The Lazy Designer

I have to stop being a lazy designer. I drafted the following three paragraphs before this one, and just as I was about to conclude the blog entry, I realized: damn, I don't think it's that I can't be a good self-editor (although to an extent, it is true)—I just need to stop being lazy. A lazy designer. That almost seems like an oxymoron. I mean, design is all about details. How can I expect to compete, innovate, and land that all important high-paying technical job without effective effort and energy? It's not like design doesn't rouse me, so I need to bury the laziness once and for all. And after all, I'm getting a Master's degree—this isn't the Art Institute and I'm not just going for a design certificate. It's all about hard work and push myself out of my comfort zone.

So back to the original starting point of this blog:

I love editing...that is, editing other people's work. I guess it's my critical, overanalytical, perceptive nature at play. Sometimes those qualities are bad, like when something doesn't go perfectly at work or in a relationship. Other times, it's for good, like reviewing and critiquing someone's work, whether it's writing or design—especially if it's writing or design. When the good times roll, I make a fierce "wordsmither," grammarian, and type expert. When the bad times roll, I can be hard on myself and others...

I've never been a good self-editor, though. I mean, I'm sure at some, or many, points of our careers, we've said to ourselves and to each other these buzz words: fresh eyes, a second pair of eyes, triple-check, and so on. I say those words ALL the time because, as nitpicky as I can be able other people's work, I can't always see my own stuff. And so what ends up happening is that I get frustrated with trying to correct my own work such that the editing process tends to feel like an afterthought—a quick thing I do before I hit print.

Words & Images, and particularly this classification assignment, challenges me to ressurrect, or construct, that self-editor. Granted, in the beginning of the course, I had to force myself into phase four. When editing feels like an obligatory afterthought, having to revisit and revise feels like torture. That's the "old" me. I realized an hour ago that I, willingly and without force, stayed up all Wednesday night to tweak my classification piece, despite being happy with my original draft, and continuing work as even my work e-mail notification harasses, taunts, and begs for attention. And now comparing the two drafts and I'm saying "WOW!" I get it now.


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I see you bubbling all over the place -- you're yeasty, and I think it's grand!

Turns Out 1000 Words Feels Just Fine

Finished my writing for the Classification and I feel good about it. I came up at 914 words, or something like that. Thanks to Casey for using the magic editing wand to trim the fat from my first draft. I'm glad I produced a piece of writing for this class that I am genuinely happy about. The fruit content was written on the fly and the profile article was pre-written and combined with a follow-up story, so that it wasn't exactly cheating, though I suppose that could possibly be up for debate. 

 

I won't debate that this'll show off my writer self, who has mostly coasted through this class. (I shouldn't say that in a negative way—on the contrary, I have fallen for design harder than ever before.)

 

And I'm off to deal with that part of the assignment. I'm happy with my draft, which hopefully are easy to see from this post. I'm glad to be re-visiting this and I feel like I have not mounted in a while.

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I see you bubbling all over the place -- you're yeasty, and I think it's grand!

1000 Words Isn't Enough

Is anyone else struggling to keep to the 1000 word maximum? Granted, I can be a chatterbox (not literally, but the writer-equivalent to that). But somehow, one thousand words for my piece seems to scratch the surface of my topic (How to Buy Reggae). I can't wait to get some feedback tomorrow. This is my first draft and I haven't done any heavy editing, so I'm all ears and eyes. Although I feel like my idea is simple enough, clearly I still need to trim the fat if I can't fit it within the limit.

Main Topic: Dancehall Reggae (as narration, commentary, and storytelling)
Organizing Principle: Plotlines and Characters
Client: Vibe magazine

How to Buy Reggae: A Guide to the Unknown
by LaDonna LaGuerre

Reggae.

What five words come to mind first? Bob Marley and the Wailers?

Bob bares the responsibility of representing a basic, mainstream image of reggae—a genre largely understood as a one-dimensional continuation of drums. He croons softly in the backdrop of tourism commercials. His name always comes up first when asked, 'Hey, do you like reggae?" The natural response: "Yeah, Bob Marley's cool."

