Archive for November, 2008

Serious.

November 18, 2008

Your mom is serious.

I am having a serious moment.

Jen, how’s your novel coming?

Seriously, is this blog even helping at all????? Well, I guess if Brian is getting to express himself to the world through iPhone Photography, it must be.

Ok. Phew. So, I saw a therapist for the first time in over 3 years a couple weeks ago. He asked me to think about the answer to the “miracle question.” Basically, if all your problems miraculously disappeared, how would you go about living your life?

Like Jen and her 1000 words a day (I at least read HER posts), what would I do if I wasn’t writing this blog?

Well, I have a bunch of things I would like to do. Make a book, finish my portfolio, open a store. But I don’t think Mr. Therapist wants to hear about that. Well, maybe he does, he seems nice enough, and he’s getting paid for chrissakes, but I think he’s more curious as to how I’m going to go about doing that. And that’s where I’m still stumped. As much as I can say I’m trying, I’ve got little to show for it. Anyone who knows me already has an arsenal of things to give me a hard time about.

How’s your website coming?

How come you don’t answer my e-mails?

Have you gotten your driver’s license yet, you 27 year old freak?

Usually my answer is somewhere between, “Well, I started…” and, “Eff off.” It’s quite shameful really.

I’m often inspired by those who set a goal to create one thing every day, but that’s just not for me and not just because of my inability to put an end to anything I start. It’s mostly that, but I also don’t want to finish things for the sake of finishing them. And let’s be honest, if I started one thing a day, I’d have a lot more unfinished work. Thus, here’s my goal for this blog. Instead of doing one thing a day, I will finish one thing per post. I can’t post here until what I’m working on is finished. If I do, all of the imaginary people reading this will be able to add to their imaginary arsenal. Public shame in action.

Hopefully I will post something before the end of the year.

-This Gal

PS. Did you hear that we totally gay-married James Franco immediately following the Milk premiere? We didn’t know that it was going to be legal in all of America AND the world, or even that we were all actually gay men (including James), but it somehow happened anyway, and the next day, the protests worked and Shimon Peres and Mahmoud Abbas got gay-married too and Bush and Ahmadinejad were both totally cured by the Care Bear Stare. See? Rainbows really are magic. The only person in the whole world that was sad was Sam Adams because we beat him to it.

PPS. straightsforgays.com

Advertisements

Keep Portland Beerd

November 16, 2008

Our friend (most of the time) Toby the Frustrated iPhone Photographer, submitted this picture to thereluctantcreative. We have always felt that Johnny should open his own gallery of random iPhone pics. In the meantime, we’ll be his pimps.

By Brian T. Wilson, Dramatic iPhone Photographer

This just in: Carl would prefer to be tagged as a “Dramatic iPhone Photographer.” So be it, Babes.

-J

What I wish about when I wish about writing

November 15, 2008

Since we’re writing a blog about how we don’t write (or design, or draw, or paint, or wash dishes, or fack) enough, I guess we should tell you what we wish we were doing more of. Maybe Erin already said her piece, I don’t have the attention span to read our own blog though, so pardon my redundancy.

I wish I wrote more novels. Wait! Correction! I wish I wrote more OF my novels. As in, I wish I didn’t write 80 percent of a novel in three weeks and then decide it’s total crap and abandon it to fester til eternity on my hard drive, then start a new one, and, RINSE AND REPEAT. I mean, what kind of dinkus has FOUR 80 percent finished novels on her hard drive? Hello? Anyone? I crave bad company here.

Are we setting goals? My goal is to write 1000 words a day on my novel. In the best of times, hopped up on no less than three bars of 82 percent cacao chocolate and lots of green tea, this would take me thirty minutes. In the worst of times it would take me seven months (yes,this is how long it’s been since I write anything on my latest novel).

I have to start the implementation of this goal on Saturday, because tonight I’m going to the Milk red carpet premiere with Erin, Michelle, and Michael. Our seats are six rows from Sean Penn’s seat. Naturally we’ve done nothing ALL DAY but email each other about what to wear. Verdict? Michelle is wearing a leather bra and her best stripper boots. Erin is wearing her marvelous new shoes she got on the Innernet and her Fonzie jacket, I’m wearing my diamond and bratwurst bustiere and new silver Paolo’s I got for a song yesterday at Nordy Rack, and Michael is wearing Sean Penn on his face. Oh my, just kidding! Don’t be jealous Brian Wilson! And if you’re wondering whether the omission of any lower body garments was an accident–it wasn’t. Running around Portland red carpet premieres in nothing but a leather bra and your wunderpants is the new black.

Hey, so wait, can we write dirty things about Michael and Sean Penn on this blog? Is that kosher? Is it kosher to say kosher? Sorry!

Should we have code names? Mine is Twat.

PS: I also want to run 1000 feet a day. I haven’t run since Paige broke her leg. I can’t run alone. Should running 1000 feet a day alone also be on my wish to do more of list? Am I overwhelming myself? Does this violate the principal of ‘baby steps?’

