it's not about what it's about

All the world in one place

2010-06-20T15:03:00.001-07:00

A few ridiculous books, found during a visit to the Special Collections room at the Seattle Public Library.

This won't make any sense to you, I know

2010-06-20T14:27:00.000-07:00

I wrote this play a long time ago as answer to Joe Staples' request that we write an essay assessing our first 3 months of 12. At the time I thought it was quite funny, but reading it again now I realize it's mostly just inside jokes and weird commentaries on the WK12 world. Still, it was fun and amusing at the time, and definitely helps define my mindspace back in October of 2009.

Open publication - Free publishing - More theater

Good Thing Oregon Invented Trees

2010-02-23T17:19:00.000-08:00

I was told recently that if I want to learn to be an art director here, I need to just go to town on a brief and paper a wall with layouts.

So I papered a wall with layouts.

Fresh Booze

2010-02-23T17:13:00.001-08:00

Oh thank God, they are refilling the keg.

"It's too bad she won't live. But then again, who does?"

2010-02-17T01:32:00.000-08:00

Weekend jaunt down to LA for a friend's big 30th birthday turns into an opportunity to reacquaint myself with the beauty of downtown, with all its tacky cheap vendors and flashy tall buildings and grimy historic theaters. Also a lot of fun food adventures, and a photo excursion to the Bradbury Building to make me rethink my distaste for ever living in LA again.

We are not dogs

2010-02-17T01:02:00.000-08:00

Jamie and Manu let me help out for production on their poster submission for the WK Hand-pulled for Haiti poster show during February First Thursday. They did this incredible papier-mâché of a face and hands pushing through a wall of torn paper, and then silk screened a hand-lettered image of Haiti on the bottom as a sneaky way to qualify as a "hand pulled poster."

Jamie's sculpter/glass artist friend Jen came to the agency and helped guide us through the papier-mâché process, and Manu ran the silk-screen poster portion through the new silk-screen lab in the WK basement. It was an amazing thing to watch it all come together, and a privilege to be a part of the whole thing.

Things that I've learned in 12 so far

2010-01-30T17:25:00.000-08:00

Stefan Sagmeister says that graphic design, like film or music, is a language. Although it is maybe more romantic to say I love you in French than German, it is still possible. Rather than learn a new language, he decided during his experimental year off, to try to see if he could be more expressive with his graphic design. The result was "Things I Have Learned in My Life So Far".

Following that logic, I want to spend more time this year exploring the language of advertising and the potential it has to influence for good as well as help people express and connect with each other.

I get that it's hard for people to take: the idea that a communication created solely to sell a product or company might also have something to say about culture and to society. But it makes so much sense. Especially as new media requires and invites consumer participation in creating the overall message, the language of advertising truly is one of the most rapidly evolving ways to reflect and recognize the opinions and aspirations of both niches and the general population.

So then the next step is figuring out a statement. I think what makes Stefan Sagmeister so great is that even within the strict confines of design, he has a lot to say. He creates art + design that tells you what to do, and he's not afraid to do it. Nor is he pushing his messaging down your throat. He merely shows up and says something honest and assertive, and lets you make a decision.

Design has to work. Art does not.
Advertising has to sell. Art does not.

Can there be a middle ground?

Something impossible

2010-01-30T17:17:00.000-08:00

Such a long long long list of things to do, and we only have 6 months left

It is hard to find energy and enthusiasm to partake of and give my best to every project and opportunity here. But it's a nice change of pace to have so many challenges, and I guess that's something I am trying to remember. I want so much to be in on everything and have great answers for every problem, but obviously that's not always possible.

There will necessarily be times when I can't do everything. And I need to remember to let go and let someone else have the opportunity on those days. At the same time, there will be problems that are too big to solve, or others will want to take a day off, and it's equally important to let people have that option, and not be hurt or insulted by it.

I guess I just have to remember how much more disheartening it was when my life was only made up of problems I posed to myself. In some ways I'm still in that, I'm still the one saying "do it all" but at least now there are others with me.

• I don't think you realize, we have no time to waste.
• Be proud and excited for the work, even if you didn't touch all of it.

12 is: blasted doobs, ejaculating skyscrapers, Risface & penis drawings

Good Day Sunshine

2010-01-30T17:04:00.000-08:00

I need to laugh, and when the sun is out

I've got something I can laugh about

I feel good, in a special way

I'm in love

And it's a sunny day

This post is not funny

2010-01-30T17:00:00.000-08:00

Another old journal entry:

Casey has been trying to "teach" me to be funny. I wrote an essay on humor which he has not yet read or graded or even commented on, but maybe he is using the Riswold model of giving assignments and then not following up on them when they are turned in.

Great.

