Lessons in catharsis #3

The multi-purpose role of the PR person
1. To take the scanty information obtained from the sales people, coupled with the urgency and uncertainty of the client and compile it into something of a brief for the designer
2. To live up to the undocumented expectation of the clients who have been wined, dined and entertained by the sales people
3. To compensate for, and attempt to disguise the administrative ineptitude of the sales people
4. To overcome the crappy attitude of the designer, the unreasonable expectation of the client and deliver first class artwork that will sell the product while the sales people are preoccupied with the wining and dining of more clients
5. Think around and compensate for all readings and interpretations of the brief by the designer, including not reading and not following it.

Lessons in catharsis #2

The working definitions of the designer:
1. The ability to take the elements of a CI, splash in some colour and a different font and call it art
2. Are synonymous with a crappy attitude
3. Consider themselves exempt from sense and accountability, in so much as they believe the brief has been adhered to
4. Does not communicate in media such as words. This would include things such as telephone calls and emails. Rather unfortunate if you don’t work in the same office space

Lessons in catharsis #1

The unspoken functions of the sales person:
1. To wine, dine and entertain potential clients
2. To beg administrative futility and ineptitude
3. To use the very common gift of the gab and pass it off as an occupational skill
4. To be able to claim such benefits as entertainment allowances, exorbitant telephone bills and travel expenses for the apparent purpose of point one, while actually only really achieving points two and three.

Bogey Wonderland

Toddlers cry for many reasons: hunger, tiredness, pain, or to deliver an opinion with impact, among many. Toddlers are also notorious for behaviour commonly referred to, in some circles, as tantrums. Scientists have yet to identify a primal need fulfilment associated with, or caused by, tantrums. Psychologists have raised numerous hypotheses, opinions and suggested coping mechanisms for the emotionally draining experience of the aforementioned state of being. After bearing only one child, who has reached the ripe old age of 19 months, I can say with confidence that I have discovered the physiological reason behind the Throwing of the Tantrum.

Toddlers, without the rather acquired skill of nose-blowing, coupled with the tendency to force obstacles up into, as opposed to out of the nasal cavity, require a reasonable force with which to rid the nose of boogers that multiply on a par with household bacteria. Enter the opportunity to rinse the nose with salt, tears and excess mucus, while break dancing hysterically on the floor. Never in my life have I seen bigger boogers emerge from my daughter’s very cute, but oh-so mucky, nostrils as after a championship Throwing of the Tantrum. And never in my life have I been faced with so daunting a task as the clearing of the child’s nostrils. It generally requires both parents, a cotton bud, reams of tissues and one hell of a fight before the parents retreat from the task tail-between-legs and the toddler is left in a crumpled, tantrummed mess on the floor. On closer inspection, there is something more to the scene though: the willing exit of the offending booger, moving in and out of the nostril in time to the child’s breathing. One wipe... and one clean nose.

While the information contained herein is based on no scientific evidence, and completely on lay observation, I do hope that it will, in some way, give hope to the parents who fight day-in and day-out to perform the mandatory duties such as nose cleaning and nail cutting. And, to those at the end of their tether, perhaps there is a reason behind the tantrum, that serves everyone...

Vignette #1: Sociability

~
It was hot. Having left my attention at the post office or, at least somewhere en-route, it wasn’t until he was standing right in front of me that I realised I was in the way. I looked up and smiled; he nodded. It wasn’t until I was halfway up the stairs that I realised the new facial hair. I should’ve said something, I thought, that’s the kind of thing that starts conversation. No, I stopped myself, he might think that’s flirtatious. I caught my bedraggled, frizzy-haired reflection in the glass door and laughed to myself, thinking of the grey haired figure that was retreating. No, I don’t suppose any exchange between us could ever be construed as flirtatious.
~

On an empty page

So here we are
Alone.
It's been a long time
Since we last met
With no agenda,
No pressing urgency.
Just you and I
Stripped own to our bareness:
Matter and persuasion.