up in harlem, good things happen.

One of my favorite things about NYC is how connected and energized everyone is. In my four years living here I've managed to befriend some of the most talented people in a wide variety of circles outside of advertising - including my friend Artem. He's one of the super smart people that left Google to do his own start-up and is on the fast track to being awesome in a big way. Today, I was lucky enough to be asked to come up to Harlem to learn a bit more about his company, have dinner with the guys and start thinking how my advertising and PR experience could help them become the next Application sensation. (Ya know those ridiculously awesome programs for the Android and iPhone). Its really interesting to me how now that I'm out of work lots of different opportunities that I would probably have little time for, are coming my way. And, what's even better about this one is that it allows me to do what I love while helping out a friend - isn't that awesome? So, I'm excited to start working on helping Work Smart Labs become awesome...hopefully I'll have news to share here soon.

Hopefully your Monday started off on the right foot, too!

writing 3.26.09

I'm back from vacay, and jet-legged and feeling very much not in love with my keyboard...but after drinks and sushi and getting all cozy with daffodils in my apartment, I have a feeling that tomorrow we'll be back on schedule.

So check back then for the full details!

writing 3.11.09

After hitting the pavement in the city, meeting with recruiters and making myself the best lunch eva, I wandered down to the Tea Lounge. I had every intention of being a good little writer and taking some notes, do a little reading, and work on this project I've been doing with Einav, but instead I ended up having this amazing conversation with an older Englishman. We talked about the recession (obviously) and how it really is a great opportunity for people who are laid off to get back to the things they love. And not only rediscover them, but really, geniunely enjoy them, because most of the time when we're working we don't have time to do that.

I've written about this very sentiment here multiple times over the past two weeks, so really it is the universe's way of yelling at me to get a clue and get on with it. So, instead of being upset that I spent two hours at the Tea Lounge and didn't get much of anything done, I'm actually quite happy. The gentleman I met was quite interesting and I love LOVE hearing people's stories. In our conversation I was reminded of what my Unkle in Germany said to me almost a year ago:

"Living your life for your job will get you nowhere, at the end of the day your job isn't going to be there for you - but your family and friends will."

I told this to the Englishman, and of course he agreed and then we both pondered at how Americans got to be so different from their European counterparts, especially when viewing work. I'm not sure where we went wrong, but as an American who longs to live and work in Europe one day, I think perhaps "my recession" should really be about finding that balance. Because, after all, my job isn't here to comfort me during the recession, but my family and friends have been there for me in spades.

writing at home 3.5.09

So, we all know that I sit at home most of the day sending emails, but I also spend a LOT of time writing text messages. Some would call my text-messaging an illness, but I'll hold steady that its merely a habit. But, I'll admit that my habit has only gotten worse since I've been unemployed. I fill up my inbox at least two times a week, and that thing holds 100 messages at a time. So, in going through my inbox and cleaning it up, I came across this text message that one of my friends sent me right after I got laid off:

U r such a f*ckin winner. And the two of us will sip Aquavit in the south of France in june together. Mark those words. And hold me to them.

Have I mentioned that I love my friends? I do. They simply make my face curl up in a smile and yes, we WILL be in the south of France with some gold lions adorning our table, I can see it all the way from the unemployment line.
Rar.

writing 2.18.09

Wabi-Sabi.
It represents a comprehensive Japanese world view or aesthetic centered on the acceptance of transience. The phrase comes from two words: wabi and sabi.

The aesthetic is sometimes described as one of beauty that is imperfect, impermanent and incomplete. It nurtures all that is authentic by acknowledging three simple realities:
Nothing lasts.
Nothing is finished.
Nothing is perfect.
Wabi-Sabi improves with age and wear. Like modernism, it loves simplicity and functionality. Unlike modernism's geometric boxes it is round and open like a bowl.

I found this via my friend Luke's tumblr, and I think that if the Wabi-Sabi mentality was accepted by more creatives, we'd all be much happier with the agency process.

In fact, Wabi-Sabi should be our mantra.
Wabi-Sabi is our happy place when the "perfect" spot gets killed, or they want a bigger logo or a more "retail-shaped" message.

Wabi-Sabi.
Say it with me:
Nothing lasts.
Nothing is perfect.
Nothing is finished.

Wabi-Sabi.
Its just (gasp)advertising.

So account people, if you hear me saying Wabi-Sabi under my breath when you come by, I'm not cursing at you in Japanese, I'm just burrowing into my happy place as you kill/molest my baby, because: nothing lasts, nothing is perfect and nothing is finished - and that's okay.

writing 2.4.09

Oh today really has slipped past my fingers.
Here I am at 11:30 sitting on my couch surrounded by notebooks and half thoughts anxiously awaiting that “ACH! Yes!!!!!!!” moment.

It hasn’t hit yet. But, I’m optimistic that it’ll come soon enough.

