Category: Whom
Cherry
She lost him. She stopped as soon as she could to catch her breath. The platform was empty, save for one man, standing by himself wearing a low, soft felt hat with a curled brim and the crown creased lengthwise. He looked at her. Cheater. Quickly, she darted her eyes toward the staircase. She half expected him to come up, but he didn’t.
Instead he played chess and she was alone at last. Cherry slid down onto the cold, non-foliated metamorphic rock commonly used for sculpture and as a building material. Her hand searched for a mushy, ham and cheese sandwich. Eat? The odd man turned and walked toward her using a device consisting of a circular canopy of cloth on a folding metal frame supported by a metal rod. It was his first. She didn’t understand the significance of the red and white peppermint patty stripes though. A big chunk of sandwich wedged in her throat.
There is no resting place in Paradise, Chona. Just the constant chase of Dreams and Toys. Whatever then. I don’t need the job anyway. They need themselves and that will never change. I reached into the fridge, the bright neon light glaring in my face. What’s it going to be tonight? 3% milk bought one week ago, or taro cream buns from yesterday? Her black, acid wash cut-offs were riding up her legs, a product of skipping two workouts over the weekend he supposed. Cherry didn’t want any of it. She slammed the fridge door for Each Other and climbed onto the kitchen island marble.
Boom, boom, boom.
Silence filled the entire apartment.
Dang it, he’s here.
She didn’t even have time to prepare.
Some empty containers of Nanö fell onto the floor. Cherry didn’t wait. Nothing. Then, suddenly again –
Boom-boom-boom-boom-boom!
She didn’t have time to leave.
Outside the window, the landscape was lavender purple.
The air inside her apartment was as cold as stone.
Cherry remembered the Toys in her closet. There was probably enough in there to pay him off. Jared didn’t take cheap toys as a barter. He was looking for some form of permanent reimbursement. She wanted to try to run away. Running to her room, she pulled her closet doors open and found him. A retro blue Ty bear stuffie, sewn together with black thread. His beady eyes were made of wind-blown agate, a mystical find these days in Chon.
Wasn’t it ridiculous to think gems held power these days? Jared was specifically looking to enhance his perception and analytical abilities. The agate eyes on Cherry’s Toy could heal the anger inside and create a sense of security and blankets, much needed bling required at Life Space.
“Cherry!!!” Jared started, “Open the frigging door! NOW!” She grabbed Blueberry, stuffing it into her shirt, which had a hidden metric built-in. The bear quickly disappeared and she yanked the entranceway agape.
“Where is it?!?” Jared stumbled inside, her apartment was already in shreds. Cherry had old jars of Dream everywhere. But they were empty too. Users. “How fast can you put together a cheat sheet?” Jared stopped and looked at Cherry. They both began to laugh hysterically. She blinked her eyes. One by one, the jars started to break up into small parts, a result of impact and decay. She checked out the window. The purple haze was gone and replaced with a mauve checkerboard.
In the next moment memory, everything sat still and Jared was suddenly a statue, his eyes staring blankly at Cherry’s gaze. It was only going to last another 30 minutes, she thought. She moved taking a short time – the journey was going to be fast and furious. She ran back to her window and stuck her head outside. It was wet and sticky and humid. Further out she could see the retro blue Ty melding into life. Tiny pink flecks, stars, were also starting to become actual fact.
That was on her right brain. Her left was angry, used and taken for granted. She didn’t know how to fix him. It was probably going to be impossible. So why not just skip living and buy some cigarettes?
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9 – Coming Down
I’m so tired, Daisy thought. You’re always tired, retorted Cherry. She was just sitting there, twiddling her thumbs, looking at her green shoes. She turned her head right, was there something there? She suddenly felt uncomfortable. Someone was watching them. They didn’t know who.
It’s time to pack, dear. The routine was the same every June. Alice from Wonderland would arrive to take Daisy home. Daisy couldn’t do it without help. It was a sad time for her. She was remembering the death of her mom, those last few cigarettes she had outside with her dad, in the snow. She was really angry Being because of Ben. He ruined her life, led her astray. She was an addict when she was with him.