Casey has also been giving me ratings on my jokes and Tweets, which has somewhat helped, if only because it keeps humor at the forefront of my mind. But mostly I think he is helping me develop my sense of humor by just being around and being funny himself.

Being funny is not as difficult as I might have thought. I still want to get better at it, but I am starting to think that it's not necessarily the only thing I want to put out into the world. What I want to put out into the world is still what I am best at and mostly about, which is to create meaning, and make things that connect with people.

It's nice to discover a capacity for humor. Or rather, to recognize it in myself. But I also know that my best work has always been about perceiving true and meaningful things and then condensing them into a statement.

Either way, it is all helpful.

The worst kind of failure

2010-01-30T16:56:00.000-08:00

I do not want our year to be one where people tore each other apart. I do not want to fail in that integral way.

Back blog

2010-01-30T16:43:00.000-08:00

I do this thing now where I write a lot about something in a journal, and then I leave it and read it a few weeks later and wonder why I never blogged it.

Here is something I wrote after we visited Jelly Helm at his studio, and heard the orgin story of WK12 from our very own Obi Wan Kenobi:

One thing I felt really strongly about Jelly’s talk is the idea that we need to figure out what everyone’s best offer is. I am realizing that being someone who can both write and design kind of makes it so I function in a solitary manner sometimes. And he was right about how so many basketball teams fail when there is a shining star or showboater.

It is arrogance on my part to think that my choices and reasons for doing anything are more right. Instead, how can I find ways to make sure everyone is successful. No matter what they want to do. For instance if Beatrice wants a job in studio at WK, we should fucking make sure she is successful in that. There is no reason why it can’t be this way.

It was such an eye opener for me to hear Jelly also because of just how many ways in which I personally have lost sight of the idea of team. It is shocking to realize that even in my pretend efforts to be a team player, I am playing for myself. The truly humble thing to do is to be that person who can find a way to make the people around them better. For the greater good, and not just in a surface way.

Find ways to make other people better.
Figure out what everyone’s best offer is.
Give people permission to explore.
Create an environment devoid of competition.
Truly let go of the need to look good or be the best.
Have faith in the process and the program.
Listen if you want to be heard. (From the Wooden pyramid)

I think the mechanism of having a shared portfolio in years 1-3 did a lot to help people overcome the competitiveness and insecurities that can break a group apart. I’m sure there were still a lot of divisive elements, but that seems like such a great place to start.

The reason they stopped doing the shared portfolios was because people somehow had a hard time getting jobs with just the big beautiful 10,000 page photo book. From a practical standpoint it makes some sense, but I feel this deep sense of loss over it because I feel like it changes something about how we approach things. About how we approach each other.

I have been trying to think of a way to overcome this very basic philosophical problem. How can we create that same atmosphere of shared fate, without that elegant solution of a shared book?

“Set a goal. Concentrate on its achievement by resisting all temptations and being determined and persistent.”

Set a goal. May I propose:
To get every single person in 12 a job by the end of the year.
Or a place where they are satisfied and fulfilled in what they create, whatever that may be.

As a team vow to help each other do better in whatever we are working toward, and after 12 find a place where we can be at least as challenged and inspired as we are here.

What does that mean?
One idea I had was to try to rally behind the goal of "no man left unemployed" or “your job is my job.” List what we each want from the program, and work together to make sure everyone achieves their individual objectives. Put everyone's goals on a white board where we can all see them and remember them. We make helping each other meet our own goals our group goal. We truly embody a slimemold.

The idea of getting every single 12er a job or meet their goals would also take away a competitive atmosphere, and recreate the idea of a shared fate.

I know it seems counter to “the work comes first.” but if you think about it, it’s really the same thing. We constantly say "the work comes first," but what does that mean? It's just a pretty way of saying, if the work is good, we all win.

The work being good benefits everyone. But we all have different purposes and intentions, which are constantly evolving and we feel threatened trying to protect ourselves.

No one person's goals are more important than anyone else's. In fact, any one person's goals must become everyone else's.

We need each other more than we realize.

Homestead

2010-01-01T23:11:00.000-08:00

Christmas in LA

2009-12-29T13:18:00.000-08:00

Giant White Elephant

2009-12-29T13:11:00.000-08:00

White Horse Holidays

2009-12-29T12:44:00.000-08:00

Holga Test Run

2009-12-17T11:53:00.000-08:00

Accidentally wound them the wrong size on the film count, leaving the edge double exposed.

Drink drank drunk

2009-12-17T11:49:00.000-08:00

'Tis the season.

Other People's Projects

2009-12-17T11:46:00.000-08:00

Everyone here is making something always

When I Fail, I Fail Pretty Freaking Hard

2009-10-29T01:27:00.001-07:00

This last week we have been jamming on a big emergency project that we got last Friday. Top secret! The first round of presentations was today, and the 12 had been split into two competing factions, which made the whole experience kind of tricky. On the one hand, smaller groups means fewer voices talking over each other. On the other hand, smaller groups means less places to hide or shirk responsibility.

