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creative don't speak...don't speak!

agree ~ disagree

There were about 25 at Souk on Tuesday, to talk about the recent perceived misstep by the city to get some help “refreshing” the cities website. Designers, agencies, associations, writers, theatre and a guy from the city! I was very glad he was there. But not the person or persons we wanted for the conversation. And while disappointed the invited city officials who invited the design community to enter a contest to win the honor of changing the way Portlandonline.com looks, couldn’t make it. I wasn’t surprised.

As a community, we have before us a unique opportunity. That with the right wit, savvy and controlled passion we can generate and create great change. Just because this strikes at the core of what we do and how we survive, does not mean that in one quickly pulled together meeting we would be ready and prepared to educate those that we deem in desperate need of education.

I’m not a web designer or developer. But I’ve found jobs for a few here and there. With this statement from the letter alone;

The fact that the contest winner or winners will receive one year of recognition on every page of the over 140,000 City web pages and all the additional web traffic that will generate in search engine optimization and brand recognition for the winner is a highly valuable commodity. PortlandOnline receives about 2.5 million hits per month.

It seems, (an assumption on my part) that they might not truly understand SEO and how that may or may not translate to measurable ROI for the “contest” winner. Yes, 2.5 million is a lot. But who is behind those 2.5 million hits? What percentage is thinking, while I’m looking for that carpool info or affordable housing, I’ll check out the design and maybe have the team that did this do a site for me.

Actually, if I had the cash and a business that I needed a site for, I wouldn’t be interested in someone who does work for the city or government. Unless I was a city or government. I’d go to sites that I liked or had similar concept and product and approach them. Now they might be the agency who “refreshed” the cities site. But PortlandOnline is not where I would go to find talent.

A contest is what my classmates did in art school to get their design up on a billboard in Kansas City. Actually, that had a cash prize with it as well. Point is, it was a “student” contest.

Some great stuff came from this roundtable last night. Someone who wasn’t there at the meeting Tweeted, that we shouldn’t care. I disagree, I think we should. So I said, “who cares? We should all care, it’s principle. No one’s work should be procured via contest.” They responded back, “I’d say you shouldn’t speak for others. if a pro, student, amateur wants to do the #portlandonline site they are free to (do it free). I disagree. I like the idea of a larger conversation that has engaged many who are speaking together.

I kind of blew it off. But now I’m a bit annoyed and confused by the statement, “I shouldn’t speak for others”? Well, “I” wasn’t really speaking for others, I was indirectly conveying the tone of the dialogue I thought I heard that we had earlier in the evening. I’m not going to sit back and let the talent that I know have their work devalued because someone doesn’t understand the value of it. I don’t understand that kind of thinking? Or how there is a difference in “speaking out”? They were using the hashtag #portlandonline so had to have been following the conversation? Should I not care? Should only they speak and not me or anyone else? Still confused…

I don’t claim to know anything or have the answers. But to take any talent, designer, architect, barista, factory worker, engineer and make light of what they do by asking them to participate in a contest?

Grabbing a comment from the Rick Turoczy's blog,

“To borrow a point from @Mattg (on Twitter), you don’t see the city asking for volunteers to fill in pot holes, do you? Would that be acceptable to you?”

To me? No, but then I shouldn’t speak for other’s. I’ll be quiet now. Maybe.

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don't speak...don't speak!

the mighty are roaring

And if you doubt they are mighty?

http://siliconflorist.com/2009/07/13/spec-work-portland-web-design-community-city-ur-doin-it-wrong/
I could add more but I’d be here a while!
http://blogs.popart.com/2009/07/open-letter-to-portlandonline-refresh-committee/

Once upon a time.   2002 to be exact.  I worked for a small creative staffing agency and represented several Designer’s in the community, print and web.  At this agency we tried very hard to keep people working when everything tanked after 9/11, and every marketing and design team was being cut.  
A client called asking for  “junior” web designer.  In my world that was code for, someone cheap.  So I grabbed a very talented printed designer who had web experience and told him the scenario.  Asked if he had interest.  He was.  
I submitted him with resume and credentials to the client.  They like my candidate and said that another agency had someone about $10 less an hour.  Could I match that rate.   I said no.  The client then proceeded to say, well you know the economy is down and people need work, you can’t come down on your rate?  Again, I said no.  A downturn in the economy does not make things cheaper.  I was not going to de-value the talent by lowering the rate.  Anymore than another company is going to deep discount their cars or shoes because the economy is bad.  I encouraged them to go with the other agency.  
Yes, the economy was bad, yes a lot of people needed work.  But that did not mean that all of a sudden you got things for free.  Or half price.  To retain the value of anything you have to retain the value!  
From where I sit, creatives get asked to do a lot on spec or for free.  An interesting question here;
@Mattg (on Twitter), you don’t see the city asking for volunteers to fill in pot holes, do you? Would that to be acceptable to you?
This is still brewing…I’ll be back later on this topic.  In the meantime read the links above!!
@jgx



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don't speak...don't speak!