In the meantime, its just me and a the B.I.G. I tell you, the line “papa been smooth since the days of underoos” could be one of the best lines ever written…EVA.

Now to write something that good I gots to get more whiskey in me.
Hasta manana.

writing 1.29.09

I love what I do for a living...especially when I get to hear my boss say things like this...and I quote:

“Salina you have 2 faces: The “this is how its going to be get it done – listen to me now” face and the “I have no idea what you’re talking about – I’m so confused” face. Bring the first one tomorrow and be excited.”

<3 it.

writing 1.22.09

seek criticism.
words to live by, always.

writing 1.13.09

Wouldn’t it be better if today was FRIDAY the 13th instead of Tuesday the 13th? I always ask myself that question when its NOT Friday the 13th. Freaky Friday, how I love thee and your "bad wrap"-I wish you'd come around more often. But, Freaky Friday, what I especially love about you is the fact that Hollywood has used your “bad luck” in countless movie plots – the worst of which involved a Miss Lohan. Whenever I see movies like this advertised I wonder, what in the world would it be like to be a writer in Hollywood that writes this crap. Do the writers just laugh their way to the bank as they are selling out? Or do they cry themselves to sleep at night? Or, are they like many writers (myself included) that are just happy to have jobs right now and are neither laughing or crying at their situation?

Oh Tuesday the 13th, you’ve got my head spinning in circles like a Freaky Friday sans a mind swap with my Mom. But, now that I've had that mind warp, I must get back to concepting like a good little copywriter.

writing 1.12.09

Left my camera at home and I definitely have a case of the Mondays. But at least I’m sitting in the editing studio. Today I’m directing talent, sipping on a Boylan’s (yes please to pop with real sugar), doodling melancholy-faced girls on scripts and shivering. I swear they keep the studio as warm as the frigid temps in NYC. And while we’re talking about weather, umm, winter…what is up with the severe lack of pretty snowflakes falling from the sky? I beg of you, shower us with that pretty glitter so I can escape the city and go skiing. K? K. Now, where was I? Oh yes, I must get back to bossing around the nice man in the soundproof booth.

writing 1.8.09

After a full day of sharing ideas with Bernadette and concepting and editing spots sushi-ing with my bff, Einav, I find myself back at home with the sound of my cuckoo clock and the tick of the keyboard and an increasing desire to make this post one long, obnoxious run on sentence - if I was to write the way I spoke I would only write in pregnant pauses and run on sentences.................................and perhaps if I ever write a book that's what it will be called "Pregnant Pauses and Run on Sentences" by Salina Cole you'll find it on your bookshelves in a few years it'll be full of: random musings, doodles, tic-tac-toe games, MASH games, pictures of my brother, pictures of Brooklyn in the fall, maps of worlds I made up, movie stubs, ticket stubs, saved text messages that have been transcribed, lipstick marks, embroidered snarky saying, empty speech bubbles, wax dinosaurs, a long essay on why one should NEVER visit natural history museums, especially if in Chicago, a long winded recording of me singing while jumping on a trampoline, a tap dancing routine in written format (of course), the word 'Blerg' in 72 pt black Helvetica type on a white page, a detailed recording of what my friend Schoprah eats in one day, a drawing of my favorite pickles from Ohio.....and of course campaigns I worked on, scripts, and stories I've written to the people that matter most in my wee corner of the world and at the front of it all you'll find a dedication page that reads: for my Mom and she'd find it super sweet that I dedicated it to her but I'm guessing she'd never fully know why, but.... I'd dedicate it to her because she was the one who taught me to use my words instead of my fists and while I never used either my words or my fists in my youth (you see I was quite a shy girl then), I have learned that words can cut with a greater precision than a fist and so they too must be used wisely and treated with respect or they will turn against you and they'll force your hand into letting them run wild across a page in one long run on sentence and we both know that's not good. At all.


Unless it is.

writingg 1.6.09

I spent the better part of the day in a meeting so I couldn't take any photos.
Le sigh.
But, all during the meeting the following (run-on) sentence kept running circles in my brain:
OMG, yes...I agree...god this creative director is crazy good...who wears those type of jeans...can this project please, puhlease(!) get approved? Plllllllleeeeeeeeeeze?
Fingers crossed that the good stuff moves forward and doesn't die an abysmal prematurely young advertising death.
Le sigh.

Writing 1.2.09

Dear 2009,
I’d like to say I’m glad you’re here.

Me and my Ohio friends welcomed you in right, no? There was drinking, there was reminiscing about your old friend 2008 and now we’re on a journey of getting to know each other…intimately.

But (yes there is a but and we’re only 2 days in here, folks) I’m sorry to report that after a full week and a half of not gracing the keyboard with my presence my brain is a bit rusty. Now baby 2009 (my favorite version of 2009...I hate it when they make the year look all old like Father time), if this is how you’re gonna treat me when it comes to writing we’re gonna have to have a serious discussion. So, it pains me to report this, but you’re on probation. Yes, probation...until I get my writing mojo back.