When we say responsibility in WK12, we mean writing copy and making designs and setting schedules and calling vendors. And sometimes we simply mean bringing out unforeseen solutions to complex problems. But a responsibility that I think I put on myself when I came here and which I have done my best to avoid in some ways is that of the helper and the leader. The person who cares enough about her fellow 12ers to support them and also oppose them, in the name of good work.

I don't think leading means glamour or spotlight or attention or credit. I think leader means stepping up and saying, I want us to move forward. And I am willing to discuss, or argue, or debate, or if need be fight, in order to see us do magic. In order to see us cross chasms and leap to the other side and not lose a single team member.

These last few days I have failed pretty miserably in my goals. The real life concrete result of that failure is that our team put out some pretty hackneyed and boring work. Even worse, we presented it in a fractured and disorganized manner and looked completely clueless. The words "this is my idea" were actually spoken during the presentation. And worst of all, some of us are actually so clueless as to not know that there was anything wrong.

But I do. I can't claim ignorance. And thus, I am the biggest failure of all here.

Fail 1: I went to Seattle last weekend and thus did not spend time researching the project.
Fail 2: In our first few meetings, I chose to stay silent. I was still learning the project, still formulating a strategy. I should have spoken up. I should have asked for us to form a strategy together.
Fail 3: Skipped lunch.
Fail 4: When weak ideas were offered, I did not try hard enough to make them better because I keep telling myself I don't know how.
Fail 5: Continue to keep telling myself I don't know how.
Fail 6: After feeble attempt to make some suggestions was met with much resistance, I backed off as opposed to trying to maintain my stance
Fail 7: Angry.
Fail 8: Stayed up until 5:30 am. Only babies and college kids have so much bad judgment
Fail 9: Did not back up a friend in her attempts to also take a stand. Threw my hands in the air and walked away.
Fail 10: More hand air throwing. More walking away. Some headdesking as well.
Fail 11: Did not push anyone further or harder on anything.
Fail 12: Took a nap instead of last minute run through on the deck
Fail 13: Did not stop the meeting to allow us a fair presentation
Fail 14: Let us be fractured. Let us be split. Let us put up bad work.

These are my mistakes. They are the times when I knew in my gut that I should be doing something different and I did not.

There are difficult people, sure. There are so many different agendas for being here. But it is hard to know how to approach someone when you spend so much time avoiding truly getting to know them. Or when you have gotten to know them so well that you can hear their counter-agrument in your head before you've even begun. It takes courage to still try to find a new angle, new combinations of sounds and pauses that might change the course even the slightest bit.

I am a hypocrite to have handed out buttons that said "You're the reason I'm here" but then turned my back on my fellows when it seemed like pushing them along would be too much work. I also am guilty of taking the "who am I to tell them what to do" cop out. The truth is, I am not anyone, and this is not about me. This is about trying to produce the best work and dig up the best ideas we can from the inner crevices in each others' minds. In the interest of doing that, I should be able to lay everything down. If I am who I say I am, I will find a right way to do it. But I didn't this week.

The work being what it is ultimately does not matter as much as my behavior being what it is. I hope that I can change in the future.

Viking Takeover

2009-09-16T23:45:00.000-07:00

Many moons ago –before we were really in the trenches of Wordstock, before we had let our guard down and then quickly brought it back up and reinforced it with steel and put up barbed wired– before it all began, we each in turn stood in the atrium and introduced ourselves to Wieden + Kennedy and said inane things. Then we played this little self-indulgent video of ourselves to premiere our "TV show."

After all that opening up and looking stupid in public, we felt like we needed to regroup and regain our dignity. So we donned a bunch of Viking helmets and gorged ourselves on a Norwegian feast prepared by Thor's mom. We got totally wasted on Viking booze, and then ran around the agency naked (except for the hats) and pillaged the shit out of everyone.

Not really, but we talked about it. Same thing, right?

Pre-game stretching

We're all just gazing lovingly into Joe's eyes

Costume Nikes, not for resale

That's your impression of a barbarian?

Real Vikings would have taken the stairs

Passing the grog

Which of you barbarians ate the head already?

A few words from our hosts

Intimidating. Intimidatingly adorable.

What a bunch of filthy Vikings

The Essay Backlash

2009-09-11T20:24:00.000-07:00

After having posted my essay on my blog for all to see, I went about reading everyone else's essays. Everyone who would let me. It was a weird experience. Reading people's ideas of 12 styled like they were on acid and then typed double spaced in Garamond was freaking bizarre. It gave me a lot of insight into who everyone is. And kind of to where I fit into things.