Forget thinking about it, darling. Alice stroked Cherry’s hair, handing her a cheese and ham biscuit. This is ridiculous. I’m practically choking on this bread, it’s getting lodged in my throat! I can’t take it anymore! By then, their tears were flowing, ruining everything including a pink dress and a gigantic muumuu.
All of the pupils present today were busy writing down their answers. Not me. I’m just going to sit it. Read his brain. Oh shit, he’s looking. The girls looked away, frantically grabbing their miniature Navajo backpacks, matching, gifts from the Philippines and their Auntie Stella.
Daisy? Can you contribute something to this discussion we’re having? Her teacher was frustrated, but tried his best to be kind and patient. Daisy twitched her mouth. No, I don’t think I can. They could feel every single eye in the room blink. Then, 999,999 heads turned to look at her. What were they expecting? She wasn’t going to put on a show. And especially not in this muumuu. Do you have anything to say, young miss? Neither had enough bitcoins to argue. Clearing her throat, Miss Daisy stood up. Cherry budged in front, knocking her sister to the floor. I bought these with my own cash! Dreams, actually. It was Toys clearly. Can any one of you in the room debate that? We highly think naught. And with haste, they flipped their skirts and left the room.
Flying through the wind, Cherry grabbed her big sister’s hand. They were going to be just fine.
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5 Influential Marketing Personalities
Hi everyone! Without further ado…
We crowdsource (ideas). It’s our membership and contribution to the digital landscape. Wikipedia says –
Crowdsourcing is a sourcing model in which individuals or organizations obtain goods and services, including ideas and finances, from a large, relatively open and often rapidly-evolving group of internet users; it divides work between participants to achieve a cumulative result. The word crowdsourcing itself is a portmanteau of crowd and outsourcing, and was coined in 2005.[1][2][3][4] As a mode of sourcing, crowdsourcing existed prior to the digital age (i.e. “offline“).[5]
Crowdsourcing is a great way to develop content and topics for your target audience. I put together a listicle based on a few influential marketing personalities I admire. In my opinion, they provide some answers (to my design life) and a unique perspective. I hope they can help you in any way, shape or form.
Also, here they are in a creative digital collage. Does it make you crave mangoes or money?
1
Chris Do, Matthew Encina & the team at Blind
It started with advice from my brother. He goes, check out the vlog by The Futur. This happened right when I started at VanWhistle Media. I was looking for a way to feel inspired. These guys helped me identify high-end pricing techniques and I designed my website portfolio around a couple of videos they put out with creative director of Vrontikis Design Office, Petrula Vrontikis. I’m drawn to these guys for simple reasons – energy and passion.
2
It started with an interview. Chris Do and Seth Godin, together, hashing out topics like, What is school for? Watch it on YouTube – Seth Godin—Make Something Everyday (Best Hour You’ll Spend Today). This was the first time I felt inspired to write continuously and I tried out (half of) his challenge by posting 50 blog posts, once a day. I didn’t quite make it to 50, but the point of the matter is, I identified with Godin’s creative process. He also coined the phrase Make Change Happen, a slogan I adopted for my artistic identity BLOX.
3
Just a straight-up, no fluff business guy, I follow Barney Cohen on Instagram. I can’t remember how our paths crossed, but he offers a refreshing, business-minded approach to life’s common obstacles. Coming from a corporate background, I identify with his mentality, clear reasoning and straightforward delivery. He has 50 years of experience in business, so his acumen is spot-on. You can check him out on Twitter as well.
4
Shoot, I almost forgot! Neil is probably the most humourous, dramatic, yet to-the-point marketing entrepreneur I have come across to date. He helps me understand the importance of brand development and every time I come across his feed, I’m pretty sure we’re thinking the same thing. Quid pro quo at it’s finest, Neil can help you develop metrics that work and he will provide all the necessary reasonings behind it. On top of everything, he’s an excellent copywriter.
5
To think mainstream is to truly understand the relationship between popularity and accessibility. The Rock shows us that fame can be your next door neighbour, unpretentious and welcoming. In the pursuit of greatness, his face and voice puts a sticker on my blank page. Everyone loves stickers. Not everything has to be complicated. Sometimes you are just a do-gooder with a gigantic heart. The Rock shares these emotions with me and his 154M followers.