We knew reggae as jolly, positive music that seeped out of Jamaica in the 1960s, irrigated throughout the world, yes, thanks to Bob's legendary music. Unfortunately, for Bob, reggae has moved on. While peace music and slave songs will never die, modern subgenres, like dancehall, infuse and entrance a new generation of music lovers. Reggae got over dub plates and steel drums

and got into riddim riders, DJs, and dance moves, creating a fresh, 21^st-century Jamaican sound.

One problem: Dancehall can boggle the mind. Fast-flowing rhymes, a clamorous bass line, Jamaican patois, and rich, allegorical lyrics can turn off the layperson listener, or even the traditional reggae fan, from getting into this genre of music—too many barriers. A true dancehall fanatic can attest to its exclusive, almost cult-like feel.

Vibe knocks the wall down between hardcore dancehall and the average person with an interest in, and possibly an intimidation of, reggae. Before you go fishing for download sites or hit up your local music shop, read on. Learn how to buy reggae (and, maybe, how to understand the music you are buying, to which you'd be listening nonstop after pressing play on the first track).

Now you know: reggae used to mean Bob Marley and now takes on an inclusive and more contemporary definition. It's hip, energetic, and, cool—but who knew also complex? Your dancehall lesson does not end with a historical timeline.

Making your dancehall purchase always starts with format selection: DJ mix or an artist recording? The novice listener generally feels more comfortable with the latter; with experience, you move on to understand the significance and pleasure of the DJ mix—deejays sometimes have greater impact on the dancehall scene than the artist, who often cannot gain popularity without them (tabled for lesson two).

Now, to the important questions that will define your purchase:

Are you feeling tough?

Think you're a bad ass bitch?

Depressed?

Love pussy?

Need something familiar?

Hate your government?

Remember, complexity and dancehall go hand in hand. Reggae consumers do not just buy reggae—they often invest in the messages, points of view, or paradigms of the artist writing and performing the lyrics. A tough guy will buy a different type of dancehall than someone wanting to overthrow the government. Dancehall tells stories of the multi-faceted Jamaican experience, one that could involve everything: from street violence, poverty, marijuana, and self-pride, to Jah (a God-like figure), women, humor, and homophobia. These songs speak to all those plots, and others, constructing vibrant Jamaican characters (and caricatures)—which needs analysis and consideration before making a move to checkout.

Plot: Mi Bust Mi Gun

Character: The Rude Bwoy

Back in the day, in a famous reggae classic, the artist tells you: "Six million ways to die—choose one," followed up with a demonic laugh and a head-bobbing beat. Buying Badman brings you to the dangerous streets of Jamaica, the garrison, like a musical version of The Wire. Sample Badman lyrics: Bawl, Mama, bawl now. Hey Mama, buy a wreath for your son, 'cause he fucked around, now he's gonna die by my gun. And now you're gonna cry when you come, when you see his body on the ground.

Plot: Catfight

Character: The Bad Gyal

For a female to make it in a male-dominated profession, she must find an edge to be a cut-above the rest. She needs to claw her way for respect and recognition from her peers. So what if her claws dig into the faces of fellow female artists? A Bad Gyal purchase, a lyrical catfight, not only uncovers the competitive nature of the dancehall industry, but also the daily reality for Jamaicans who compete on the island for basic resources and life necessities. Sample Bad Gyal lyrics: Excuse me, miss, make me teach you some tricks. Just like a doggy, me mek him sit. Gal yuh man a lust after my kibbles and bits, 'cause me have the tactics fi ease his spirits. Watch me—make me upgrade yuh man. Me will sen him bak in better condition. When I'm done with him he'll be my likkle Superman. A nuh my fault make yuh man lust afta me.

Plot: Depression and the Black Man

Character: The Deep Brother

Peel away Jamaica's shiny façade of sand, beaches, Hedonism, Spring Break, and honeymoons and what do you find? Well, after the weed—what do you find? Shanty towns with tin roof houses. Parents working hard like slaves to feed and educate children. Frustration, poverty, and depression. Listening to the Deep Brother talk about his hard times requires empathy, passion, and possibly a drive to change the world. Sample Deep Brother lyrics: Exercise every day and I'm still not fit. My kids are hungry and I ain't got shit. What I'm gonna do, what I'm gonna do? What would you do?

[Note: I want to continue my classification to touch upon each of the question defining questions above, but last check I was at 984 words, so I'm forced to stop with a clear, finalized piece.]

