Saturday, June 4, 2011

Wind

I love this print ad. It comes from Saatchi & Saatchi Manila. The rest of the campaign is equally stunning.



The relationship between the Vespa and its owner is a powerful insight. This copy is well crafted to capture that relationship, and the execution is beautifully simple.

I think there is a stereotype of advertising people being commercial sell-outs, liars, and just out to make a corporate profit from consumerism.

I don't love advertising because I want to manipulate the public. I love it because I want to use my creative abilities to reach people. I want to solve problems in ways that have never been done before. Ideas are infinite- which is both terrifying and empowering.

It's ads like these that inspire me and remind me why I want to be a copywriter.

Thursday, June 2, 2011

Public Transportation

I live in Utah. When I go someplace, I walk or I drive, or if I'm lucky I get a ride on the back of motorcycle. But we don't have trains. One of my favorite parts of studying abroad last summer was the trains and the people on them.

After an amazing day in Edinburgh, Scotland our group headed back to York. The only table open on the train was already occupied by an older, tired-looking man. Still on our adventure high, we filled the three empty spots and continued our funny conversation without inhibitions. The man was quiet until his curiosity got the best of him. His name was Richard, and right away he became our new best friend. We introduced him to our opposite game. As in, what do you like better— salt or pepper, spiders or flowers, rainbow unicorns or plain unicorns with just a tiny heart on their butt? The more ridiculous the question, the better. Richard was clearly starved for a laugh. The poor man laughed himself to tears.

We asked him things that left him pondering into space. What’s the worst thing you’ve ever eaten? What’s the best thing you’ve ever done in life? We talked about his family, his civil engineering job, travel, foreign languages, schools, everything. He called himself “your typical reserved Englishman,” and he must have felt strange opening up to three American girls, but he embraced it.
He even threw the jokes back at us. I told him I wanted to get a motorcycle. He said, "You?! You know you have to have a lot of concentration for that?"
We convinced him to try fry sauce (mayo mixed with ketchup) on his chips when he got home, which sounded revolting to him. In return we had to return to the States pronouncing words correctly, like "hygEEnic" and "pEEdophile."

I asked him if he could wake up anywhere, anytime, where it would be. He said, “At home.” His job takes him away from home lots and that night he was going home for the first time in three weeks. Of the hours of laughter and nonsense humor we shared with Richard, that answer struck me more than anything.

When our stop came 3+ hours later we stood on the platform, waving to Richard, watching him laugh and shake his head as the train wheeled out. And I realized something. There are people that I will only cross paths with one time. And all too often, I sit by a stranger without even a glance in their direction. Moments of laughter and friendship are everywhere, you just have to open your mouth to find them.