What do you admire? Who inspires you to do better? Whether it be music or satirical retorts, we have something in common!
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Katie
She loved the red glitter on her eyes. It was so thick and opaque. Looking into the mirror, she had to tippy-toe onto her Dr. Martens to see the details. It gave her a buzz – the satisfaction of seeing colour on her face. Kate patted down her hair, trying to ignore the grays.
There was a lot now. They came in from nowhere. Probably due to stress. Her mom-in-law. Lack of inspiration or something like that. Katie inhaled a deep breath while admiring herself. One more time, she thought. And then, she turned to exit the restroom.
Her dress was red too. Strolling through the children’s department, Katie saw something green. It was fabulous! Hyper-fantastic and surreal. She had to run towards it. A supreme, three-piece, pastel green, polyester suit. It was a suit of dreams.
Flared pants, minuscule vest, oddly-sized plastic buttons, and a blazer. The blazer. The lapels and the boning. That feeling she got when fresh clothes actually existed was drugs. Not street drugs, but visceral happiness-coated candy love.
Lime green market baskets. Apple-scented Jolly Ranchers. That sort of thing. Why in the world would you even need drugs, if you could find clothes like these? She didn’t know. It blew her mind. As she took the leisure suit to the till to pay, she was anxious, but she still smiled.
She opened her Celine wallet, removing the VISA card – personal purchase – she thought. I’m gonna make this work! Smiling and not evaluating an inch of the sales associate’s grin, Katie took the handles of her JC Penney bag and walked out. Into the world.
***The stores that have given me a sense of fashionable purpose growing up were JC Penney, Fairweather, Smart Set, Dalmys, Le Château, Mariposa, Jacobs, Westbeach, Au Coton, Aritzia, Nike, Winners, Eaton’s and Hudson’s Bay. Most have come and gone. Based on this subset, the champions have focused on a specified niche market, continual dedication through brand evolution and reduced pricing.
CONCLUSION
Time changes everything. How do we keep up (trend)? Stay relevant (worth)? Do you remember your favorite stores and brands? Are they still around? Have they become more or less ubiquitous over time? Why are the champions still in ‘power’ and how do you think they got there?
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A Blox Manifesto
Hi everyone! I present this creative manifesto to portray myself, art director. It is theoretical and abstract. Have a read and please share your comments!
My odd discoveries are niched between innovation and the mainstream. For instance, if you have to think with a reason, you will create a chain reaction. You can force it, think it or enable it. It comes from within, like the mass of a tornado picking up speed or fear that the same wind will blow you off a bridge. So, how can we make these constant discoveries without becoming lost? As it always was, record your ideas and when I return, if it does not make sense, then time has passed. Take note that the world needs new things – disconnection from belonging, then suddenly, an objective and rational zen. We can’t automate knowledge, no matter what the group thinks; we can’t copy, steal or pretend. Because those with the ability can argue that it cannot be contained. Try to study da Vinci. Can you reproduce his 19 notebooks that included studies of the human circulatory system and plans for aircrafts and submarines? Our renaissance involves top channels urging the resistance to stop cowering behind boring practices and facades of knowledge or the world will never know the peace of language, nor the nature of our true digital environment. I will be here to plug it all together, make sense of it all, then present my findings with one goal – to substantiate a realistic definition and record of our Digital Presence. You will be listening through the air and the speed by which you can travel will be determined by creativity, activity and selflessness. You can make it in seconds. It also takes decades, in fact thousands and thousands of years in time and space. Topics pertaining to analytics, insight and AI. Cures for psychosomatic disease, body dysmorphia, cancer. Working our thinking capabilities. Our capacity to believe. Our ability to organize and refocus thought. Updating medicine. Explaining mental illness. Change in everything, even radio. Our everyday landscape will keep the same weather; we will occupy the same ability to choose, the same emotions and relationships. It can all be achieved, simultaneously. I will be the one to write about it; every inch and element – watch!
Stay tuned if you’re hardcore enough!
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Start
Hi everyone! This is a story about taking naps. What would you do if you could start your nap over again?