My essay is so glaringly sincere and sort of cheesy and surface-level. Or at least that's a surface-level way to look at it. A lot of the other essays talked about specific people, and how everyone is so frustrated at everyone else. Frankly, I felt disappointed by this. I was expecting to read a lot about people's individual struggles at overcoming their shortcomings, or about their passion for ideas or how inspired they are by the work. I felt sure I would read how people felt let down or inspired or disillusioned or disturbed or motivated by Jim's command of the school. And I was hoping to see something from each person talking about why they want to stay here. What keeps them going every day. What gives them hope.

Instead I read a lot of bitching. At this point, it seems like hating each other is what keeps us going and gives us hope.

One of my biggest fears right now is that even the relationships that I have here that I cherish and am growing to love will be poisoned and defined more by our growing distaste for people than by our common shared joys and jokes.

The hardest essay for me to read was by the person here who is most my polar opposite in personality. She is the most challenging person for me to know, and also one of the things that does give me a lot of hope. In knowing her and working with her I feel like I will learn a lot about myself as a person.

In her essay, she had all the 12ers take a truth serum, after which we all cried out some secret "hidden" truth about ourselves. She later added to me in email that the secrets are universal insecurities and truths, and can all be said of her as well. She did not spare herself in her essay. She too cried out secrets. But nevertheless, it was difficult to read about myself that I "desperately want everyone to like me."

Is this how everyone sees me? It is how at least one person sees me.

It's not that I disagree with that statement. I just don't want that to be the only thing that anyone knows about me. I don't want people to think that is my only motivation. That all my desires are turned so far inward, that all I care about is making sure I look good. There is so much more going on, or at least I think there is.

In feeling hurt by her line, I fulfill it. I want her to like me.

I want everyone to like everyone.

The thing I want to see here, beyond great work and personal growth, is a kinship and bond within a creative community. It's a hard thing to ask, since we are all competitive, we are all insecure, we are all unsure of ourselves. We are asking so much of each other to sit next to each other every day and work on projects not of our own choosing. It seems impossible to also ask us to like each other. Let's not even go so far as to say the word "love."

Deep down, I do probably need to feel liked more than most people. I like to feel liked. Where does that need come from? Do we want to get into that? Shouldn't we be talking about Wordstock right now instead? Who has time to rehash childhood insecurities when there are pole banners to be made?

And even if we had all the time in the universe to talk about these issues, even if Wordstock were over and done, what would be the point? After the truth serum and the honesty and the crying, then what.

The closest thing I've ever felt to real community and family was with people who achieved that miracle of miracles and managed to love and accept me just as I am. I don't have anything else to pattern myself after. Stacy and Leslie and Sani and the other women in the Thursday night group somehow managed to show me that they knew exactly who I am, but they also know exactly who I want to be. And Andy. Always the most faithful and honest friend, who reminds me every day of the good he sees in me, and overlooks the flaws.

Sees them but chooses to look past them.

What does it accomplish to cry out "I see the wretch that you are!" How much better is it to say "I see the person you want to be, the best possible you."

I'll get over this whole thing. It will just take a few days. Like I said, this is a challenging place. But I'm learning. And eventually I will see the best possible vision of every person in the program. And love them.

12 Essay

2009-09-11T09:48:00.000-07:00

Our 3rd assignment for 12 was due this morning at 10am. We were to write an essay about 12 in the style of Tom Wolfe's Electric Koolaid Acid Test, explaining why we were being made to read the book.

The deadline for the essay has been pushed back 3 times due to us not being done with our 2nd assignment for 12, Wordstock.

Our 3rd assignment for 12 involves dog poop. Our 4th might involve dog food.