Ok, so not a typical Friday afternoon for me.

  
Download now or listen on posterous

Memo.m4a (2248 KB)

@jgx
 
Sent from my iPhone.
Forgive spelling errors. The phone thinks it knows how to spell.

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memory?

I’m attempting to expand the length of the novel I started for National Write a Novel Month last November, The Uncurious Adventures of Knod Knowingly.  I didn’t hit the 50,000 words, but think maybe I will before I attempt to start a new one this November.  Maybe I’m crazy? Maybe it’s lazy?  I have no idea what I’ll write about this time around.  I had that Knod character in my head for a couple years when last November rolled around.  Well, there is Mowana Winkey who has been in my head longer.  I’m not 100%, but I think she might have been a monkey?  And I know as much about her as I did about Knod.  Anyway,

I’ve taken to going to Island Cafe on Hayden Island to write.  Since Knod’s story takes place on an island, my thinking is sitting on a float on the water might help.  It has, some.  But as I read back through to make sure that I’m not repeating events I come across sections that I have no memory of writing?  

Like this from page 22 & 23.

The trees around the lake were perfectly matched in height and color.  So it created an almost cover for the lake, like a wall.  It didn’t keep out any of the animals but it felt like a curtain and you could almost imaging that it was your own room or even better you very own lake.  That didn’t happen very often.  It was a popular place.  It was the smallest on the island so it didn’t attract a lot of people.

As the other boys swam and dove into the water, Knod laid back on the edge of the lake.  It was just warm enough that the sun felt good on your skin, but you didn’t get hot.  He closed his eyes and even though everyone was making noise, calling back and forth to each other, Knod nodded off.

He felt warm and light.  He could just barely hear everyone at the lake.  Their voiced echoed off in the distance and he couldn’t make out what they were saying.  He walked through a crowd of people somewhere.  He felt like he was in a place he should know but it didn’t look like anyplace he had ever been.  The women were dressed in very shiny dresses with large buttons and many color’s.  Some had feathers in their hair or hat’s on.  Some of the hats seemed as big around as the moon if you looked up at it at night.  The men had on suits and their hair was slicked back and shiny.  Their skin looked tight.  Just like his dad’s face would look right after he shaved.  They kept moving in all directions and paid no attention to Knod.  Knod seemed to be able to move around and through them without getting in the way or brushing up against anyone.  There were about a hundred conversations going on.  Or at least that’s what it seemed like.  Everyone was talking, but he couldn’t make out what anyone was saying.  He didn’t yet see anyone that he knew or even looked familiar.  Then as he made his way to the other side of the room, the people changed and the room was smaller.  There were less people and they seemed to see Knod as he walked through them.  He still didn’t see anyone he knew.  He was too shy to talk to anyone or ask who they were.  He thought maybe they would ask him who he was.  

Who were these people?  Knod remembered a lot of his dreams.  There was almost always someone in the dream that he knew.  Maybe this was where Pop was?  They did all look nice, dressed up like they were going someplace nice.  Like Pop was when he was put into the ground.  He could feel and hear himself starting to ask people if they knew Pop.  Or had they seen Pop?  No on answered.  A few people smiled nicely at him, but no one said anything.  He kept going around the room from one side to the other looking at everyone in the room.  Everyone seemed to be moving in slow motion. 

The room felt soft.  The lights that hung from the ceiling were sparkly and glowing.  Every once in a while someone would new would come into the room, but Knod couldn’t find the door.  He was watching each and every person closely so he could quickly know when someone new came into the room.  If this was where Pop was he didn’t want to miss him.  Pop wouldn’t be expecting him so he wouldn’t know to look for him. 

As he turned around to see the room behind him the room had gotten smaller and there was a new wall.  Knod thought that he was in the middle of the room, but now he was not.  And the crowd was getting smaller.  As he turned back around they also seemed even more different.  They didn’t have on the same clothes.  They didn’t seem to shine as much anymore.  They seemed to have on more practical clothes.  Nice clothes, nice enough for Sunday, but not as nice as before.