Day by day, she fought to stay awake. At night, facing the wall, she could see her breath come back, stirring her into place. Her gaze could only see an odd, black shadow.
The plague.
Napping feverishly on an ex-boyfriend’s mattress, my breath came to me, rousing my face. There was no odd black shadow, only the installation piece (University of Calgary, Faculty of Art, 2001) I completed about a red cross and red intersecting paint brushes. Over time, the red morphed into a black matte surface, replacing the glowing red symbols with something different…
The sound.
I gasped for air, clutching my heart staring into Kevin’s barren closet. I saw myself as a ‘doctor’, healing the world from every known pain of mankind. In that moment, my heart sung and I cried. I felt adorned, yet I was confused as to how this could have happened. How could this be a reality that I, Chona Fe, changed the world? Healed it, in fact. How could I be the charging force that put everything into place?
The only other time this happened, I was napping, this time at my aunt’s house in one of the empty rooms. (Note: Filipino homes always have empty rooms; they’re probably accommodating ghosts.) All of the 90s furniture, including a stark, reflective black master’s bedroom set, had no meaning or design in that place. That place where I slumbered and was suddenly awoken again. I think I was 13, sitting up abruptly on the right side of the bed, staring at myself. Yelling. Screaming at the top of my lungs.
Stop!
I wasn’t looking at a reflection of ours.
The reflection.
My brother (Alan Abad) and cousins (Ryan and Vanessa Skinner), ran home from the playground in the centre of the crescent (71 Maryvale Cr. N.E., Calgary, AB). They heard me scream. They were horrified to think something horrible had happened. But nothing did. I was alive. I wasn’t attacked or eaten by monsters. Vanessa grabbed my shoulders, shaking vigorously and I blinked slowly three times, “What. The. I…don’t know what just happened, but I think…I died and saw…a different person…in…” I couldn’t even continue. It was that bad.
Scared?
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5 – The Train Ride
I had a semi heart attack when I realized I left my computer at work. Daisy folded her legs out of bed, throwing her white duvet toward her pillows in an act of defiance or something like that. For some reason, she could feel her forehead wrinkle as she quickly discerned, “Oh, just wonderful. I’m angry again.” She walked towards earth, sashaying in a banana yellow-toned gold.
Comma.
She entered. Now, walking criss-crossed down the tree-lined, brick-rung park pathway, she hated this part. She knew they tried to conceal the portal at the ‘end’ of the line, but you could always see it. The air around it was crinkly and wet. It was also technologically Prussian, giving off data to Whom (a.k.a. Google Analytics). They were still around, you know. In any case, she supposed most disconcerted artists would notice it.
Daisy proclaimed with both arms outstretched toward the new entrant, “Hop right in!” She was stretching really. He didn’t notice it. He was a mediocre-sized weasel carrying ‘today’s’ paper and sporting a rather smart trilby hat appropriately coloured rat. Hmm, I wonder if he’s just come in from the races? Daisy adjusted herself, pulling her navy blue rayon skirt down her legs.
Filburt squinted quintessentially. She has to think I’m coming here from the 50s, otherwise this proposition just won’t work. “Ahem!” Daisy stopped daydreaming of moment memories. She was playing with the ‘quaint daisy design’, imagining days of lorn, when she was just a wee little cartoon.
“Yes?”, “What is your girth? And are you in a state of dominant Manipura?”
She didn’t even bother to reply. What a stupid statement. Of course she was. She always was. Especially in Free state. Daisy curtly ruffled her shiny snakeskin BCBG and answered him, “I am now going to roll my eyes and you are going to walk that way, in this direction.” Filburt trembled like a dandelion in new spring wind and promptly – disappeared. Goddamnit! Skirt?! Stomach?! For Christ’s sake!
I don’t have time for this patience. The Need paused. This is not something new. The Pause crossed long, lanky arms and turned his eyeballs in reverse. Training never ended, Daisy hated it. She had been through it a million and ten times. She was even beginning to seem like him. The father of all wrongdoing. Addictions created them. Where found them. Elevententeen was their only solace.
Please come, spring.
Blox. is a Creative & Technical Marketer 