This essay is really quite terrible, but it's been written already. I'm being lazy.

~~~
Writing the Unspoken Thing
or Here’s Some Fucking Travel Metaphors
or Extra Titles Take Up More Lines and Look Like a Longer Paper
by 03/12

“It was my destiny to join in a great experience. Having had the good fortune to belong to the League, I was permitted to be a participant in a unique journey… we creatively brought the past, the future, and the fictitious into the present moment.”

Where is this all going? And who’s in charge here? How do you answer that? And why are we doing any of the things we’re doing. What is the meaning of all this… all?

What is 12? 12 is about the journey. 12 is the journey.

The journey where? This is something I asked Riswold before I got on the bus. The bus to school? To work? Before I went swimming in the carpool. I wanted to know where I was headed. I wanted to see a list of my future lessons. As if you can see the future on paper. Sure you can see it, but not like that. Ask Mike about seeing the future. But–

The journey.

An invitation that cannot be turned down. The cost of the journey is real, but the rest is unreal. What will we learn, what will we get? Didn’t you hear! You get to go on the journey! Isn’t that the thing? Get on the bus and go.

Everyone has made sacrifices to be on the bus. Those sacrifices would seem to entitle the passengers to ask questions. Where are we going? being a good one, and How will we know when we get there? and What do we need to do? and a multitude of other things that any sane normal person would want to know. But sanity is not required for the journey, and questions will not be answered. They are not discouraged, they are merely left for you to answer as you will. On your own. To your own liking. And the correct answers are whatever ones you come up with.

Right and wrong are known in 12 but no one will tell you what they are… and yet they exist! They are in a sealed envelope, but the contents of the envelope are yours to make up! And when you tear open the seal, and unfold the truth, you find there whatever you already knew, whatever you had already been told and heard and finally just now absorbed.

12 is the journey… the journey toward accepting the flow of the universe and grooving with it. The universe of 12 is created and maintained by Riswold. Or so it would seem… but we are creating a flow here too. We are creating it but it is beyond our control. Beyond any control at all. Out of control! There is nothing to do but work and listen and see. See! And by seeing –being– see and be. Here. In the moment.
Believing is easier than seeing. Believing only needs the things we knew and thought and understood before we began this crazy trip. Seeing requires new sight. Insight. Seeing what’s happening means stopping to look. Listening to each other, listening to the Professor, listening to your own mind. But being in 12 means seeing the world and having a reaction to it. A real true reaction, a gut feeling you feel in your fingers. And then from seeing, doing.

12 is a journey from thought to action. And then from quicker thought to quicker action. And then, eventually, just to action. But first, we have to see. There is something to be learned on this journey, but no one will teach it. You have to see it for yourself.

The doors are open. The doors to the bus are always open. Every door is open when you’re in 12. You can come and go as you please. The only thing keeping you on the bus is yourself. The only thing holding you in, holding you together, holding you back, is you. You can step forward, you can step back, you can step up, or step on. No one is holding the door for you, and you can stick your head out or you can jump off. The bus is the vehicle of 12 but really the only thing propelling you forward is

You?

12 is the journey… it is the time of your life. But it is not a journey you take by yourself.

You are on your own –individual!– but you are never alone. There are 13 seats on the bus of 12! Your journey is together, but you are not going to the same place. Everyone’s path is their own, they take their own direction, they take no direction –some do art direction¬– they follow direction, they are indirect, their director is Ris, their director is themselves. Everyone sees the same thing differently. There is a moral to the story but someone is singing in Italian and someone else is reciting the multiplication tables and someone else is hitting a piñata. And it all makes sense.

The ideas that come to the bus of 12 come to everyone at different times. Depending on the ears, and the eyes, but also depending on the voices. Different people will have voices at different times, but at some point everyone will have a voice, and they will yell in unison. They will say different things the same way.

Are we on the right path? Is this essay saying the right thing? Is there such a thing?

12 is a journey toward being truly creative. Without the roadblocks presented by structure or society. Rules or lines or direct paths. 12 is a journey of finding what it means for you to create by seeing what there is and what there isn’t. 12 is about pausing to act and traveling toward a place that you’ve always been. 12 is a contradiction that makes perfect sense. 12 is the best journey of your life. But you have to get on the bus. You have to be in, all in.

