writing 1.15.09

writing 1.14.09

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 1.9.09

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.

writing 1.7.09

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 1.5.09

writing 1.4.09