I’ll ponder this later, right now I’m busy tearing into my regularly schedule 4 pm Vosges bar.

Peace out,

Twat

I ♥ Squirrel

November 14, 2008

One thing that always pisses me off, as someone who never gets anything done, are people who get things done. Even more so, people who get things that aren’t very good done, and then are praised for their prolific nature.

You see it all over the place: awful drawing, awful design, awful writing, awful coding, awful food,* all with a beginning, middle and end.

From individuals with incredibly misplaced self-confidence peddling their wares on the internet, to large companies where you wonder just how many people put their input into a final product that is hardly worth existing.

Today I came upon the redesign (or re-imagining, perhaps) of the I ♥ NY logo and started on a trek across the internet trying to figure out answers to questions like:

Did it REALLY cost $17 million for just the logo? (Yet to find an answer.)
Did New York State really need Saatchi & Saatchi to launch this campaign? (Probably not? Maybe?)
What is their yearly budget? (Cannot find the answer.)
What was Travel Oregon’s budget? ($23 million over 2 3 years, including Wieden + Kennedy’s award winning 365 website.)

And then the final question:

Who the hell am I?

EEEEEEEK.

There’s a point when the, “I could have done that!” argument is just as lame and misguided as the the, “My kid could have done that!” argument. Well, no, I couldn’t have. Unless New York State was looking for a semi-witty ex-pat with half a portfolio and a thankless job at a non-profit to launch themselves into the league of their most famous city, an agency like Saatchix2 was an incredibly logical choice.

But things like the I ♥ Squirrel+Butterfly logo do tend to stare back at you saying, “What are you doing with your life? You have ideas! You could work there!” And your pathetic reply is just, “No, I can’t. Professional agencies prefer when work gets finished.” (Wanh, wanh.)

When we birthed this blog over a *less than adequate mini-pizza masquerading as tart that was the product of someone else’s dream, Jen suggested we could use SHAME as a mechanism to get people (including ourselves) off of their asses. We are completely willing to publicly shame anyone who is willing to join us in this endeavor of ass-lifting, but we will need your name, so leave a comment. (Your astrological sign may also be useful.)

And now, I will start. Let this serve as my own bit of shame:

You can’t see it, but the butterfly is staring right through you.

Symptom or the Cure?

November 13, 2008

Last night, for the first time, I opened WordPress, entered the password and username provided by Ms. Jen and clicked “Write a New Post.” Then, just a few words into my first sentence, every thought that I had regarding procrastination and this predicament we currently find ourselves in disappeared. Unable to face the empty text editor box, I quickly closed the window as if someone had walked in on me looking at porn, picked up my computer and dragged it to my bedroom. I watched a movie (Waitress, fyi) instead.

This morning, I’m at work with a whole stack of things to do and a deadline of one tiny little hour. I have a headache and there’s a loud boisterous meeting going on next to my office. The text editor that once looked at me with judgment now feels comforting. Like a therapist awaiting my complaints, or an industrial-sized bottle of Advil.

My point?

  • When trying to write a post for the sake of writing a post: impossible!
  • Writing a post when there are so many things looming over my head: surprisingly easy!

Now all we have to do is somehow manage to make sure all of our avenues of avoidance are also creative outlets. It doesn’t sound too difficult, but at the same time, I think there are a few birthday messages I have to send on Facebook.

-erin

Procrastinating Creative Pooballs, Unite!

November 13, 2008

Hi. It’s a miracle you are reading this. Or maybe it isn’t. See, my friend Erin and I were sitting downtown, eating lunch (a cheese plate and tomato basil tart and three bean soup if you care about details like that) and lamenting our own demented procrastinatory creative nature, which is keeping us from being The Next Big Thing, or at least from even finishing a)our websites, b)our portfolios, c)our novel, d)our dishes, and we thought to ourselves, we bet this is bigger than the two of us. We bet the world is teeming with frustrated procrastinating, filthy-sink perpetuating creatives who need a support group. So here we are. TheReluctantCreative. It’s us, it might be you, it could be your neighbor or that weird guy you always see at Coffeehouse Northwest picking at the bricks and talking to himself.

How does this work? Beats us! We haven’t thought past the “start a blog for people like us” part. See that’s part of the reluctant creative’s MO–get super excited about a great project, work on it for 10 seconds/minutes/hours/days, then dump it like a hot rock for the next best thing, like checking our Facebook friends requests or making a ham sandwich (me, not Erin, she doesn’t eat ham!).

We’re thinking that if we start a dialogue of sorts between frustrated procrastinatory creatives like ourselves, we can motivate each other with encouragement, collaboration, constructive criticism, threats both veiled and overt, and shame.

We hope you join us. Tell us your story, send us some work, offer up your opinions, write a sentence or two confessing what a procrastinating piece of creative pooball on the shoe of mankind you are. It’s therapeutic. We feel better already. You will too. What if this helped us all actually finish our big Creative Dream, or get started, or just get off tmz.com for a minute?

Thanks,

Jen