And then suddenly, it makes sense. The journey is complete, and it is just starting out.

2009-09-10T01:03:00.000-07:00

I am supposed to be writing an essay about 12, in the style of The Electric Koolaid Acid Test, answering the age old question "Why did Riswold make us read this crap?"

Carson sent me his essay upon my request. It's totally the best possible answer and obviously the only correct one. I don't see a point in writing mine now. If this were a creative exercise, maybe. But Ris is clearly looking for an answer. I might just turn in a sheet that says "See Carson Smith for the answer."

Instead, I am thinking about ways to rid society of dogs. Or at least dog crap. Or at least Andrew Dickson's front yard of dog crap. But society would be a nice touch.

Every few days I wake up and have one of those "What the fuck am I doing here!?" moments. I think I'll probably have them all year and then when it's over I'll be sad and shocked that it's come to an end. Already it's been a month and a half. Only 10 months left. Can I make the most of them?

On those "WTF!?" mornings, I always feel comforted when the carpool drives over the Burnside Bridge. What is it about those few moments? You can see the downtown and the Pearl and the western hills, and Mt. Tabor and Mt. Hood in the rear view. The Willamette River spreads out on either side, like water wings. It is my favorite view of the city. It is the perfect view of the city. You are close enough to it to still be in it, to hear the sounds through the wind in the window crack and smell the city-air. But you are far enough away to see it almost in its entirety. It's the same way when I'm in Seattle driving down Queen Anne Ave and I can see the Puget Sound and the downtown and Space Needle and smell the salty air mixed with the city scents of Thai food and bike tire rubber and stale coffee. I'm in it, but at a distance.

As with the perfect view of the city, I feel like the best place to look at creative problems is from the middle distance. Close enough to feel it, but far away enough to see it all. The details are there, but very small. You can make out the edges of the mess and see where it ends. But the most important thing is the proximity. To be able to really still feel connected and inside the whole mass. I don't think you can really solve a problem if you don't know what it's like to experience the issue and and can't taste the benefit of the solution.

And when everything is perfect, it's like that wonderful middle distance view. You can see everything, and you can experience everything, and all of it feels just right.

Sharp words + sharp cheese

2009-08-26T01:04:00.000-07:00

Lots of crap has be taking place down in the 12 space. Craaaazy crap. Fighting and whatnot. The phrase "semi-bitchy" has been thrown out there. Not at me, but I've been told that I am not being assertive enough, and that is probably true.

Tonight a small group of us had one of those sort of meaningless but meaningful heart to heart chats, serious but sans the swearing. I know it goes without saying that learning to work with other people will be one of my biggest lessons this year, but what the hell does that even really mean? I've been watching a few people adapt to personality conflicts by being sort of empty and agreeable on the surface, and tonight's conversation brought up the question of whether or not that actually counts as working together. And if not, then what is the better way to get around those inevitable philosophical differences you will encounter?

I don't think that there was much of an answer.

But in talking about it, I realized that my way of dealing is to avoid looking at the differences at all. I do it in an outwardly positive manner by trying to focus on the things that we have in common, but what about when those commonalities are truly superficial, like "we're all in 12" or "we all serve Jim Riswold." Big fake gestures of team-building and bonding exercises do not take the place of real relationships, and maybe they even hinder the process.

So instead, let's get into some scary territory, and be really honest. At least for a few minutes. What's the worst that can happen? That someone elevates their bitchy-level from semi to severely?

The worst that can happen is that your ideas and your comfortable world and sense of self will be challenged. That your boundaries will get blurry and your rules will be bent. This is something I'm not used to. So maybe it will be good for me. I can only hope that at the end of this year I will be a lot more open.

In our attempts at being honest tonight, we made a very very little progress. But I will note that I came to a new understanding of how very different other people's motives for being in 12. And hearing other people's goals helped me reshape my own. Lest I forget, I am not here merely to learn how to get a job in advertising. I am here to figure out better solutions to problems. And by solutions I don't mean "social media" or "integrated marketing" or even "flash mobs!" How can you claim to know a solution to a problem not yet posed. And how can the solution to every problem be "that cool thing I saw on the youtubes"?

Is it too much of a cop out to say that I want to do something this year that's so new and cool that I haven't even thought of it yet?

Maybe my goal for being is 12 is to learn why I want to be in 12. What the fuck does that even mean?