Now, I know what you’re thinking baby 2009, you’re thinking that this keyboard funk should be blamed on 2008. Well maybe it could be blamed on the last few days of 2008 where I lounged and ate way too many Christmas cookies while watching bad holiday movies, but 2008 was too good to my writing for me to place the blame of this new funk.

So, I am left with nobody but you, baby 2009, to blame. After just a few hours of concepting my brain is wheezing like a fat man on a treadmill and that ain’t good. So consider this a written over-the-glasses look and a warning that if you don’t shape up, we’s gonna have serious fighin words. Kapeesh?

writing 12.22.08

Today I was having a conversation with my favorite playwright (she works with me at ye ol’ agency) and in our discussion about how much we love writing, she alighted upon the fact that the best part about it is that you don’t need anyone else to write. This thought struck me like a thunder bolt – its so obvious but its something that I’ve managed to forget this year. As I thought about it more, I began thinking about how Murakimi said writing is like running. A solitary exercise and when its done properly you are only competing against yourself. Sure there will always be other writers that you’ll compare yourself to, go to for inspiration, or admire, but really the one you should trying to beat more than anyone else is your own self.

That said I’m still working on taking Murakimi’s advice. Often times I look at my own portfolio and I wonder what I can do to make it better. What should be taken out or put in? I’ve long known that it is this act of constant revision that has me enamored with advertising – when it comes to selling yourself the job is never done. A portfolio is a creative beast with its own pulse and it is made up of what best represents you NOW. I love that ultimately your portfolio reflects how you change and grow over a lifetime in one field much like an authors collection of works. Even in one year the growth is immense.

This morning on the train I found myself reflecting on the words that I have written this year. The vast majority have not been written in the pages of my journal or in the confines of short stories but rather have been for work in the format of scripts, taglines and headlines – most of which have been killed. But again, it is that act of constant revision and striving to be better that has kept me going this year. And, as I look forward to next year I know that it is those personal writing projects that have fallen by the wayside that will also need my attention and constant revision. Because as I’ve learned this year a writer doesn’t much done outside of work without the self-discipline of a runner.

writing 10.15.08

Sometimes, being me is like the best thing I could ever wish for. Today my electronic-musically savvy friend, Peter, sent me Amiina. You know the former Icelandic backup band to Sigur Ros that I’ve been dying to get but keep forgetting about every time I go to the record store? Yes, you forgot about them too? Good. Well not good but I’m glad I'm not alone in my forgetfulness…but my god YES. My ears are all kinds of happy, new music to write to, yes please. I’m over here doing the happy dance in my chair which looks something like swan lake meets hipster and nothing at all like this fabulous video.

Virtual high five to a Happy Monday!

writing 12.5.08

Happy Friday! The past few days have been quiet, quiet, quiet up in these parts due to the incessant clacking at my keyboard and impending deadlines. My agency is pitching new business and with that comes great opportunity, a chance to work on something new (!) and late nights trying to stitch together the perfect words…essentially its my type of geeky fun.

That said, its Friday (dance a little jig in your swivel chair) and with that comes a haiku I wrote on the train last night.

Keyboard happy hands
Tap to the rad beats at night
Making words for you

Pictures are back on Monday, for realsies.

writing 11.24.08

My hands are feeling the stress of the anticipation of flying the coop from my favorite island. They see how easily my feet tap their way through the tunes that are enchanting my ears and they long to make such an easy way through the day. Instead they act coy with the keyboard when trying to write about chicken and only find their way seamlessly when writing about their stresses.

Oh my little hands, you crack me up. Today I wish you were on a walk and entwined with someone else’s.

writing 11.20.08

sleepy eyes and dancey feet make for a playful heart.
I found myself writing these words on the morning train this morning after listening to a mix that I made, I can't think of any words that ring more true today.

The whole day has been full of racking my brain for concepts for a new client. Le sigh. Love it, but le sigh.

writing 10.28.08

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It's true I really do feel like poo.

writing 10.17.08

A blank Word document.
Nothing is so intimidating to me as a blank Word document.

That little cursor blinks at you stupidly; almost mocking you that you haven’t made it cha-cha across the page. Well, little cursor man, I refuse to be intimidated by you! And if I don’t want to watch you cha-cha I don’t have to!! I’ll let you sit there for hours on end, just blinking at me. You can be a wallflower at the writing dance, while I work in my notebook (old school!) jotting down notes that may be worthy enough to grace your virtual page dance party.
So take that!!
…Umm…ok, so this could also be how I console myself when I have a minor dose of those two dreaded words: writer’s block. Now, iTunes, about a real dance party? Yes please!