Then from way over on the other side of the room he thought he saw someone looking his way and he could hear someone saying his name, “Knod, Knod…Knod!” it got louder and louder.  He tried to make his way to the other side to see who it was.  Was it Pop?  It didn’t sound like it, but then what would Pop sound like here.  Then he realized it was Dek yelling at him to get into the water and he was awake.

Some days I feel I have a way with words.  Other’s … blah, blah, blah.  It’s more of the same.  Feel free to chime in.  I take constructive criticism well.  Although only just a few over 15,000 words, it is further than I’ve ever been.  Maybe it’s a short, not a novel?

 

@jgx

 

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creative don't speak...don't speak!

water

What is it about the water that I am so drawn to it? I don’t think probably more or less than most maybe. What is it?

I often find myself thinking how peaceful it is under the water. I love sounds, but there is nothing like the sound that is underwater. It’s suspended; it’s void and blank. There is a heavy feel to it. Yet it is calming, natural and mysterious. I think a lot about how to be on the water.
home

If it were possible to be in the water, I’d do it in a heartbeat. Not in like the “Incredible Mr Limpet” way, just in somehow.
mr. limpet

Being in or around the water you didn’t think about what was going on in your world or the world for that matter. You had to pay attention to the water and what you were doing in it. You have to pay attention, be present. You have to balance and measure your breathing.

It is total escape. It is the avoidance of everything else around you.

It wraps your body in a gentle hug of a cool touch that sometimes turned warm depending on the time of the year and how large a body of water you were in. It would allow you to float, lay back and relax. Dive and let all of the air out of your lungs to listen, listen to nothing. You do have to employee a certain amount of attention. Keeping in mind where you are, the depth and where the surface is. Because no matter how hard you try to float, you might loose your buoyancy. If below, at some point, you have to surface to breathe air.

Since moving to Portland in 1997 and realizing that you can live on the water. I think about it all the time. Some days it feels like if I don’t my life will somehow be short, or cheated of what it is suppose to be. Some days it feels like I want that more than anything.

Back in 2002 or 2003 I read an article that claimed it was water, not oil that was the major cause of war in the Middle East. I don’t have the original article that was in the NY Times. But I did find this at, leinsdorf.com I don’t know who this is, but he has a post that speaks to this very topic. And there is this post.

But I digress and this makes me very unhappy. They have taken my oasis, my retreat and made it a struggle amongst people.

Breath …. Breath

Okay, back to my original thoughts.

Water – Chinese

water
Water – Molecule
640px-water_molecule_3dsvg1
I kind’a like that! Seems kinda floaty! Thank you Wikipedia!

I think it can be said that I like water, pools, lakes, oceans and rivers. That said, my one fear is drowning. For that very reason you won’t find me white water rafting. And not every time but occasionally crossing over a bridge I think about what I would do on the way down if the bridge collapsed in an effort to not drown? If I survived the impact should I leave the windows up or open them? I’m sure I can find that online.

I grew up in Missouri. The largest body of water was a lake. Two actually. Both about 20 minutes away. I now live in Portland. I cross the Willamette River almost every day. I can sit at Island Café and the water is inches below me. I can sit at my friend Mel’s and look down on the river. If I head west on 26, I’m 84.2 miles from the Pacific Ocean.

I don’t drive that 84.2 miles as often as I would like. But I know it’s there, it’s a pretty quick drive. After I saw the ocean for the first time when I was 16, I think from that point that water would have a different meaning for me. I think it made me a bit restless and tentative. I think back now an realize that I drove by or around those two lakes in Missouri more than I thought to be near water.

There is something solitary about it. I’m not saying that I’m seeking solitude. I am fine with it, if it’s on the water.

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don't speak...don't speak!

gonna sell the house and move here

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creative don't speak...don't speak!

working on a new resume

What do you think about this?

resume cloud

Too short? Not specific enough? Ok, what about this?

me20v22009

(disclaimer: just finished second version, checking for errors)

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creative don't speak...don't speak!

Knod who?

Several years ago in my crazy head popped, Knod Knowingly and the Land of Neverbodies. Yeah, that was it. What am I going to do with that? Like everything else, sit on it for several years and talk about writing the story of Knod Knowingly.