~~~

I have been attempting to make something cool every day that I am in 12. However, I've encountered the problem that most truly cool things take more than one day, so I've adjusted it to "be working on something cool every day." I definitely want to make a font of syrup on waffles, I am working on designing a pinhole camera, I want to make a series of felt music instruments, and I have a few silkscreen poster designs on deck.

~~~

Most people from my two other homes seem mostly curious about my experience of Portland the city. The truth is, my life in Portland is limited by my finances, lack of time, and the fact that weekends are mostly spent with Andy.

I love Portland a lot from what I've been able to see. The downtown area is fun, and I love the Museum of Craft in the Pearl District. The hiking areas and waterfalls nearby seem excellent. There are an abundance of cheap movie theaters playing second run movies. The shopping is great, the vintage stores are always well-stocked, and if you don't feel like paying for your stuff, the road-side free-for-alls are great as well.

The food is wonderful and covers the perfect range, from super cheap novelty food carts to specialized specific highly crafted gastro-adventures. I have yet to hear anyone say "Well the one thing Portland lacks is..." or "I really wish Portland had some ..." Tonight I had $8 crepes with gorgonzola poached pear roasted garlic and hazelnuts for dinner at a place 3 blocks from my work. There is a food cart that just serves fried pies and another that will deep fry anything you bring. Anything!

Aesthetically the city is a great fit. Everything is adorable, everything is well designed, everything has cute animals on it. And everyone pays a lot of attention to design. People like typography. Handmade everything. Textures galore.

It's hard for me not to fall in love with Portland. But my heart already belongs to two places. I know now what it is like to not pin your identity on your place of residence. I do not feel like I am from Seattle, but I do not feel like I am from LA. When someone mentions Dodgers or Mariners or Bruins or Huskies or Disneyland or Pike Place I feel a great affection and homesickness.

Anyways, being too attached to Portland is a problem only for the future. For now, it is nice every morning when we carpool across the river and see the Made in Oregon sign and walk through the doors of Wieden + Kennedy and see the beaver statue. I am preoccupied with trying to think of something outrageous to deep fry at that food cart. Maybe a 2lb Tillmook sharp cheddar baby loaf.

Not difficult, nor important

2009-07-31T09:46:00.000-07:00

Have not been good about updating this blog, but I have been trying to send individual correspondence and make phone calls and gchat with people when time allows. Those individual relationships are the ones that matter most. And Andy. I feel like I neglect him. He has been so supportive and generous, and listens for hours while I talk about my interactions with 11 other people he's never even met.

One of the girls in the program, our little account manager and organizer Rachel, was telling us the answer to what seems like the eternal question of WK12: "Why did you want to be in 12?" She said she saw an interview with Dan Wieden and David Kennedy where they were asked how they do such amazing work at WK. Everyone is always so enthralled by WK, but people here are so down to earth and casual about it. And Rachel said in the interview she watched, Kennedy replied "What we do isn't really all that difficult." To which Wieden added "Nor is it that important."

Rachel loved that. It brought her here. I love it too. I love Rachel. I think we all kind of adore David Kennedy. He brings us vegetables from his garden. With print outs of recipes. Because he knows we "don't get a wage but [we] still need to eat." He is the cutest man ever.

Everyone always says "It's just advertising. It's not saving lives." And yet I think people often get very caught up in it, because so much time is spent learning the craft. And because the people you meet in an agency are so interesting. But I know that it's the people I love that are truly important to me. Even if I'm pretty bad at keeping in touch. My relationships and individual correspondence need to be the first priority of communication. What I am doing here is really not all that important. What I am learning and the people I am meeting are everything, but the work of advertising does not matter nearly as much as the people in my life that I dearly miss this year.

In lieu of writing a long detailed post, here is a bit of an excerpt I wrote to a friend, updating him on my doings:

"I am loving Portland, yes. I am moreso loving Wieden because of the brilliant people I've met here. Everyone is an inspiration. Everyone has something to say that makes me pause and take notes.

The program so far has been a creative clusterfuck of the best possible kind. We are all learning the edges and overlaps of our personalities and abilities. But they gave us our first assignment and have let us just run with it. The problem is that we are a pack of untrained puppies. We are running in different directions. The tethers are very long and loose, so we are also very tangled.

But they are all really lovely puppies, so it's ok.

Riswold buys us a lot of drinks. There are milkshakes.

On our second day we did a "book report" WK12-style. My team wrote a song using the Jethro Tull tune "Bungle in the Jungle." I played a flute solo in the atrium and we made a pig pinata which people beat to a pulp with "a stick sharpened at both ends" whilst we sang about Riswold the Tiger.

That was day 2.

It is a fucking blast. It is exhausting. I miss Andy."

Perhaps these photos will tell the story better:

New friends

Where the chief sits

03/12

Screwing around during rehearsal in the gym

It was us all along

Pork pinata

Kill the pig

Celebratory fondue at Rontoms

Mobile bed

Sunday breakfast at Moxie RX, before hitting the garage sale circuit

Order up some lunch truck goodness.

Apple and brie

Miss you

Bringing Joy to a Not-So-Random One

2009-07-23T02:13:00.000-07:00

I have an opportunity to sleep right now but I am not taking it. My loud clunky keyboard is probably preventing others from sleeping as well. I feel the need to at least attempt to keep this blog up to date and much has happened in the last 3 days.

It is going well with the 12. Except that there are actually 13. And except that right now there are only 11. Two have been waylaid by the government on account of them being not Americans. I think Vancouver BC is barely not America, but I guess someone would beg to differ. I am number 3 of 12. I have a tshirt that proclaims it so. In my first project, a book report on Lord of the Flies, I was teamed with the other "Odds." I am a number, but in this context the number somehow adds identity rather than taking it away.

My teacher Jim Riswold, writer of famous copy about just doing "it," greeted us famously with the words "Fuck you." I can say "famously" because I know at least 3 other students Facebooked about it. For some reason those are the perfect 2 words to start off the year. By the end of the year I hope to have the words to express why they are so perfect. Or at least formulate an appropriate comeback.

