"I'm not creative", is probably the most common phrase you'll hear in the design industry.
A lot of clients say it.
So, they don't get up on a Saturday morning with ideas on how to entertain the kids that day - the kids that they didn't create. They don't cook meals that require care and timing. They don't turn up the radio in the car, put their foot down a little more and imagine they're starring in a movie or ad. They don't doodle while they're on the phone. They don't get dressed - or even choose a new tie. They don't book holidays or look forward to Christmas morning or imagine playing at Wembley. They don't decorate their homes, plant roses by the gate or buy gifts for birthdays. Of course, they do.
No one has yet been born that has no creativity in their soul. And a good designer will work with their client's innate creativity -no matter how latent - to reveal answers they can both love.
Thursday, 3 November 2011
Wednesday, 2 November 2011
Jane Moore Page Highlights
Blah blah....family is backbone.....blah blah...hardworking mums....blah blah....the bloke....blah blah.......kids need tough love..... blah blah...common sense....blah blah....housework juggling....blah blah...single parents.....blah blah....lived in a cupboard....blah blah...botox....blah blah....real world....blah blah....benefits scroungers....blah blah....ad nauseum
Wednesday, 15 June 2011
Dosh Stone Kidnap
Headline: £9 Million Joss Stone in Kidnap Shocker
The real shock is how the Deep South Devon dipstick amassed nine million quid. Friends in high places? (pun intended).
The real shock is how the Deep South Devon dipstick amassed nine million quid. Friends in high places? (pun intended).
Friday, 10 June 2011
Does no one else change their mind?
I find today's imperative to blog, post, comment, cast and have an opinion about absolutely everything wearying at least and stressful at worst. It seems that not an event can go by in the news or a view expressed in the media without their being a requirement to add something intelligent and forthright to the debate.
I have a problem with this (as no doubt regular readers of this blog have discovered).
Firstly, I'm aware that I have little original intelligence with which to add anything of value to the debate.
But more pertinently, I tend to change my mind a lot.
Today, I might think Ryan Giggs is an odious little man for cheating on his missus. Tomorrow I might reconsider - you can't really blame him because she does look like she could start a fight in a one man tent.
Today, I might think Rowan William has a point because no one voted for the coalition. Therefore they don't have a mandate to impose loads of draconian legislation. Tomorrow, I might think he's a weirdy god-botherer in a gold lame dress whose never done a proper day's work in his life and doesn't really have any right to pontificate on what the rest of us hard working tax payers should expect from our government.
Today, I might think man bags are a good thing.
Tomorrow, I might not.
And there's the nub. I'm inconsistent. If I blog an opinion today might have changed it completely by tomorrow. I'm transitory, open-minded, non-partisan, lily livered, flexible, uncommitted and vague.
But what concerns me more is the thought that everyone else on the internet is so sure of their opinions that no matter what new evidence comes to light they will never change their stand point. I'd love to have that kind of confidence. But surely the ability to adapt to our conditions is what sets us apart from the animals - and politicians. Or maybe I'm wrong.
So, who'd like to join me in creating a Society for the Undecided? A vehicle for those who not only pull their punches but aren't really sure about the 'whole punchy/throwy thing anyway' to meet and celebrate our indifference. A place where we can have tepid debates - well not even debates really - more sort of friendly discussions - about the major issues of the day and how hesitant we are about them. Good idea?...Yes?...No?...I'll put you down as a maybe, then.
I have a problem with this (as no doubt regular readers of this blog have discovered).
Firstly, I'm aware that I have little original intelligence with which to add anything of value to the debate.
But more pertinently, I tend to change my mind a lot.
Today, I might think Ryan Giggs is an odious little man for cheating on his missus. Tomorrow I might reconsider - you can't really blame him because she does look like she could start a fight in a one man tent.
Today, I might think Rowan William has a point because no one voted for the coalition. Therefore they don't have a mandate to impose loads of draconian legislation. Tomorrow, I might think he's a weirdy god-botherer in a gold lame dress whose never done a proper day's work in his life and doesn't really have any right to pontificate on what the rest of us hard working tax payers should expect from our government.
Today, I might think man bags are a good thing.
Tomorrow, I might not.