Last November a couple of friends signed up for National Write a Novel Month. You attempt to write a novel of 50,000 words in 30 days. I was unemployed, had TONS of time, when would be a better time? Well as confessed to in an earlier post on my blog, I was about 40,000 words short. But it was further than I’ve ever gotten before. And about 5,000 more words that my two friends who said yeah, join us it will be great! We can get together and have writing nights! (insert cricket sound here) I love ya anyway!!

I was a little disappointed that I didn’t stick to the plan of 1,666 words a day. But I think that I have, as one friend said, a good framework for the story.

And on the Science Channel this week I heard something that may have given me the extra element that I was looking for. Only it isn’t going to be what you might think as you read through the some excerpts to set the scene. I’m hoping with this post that I can get back on track with this new information and hit that 50,000 words before this November (sooner I hope), so that I can start fresh this year.

“Knod Knowingly was the first grandchild of his Father’s parents. This afforded him some luxuries that later in life he would think weren’t worth their emotional weight.

Knod was born on the 27th day of November 1900, in the smallest of the three hospitals near the coast. He was named after his Uncle Knute who had narcolepsy. Knod’s family lived life a bit on the whimsical side. In the 1788 (give or take) when his ancestor’s boarded a small boat with about a100 other’s for the United States, their excitement about the possibilities were in check. They were realistic to what their fate might be. Sameness in a new land or true position and purpose in a place they make their own. On their way to the United States in the boat they were on got just a bit off course. They found themselves, as the sun rose one morning heading right for what looked like a small island. It came into view in time to stop before there was any damage to the boat, but not soon enough to stop if from grounding.”

When I decided to have the Knowingly’s be on an island I went to Google in search of just that. The idea is that Knod’s Great-great-grandparents, with several other families board a boat for America in the late 1700’s to early 1800’s. A storm throws them off course and the boat is grounded on an island. It’s not the “perfect storm”, just one bad enough to throw them off course in the night.

Google maps, Ireland then zoom out. See those dots near the bottom toward the right side of the box? Just west of Portugal. Flores Island. What they soon realized was that they could build shelter and homes faster than getting the boat sea worthy again.

Flores

The Island of Flores was discovered in 1450 by Diogo de Teive and his son Joao de Teive. But since this is my story, this group of people discovered it by accident and grounding. They scoured the island while hoping for rescue and found no human live. A few of the men after their expedition around the small island to look for life or help, they returned to the site of the wreck to begin repair on the boat. It was a beautiful island so repairing the boat was a slow process. Not just because it was beautiful sunny and tropical. In order to repair the boat, tree’s and to be cut and planed, etc. And this took time. It was decided since they were the first and no body had ever lived here they named the island Neverbody.

What they didn’t know, because it was deep in the heart of the island, that there was human life.

Now this, for me is a recent development because of that Science Channel show. On the isle of Flores The Mystery of the Human Hobbit, It was the most striking scientific discovery of last year. An entirely new species of mini-human found on an island in Indonesia. Is the hobbit a new species that transforms our view of evolution, or is it simply a very small, modern human being?

Yeah, no I’m not trying to channel Tolkien. Maybe I should read Tolkien so that I don’t cross hairs, mix stories or mythology? I did see some of the movie. So I am most certainly doomed to some similarities. All the more reason to read Tolkien so I can be ever so careful to stay away from it! Damn!

The idea of hobbits is very appealing in a weird way. Not for what they represent, but for another layer in the story. What is driving me is the relationship that Knod has with his family, in particular his Great-Grandmother and how he continues to question and explore, but never really find answers.

I had some friends read it back in December. Thank you! I don’t think they were just being nice? So it gave me a boost to continue. But how…? I don’t know if I add more to the middle or keep going moving forward? Well I guess I have that hobbit think now that can sort of fill in the middle? I certainly have more time to write now that I’m not a slave to Twitter and Facebook! Crazy things!! 139 hours and counting. I might login tomorrow and see what’s up. It’s been a week.

Here’s another excerpt to share.
excerpt; the uncurious adventures of knod knowingly ©

Creative Commons License
The Uncurious Adventures of Knod Knowingly by Jennifer M. Green is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.

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jgx’s posterous – What to do, what to do?


jgx’s posterous – What to do, what to do?

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creative don't speak...don't speak!

A Good Way to Change a Corporate Culture – Peter Bregman – HarvardBusiness.org

A Good Way to Change a Corporate Culture – Peter Bregman – HarvardBusiness.org

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