Perhaps I am guilty of being too earnest and too naively enthusiastic, but it is my hope to somehow over the course of the year make Jim Riswold happy. It's convenient that he is in charge of passing or failing me. It would seem making him happy would be a self-serving goal. But pleasing him and making him happy occur to me as separate things. I like Riswold. I admire him as well, but I instinctively like him. I don't know why. I don't think he can relate to me or I to him. I doubt he has much respect for me or would ever bother with me if he met me in any other circumstances. Although we will spend a lot of time together, I think it will be hard to get to know him. And because as a trick of my upbringing I automatically distance myself from people in authority, I think it will be especially hard for me to approach him.

All these things serve to make it more challenging for me to make him happy. Therefore all the more reason why I should choose him. I don't know why he decided to take on 12, but I would like to figure it out.

I have all year.

In your love, my salvation lies

2009-06-23T14:19:00.000-07:00

Andy and I watched Away We Go last night, whittling away at the $223 AMC gift card that I won at work from the holiday party. That $223 would have gotten me 15.9 movie dates when I was in high school, 22.3 if we both had our student IDs; now they don't have student prices and we will be lucky if we can see 11.1 films together. I'm not complaining. I just like to point out facts like that. I see it as a privilege of age: getting to comment about how much things cost Now as opposed to Then.

I loved the movie. It speaks to me in some weird way. Well, in this weird way:

"I will love you even if you get so fat that I can't find your vagina. Go ahead and write that in stone. In your heart."

Also:
"He's boring. He uses the word 'robust' a lot."
"Uh... That's because lots of things are robust."

A lot of the reviews call it "smug" and "condescending." Many of the characters do end up as caricatures but I don't feel like any of them are being judged. Not much anyways. It feels more like a movie about people who don't always fit in, rather than people who think they're better than you. I guess only a certain segment of the population will really love and relate to it but I don't think that means anything in particular about either the people who relate or about the people who think the movie is myopic. Obviously the distributor thought the overall numbers were good enough to pick it up.

My favorite review comes from always dependable The Stranger, Seattle's Only Newspaper, which points out "if you’ve ever consciously considered how to live your life while doing the least harm possible to others, or if you’ve ever felt overwhelmed by the amassing of little responsibilities that happens when you become an adult, or if you’ve ever wondered if you’re a fuckup, this is a rare movie that’s meant just for you."

While watching that film that was clearly made, just for me, I realized what a great treasure it is to be observing a performance and recognize a connection with characters. To feel understood and through that understanding, somehow less alone in the universe. How powerful such a thing can be. I have decided that during my year in WK12, along with learning to sell products and spread viruses and make stuff and wear Nikes, I want to connect THAT WELL with just one person.

It's something people often say: If I can touch just one person I'll consider my work worthwhile. But I mean it literally too. I am going to select One Person and make it my mission to create a piece of art or film or some expression that will connect with them and give them something to solidify their sense of their place in the universe. That's my plan. When we do our goal assessment at the start of the program, that's what I'm going to say.

Maybe I should pick that person now. At random. From a phone book. Do people still have phone books? Or do I have to go download a iPhone app for that? I remember when we used to get phone books and use them as step stools or side tables. Back when I could watch a movie for $5. Anyways. I'm going to find one person and make one person feel loved. Yes.

2009-06-17T14:47:00.000-07:00

On Saturday we hiked the 5.5 mile 3500 foot elevation gain Upper Big Quilcene Trail in the Olympic National Forest. Which is a lot of designations for what ended up being just 4 hours of hiking uphill, carrying a 20 pound pack and following the sound of a bell attached to the pack of the person in front of me. Not knowing exactly how far we were from the base camp, it seemed symbolically held away from us in the distance. It could be around the next tree, or not exist at all. At times it felt like a vision quest, where my mind would tune out the rest of the world and all I knew was the feeling of pulling my body upwards with my leg muscles.

Days later now, I don't really recall what it was like to be on the trail, hugging the side of the mountain and pondering reality while for once my body used up its energy and water as opposed to storing it for a winter that never really comes. I don't have anything to remind of that experience other than a dull ache in my legs. If my legs could talk they would say, Hey remember that one time we had to work really hard? That was weird.

It disturbs me when things are not as big a deal as they seemed at the time. Or conversely, when things are a bigger deal than anyone thought.

My life is changing all around me, quietly. Things are in motion and about to change in this enormous way, but I don't really feel any different either. I'm still sitting here at my job, surreptitiously chatting and Twittering and checking the blogs. I still go home to my cozy apartment and hug my Andy hello and water the houseplants and put off doing the dishes. But soon this won't be my cubicle anymore, and I won't be watering those plants or hugging that Andy (at least not as often) and I won't be doing any dishes because in order to have dishes one has to eat, and I'm pretty sure being a Starving Student does not involve much eating.

My coworker Clint told me I could always live under the Burnside Bridge, which I think is a joke of some sort, but I won't understand it till at least a month from now.

Win

Yeah, we're totally kicking your ass, clouds.

All in

2009-06-10T08:34:00.000-07:00

WK12 emailed me my acceptance PDF on Wednesday. Very formal, they bothered to have Adobe distill it and postscript it and everything. This is Serious.

On Thursday I applied for a loan and called my parents.

On Friday I sent a signed stack of enrollment forms and a check to 224 NW 13th Ave.

On Saturday I watched the Mariners beat the Twins and then had a Pimm's Cup at White Horse.

On Sunday I fed wheat bread to a yak and watched the sunset over the Dungeness Spit.

On Monday I quit my job.

In 26 days I start school.

---
update:

Yes.

¡Charge!

Don't talk back.

Ok but they have sunsets in Oregon too right?