And there's the nub. I'm inconsistent. If I blog an opinion today might have changed it completely by tomorrow. I'm transitory, open-minded, non-partisan, lily livered, flexible, uncommitted and vague.
But what concerns me more is the thought that everyone else on the internet is so sure of their opinions that no matter what new evidence comes to light they will never change their stand point. I'd love to have that kind of confidence. But surely the ability to adapt to our conditions is what sets us apart from the animals - and politicians. Or maybe I'm wrong.
So, who'd like to join me in creating a Society for the Undecided? A vehicle for those who not only pull their punches but aren't really sure about the 'whole punchy/throwy thing anyway' to meet and celebrate our indifference. A place where we can have tepid debates - well not even debates really - more sort of friendly discussions - about the major issues of the day and how hesitant we are about them. Good idea?...Yes?...No?...I'll put you down as a maybe, then.
Thursday, 12 May 2011
Pippa Middleton and David Beckham. Breaking a few more super injunctions
Apologies to all my eight followers on the recent lack of blogs - pressure of work and all that you know.
Anyway, following the revelations regarding Jemima Khan and Jeremy Clarkson, I though now would be an apposite time to publish some of my own super injunction busting scoops...
First, there's the ongoing triste between fame obsessed space cadet Peaches Geldoff and wheelie based boffin Professor Stephen Hawking. They've managed to keep it a secret for months put were last week photographed kissing behind the bins at Currys. Then there's hirsute Welsh football drone Robbie Savage and his on/off affair with chinny American actress spinster Jennifer Anniston. They met on the set of her last rom-com disaster where Robbie was auditioning for the part of '2nd pampered Afghan Hound' and, allegedly, haven't been able to keep their hands off each other since.
Next we have the secret relationship between green fingered talk show dross-smith Alan Titchmarsh and scrawny pop has-been Madonna who likes him to pop around at least once a week to 'prune her bigonias'. Then there's a rash of lesser known torrid clinches that have evaded the British press: Erudite twitterer Stephen Fry and OWIE airhead Amy Childes, Brummy misery Adrian Chiles and Bumptious pop starlet Beyonce Knowles, 70's Spurs goal machine Cyril Knowles and Porcine temptress Peppa Pig...I could go on. But I'm bored with making up unlikely couplings now. Still if you've got some you'd like to add, please comment. It's all good for the search engines.
Anyway, following the revelations regarding Jemima Khan and Jeremy Clarkson, I though now would be an apposite time to publish some of my own super injunction busting scoops...
First, there's the ongoing triste between fame obsessed space cadet Peaches Geldoff and wheelie based boffin Professor Stephen Hawking. They've managed to keep it a secret for months put were last week photographed kissing behind the bins at Currys. Then there's hirsute Welsh football drone Robbie Savage and his on/off affair with chinny American actress spinster Jennifer Anniston. They met on the set of her last rom-com disaster where Robbie was auditioning for the part of '2nd pampered Afghan Hound' and, allegedly, haven't been able to keep their hands off each other since.
Next we have the secret relationship between green fingered talk show dross-smith Alan Titchmarsh and scrawny pop has-been Madonna who likes him to pop around at least once a week to 'prune her bigonias'. Then there's a rash of lesser known torrid clinches that have evaded the British press: Erudite twitterer Stephen Fry and OWIE airhead Amy Childes, Brummy misery Adrian Chiles and Bumptious pop starlet Beyonce Knowles, 70's Spurs goal machine Cyril Knowles and Porcine temptress Peppa Pig...I could go on. But I'm bored with making up unlikely couplings now. Still if you've got some you'd like to add, please comment. It's all good for the search engines.
Friday, 15 April 2011
The Surbiton Surveyors' Centre Parcs Super Dry Epidemic
Elveden Centre Parcs. April 2011...
The infection started in the sports hall and soon spread to the restaurants and bars. Initially we just noticed the odd isolated case but before long it was obvious whole families had succumbed. The disease seemed to be more prevalent in the young but it quickly became apparent that no one was safe. Slightly trendy chartered accountants, 'still with it' fleet managers, 'down with the kids' dads and middle-class miwlf mums were all showing the signs.
The Super Dry epidemic was unstoppable.
