouldn’t be shooting photos in a national park without a permit.
This was a bad day. I am so sleeping-in tomorrow morning.

Please keep in mind that this post is more than 6 years old. Who the hell knows what I was thinking back then?! Damn kids... get off my lawn!