Everywhere we turned, children, teenagers and old enough to know better parents could be seen displaying the symptoms. In the children it wasn't so tragic. The oversized, over worn check shirts were almost cute, the strange garage signage and references to Tokyo had a playfulness that made the underlying sickness bearable, But in the adults, the infection was hideous to behold. The washed out grey pigmentation, frayed seams and pink stripes all pointed to the unmistakable truth that their brains had been infected by virulent 'branding' and a collective 'lack of imagination. The fact that this was costing them an arm and a leg was secondary to the underlying sadness that whatever celebrities wore three years ago, the middle classes will wear today. And that's the real sadness. An abundance of money coupled with a lack of ideas will always mark them as followers - the cannon fodder of the manipulative marketing department.
However, as with the FCUK pandemic of a decade ago this will also soon pass. In fact the signs of a new and more powerful logo madness are already taking hold. People are already showing the initial symptoms of the ubiquitous Hollister strain. Give it a couple of years...
The infection started in the sports hall and soon spread to the restaurants and bars. Initially we just noticed the odd isolated case but before long it was obvious whole families had succumbed. The disease seemed to be more prevalent in the young but it quickly became apparent that no one was safe. Slightly trendy chartered accountants, 'still with it' fleet managers, 'down with the kids' dads and middle-class miwlf mums were all showing the signs.
The Super Dry epidemic was unstoppable.
Everywhere we turned, children, teenagers and old enough to know better parents could be seen displaying the symptoms. In the children it wasn't so tragic. The oversized, over worn check shirts were almost cute, the strange garage signage and references to Tokyo had a playfulness that made the underlying sickness bearable, But in the adults, the infection was hideous to behold. The washed out grey pigmentation, frayed seams and pink stripes all pointed to the unmistakable truth that their brains had been infected by virulent 'branding' and a collective 'lack of imagination. The fact that this was costing them an arm and a leg was secondary to the underlying sadness that whatever celebrities wore three years ago, the middle classes will wear today. And that's the real sadness. An abundance of money coupled with a lack of ideas will always mark them as followers - the cannon fodder of the manipulative marketing department.
However, as with the FCUK pandemic of a decade ago this will also soon pass. In fact the signs of a new and more powerful logo madness are already taking hold. People are already showing the initial symptoms of the ubiquitous Hollister strain. Give it a couple of years...
Friday, 8 April 2011
Hugh Grant: Actor, Charmer, Town Planner...
Thanks to Hugh Grant for pointing out the obvious in this week's Dover Express. Hugh described The Gateway on the seafront as, "that monstrous council block casting its shadow over the town and blocking the sea view". He went on to add, "most towns have bypasses, Dover has built a road to have lorries thundering through the middle. It must be the worst piece of town planning I have ever seen... you can drive right through Dover without knowing there is actually quite a nice beach the other side."
The disconnect between Dover and its sea front has always been a major drawback to any development or investment plans, and the fact that The Gateway further separates the town from its greatest asset is testament to a series of appalling planning decisions made by successive Dover Town Councils. Not just over decades - but through the centuries.
Why could the dual carriage way not have been sent underground to allow residents unfettered access to their beach? Why was it considered a brilliant idea in the 50's to build a block of 'luxury' flats that looked out of date the moment they were completed? This was just abject greed by the Council, looking to grab development money by flogging-off something that didn't belong to them - namely the stunning views of the channel. No doubt the people who made these decisions are all forgotten in their graves by now - but their legacy of stupidity lingers on.
So, I'm with Hugh. Let's bulldoze The Gateway... and while we've got the earth movers out, let's knock down Burlington House at the same time.
The disconnect between Dover and its sea front has always been a major drawback to any development or investment plans, and the fact that The Gateway further separates the town from its greatest asset is testament to a series of appalling planning decisions made by successive Dover Town Councils. Not just over decades - but through the centuries.
Why could the dual carriage way not have been sent underground to allow residents unfettered access to their beach? Why was it considered a brilliant idea in the 50's to build a block of 'luxury' flats that looked out of date the moment they were completed? This was just abject greed by the Council, looking to grab development money by flogging-off something that didn't belong to them - namely the stunning views of the channel. No doubt the people who made these decisions are all forgotten in their graves by now - but their legacy of stupidity lingers on.
So, I'm with Hugh. Let's bulldoze The Gateway... and while we've got the earth movers out, let's knock down Burlington House at the same time.
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