(Conclusion)

Almost out of the first 21^st-century decade and, finally, dancehall has omnipresence. It's everywhere—and I don't mean Brooklyn, NY. Once upon a time, reggae acted as a backdrop to fruity cocktails, beach trips, or as the faceless bong mate. Today in the U.S., reggae blasts out of commercial radio stations, saves the night at a typical hip-hop club venue with patrons don't dance, and recognized by cable television conglomerates as viable sources of new content. Most importantly, reggae can now be a part of your music collection, chosen deliberately, carefully, and with confidence. Tomorrow, it can be pumping out of your iPod headphones.

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I see you bubbling all over the place -- you're yeasty, and I think it's grand!

Crit isn't bad

Molly Bang wrote briefly about being critiqued by some art god in the How Pictures Work preface, speaking directly the running Words & Images conversation about critique sessions. Some, perhaps many, class members find critique either brutal, long, or otherwise dreadful. Others don't comment; maybe a favorable opinion by default. Then, of course, there's the "man up" point of view. I lean towards the latter, because, as I wrote on Markorama, design isn't entirely subjective and benefits from, if not depends on, understanding how others (a broad "others" if possible or necessary) perceive the work and what the visual experience is like. And if you can back up and defend your work, if you believe in it, the conversation becomes that much more interesting, dynamic, rich, and useful. Utility is key. I guess tact as well. To be honest, I can't think of too many other classes with crit sessions as good as Words & Images. I enjoy mostly that students get involved in the conversation, which counters the idea of crit I learned as an undergrad.

"I wrote up what seemed to be going on, then sent it to Rudolf Arnheim, the dean of psychology of art in the United States, whose books I found most helpful. Almost immediately I received a courtly letter back saying he liked the book and had some suggestions if I didn't mind his scribbling on the sides of the pages. Mind? I asked him to please scribble, scribble away. He returned the manuscript with comments on almost every page, each on insightful or illuminating, and I incorporated every one."
© 2000 Molly Bang. How Pictures Work, page 7.

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I see you bubbling all over the place -- you're yeasty, and I think it's grand!

IRRUPT -- Word of the Day for Sunday, February 24, 2008, Dictionary.com

irrupt \ih-RUHPT\, intransitive verb:
1. To burst in forcibly or suddenly; to intrude.
2. (Ecology) To increase rapidly in number.

verb
1.	enter uninvited; "They intruded on our dinner party"; "She irrupted into our sitting room" [syn: intrude]
2.	erupt or intensify suddenly; "Unrest erupted in the country"; "Tempers flared at the meeting"; "The crowd irrupted into a burst of patriotism" [syn: erupt]
3.	increase rapidly and in an uncontrolled manner; "The population of India is exploding"; "The island's rodent population irrupted" [syn: explode]

"How appropriate," I thought, going through my inbox Sunday afternoon and reading Word of the Day, after a blurred Saturday nighr road trip to New York. By that point, I was exhausted, but dutifully shifted gears from the Jersey Turnpike to Project 1 for our beloved Saturday class--to Safeway, Caribbean American Heritage Month, and exotic, delicious, toothsome fruit.

Opening InDesign, I grumbled about this signage project "irrupting" my life and otherwise decent mood. Admittedly, this has been one of the most challenging design problems I've had to solve. And I've designed a bunch of things -- business cards, corporate documents, training manuals, slide presentations, magazines, ads, flyers, posters, bumper stickers, T-shirts, as well as done a lot of technical, descriptive, and investigative writing. I've always effortlessly managed to easily whip together success for any design solution I've had to create. Somehow, this was difficult -- and I'm dreading this upcoming revision process.

The biggest challenge for me was relaying my concept on paper; on one count, while the concept was good, it might have been too layered, too inclusive, and therefore murky on the page; one another count, I felt stifled by the necessity to explain Caribbean American Heritage Month and why Safeway was choosing to promote it. Not only that, but I made an explicit choice to feature fruits only from Jamaica for my signs. Again, I felt it necessary to explain why Jamaica was the only focus. I also relied to heavily on concept alone to carry the comapre/contrast theme. Both grapefruits and tamarinds can be eaten as natural fruit snacks and desserts, they are both part of a typical Jamaican diet, one recipe was for a snack and one was for a dessert, one is not exotic (grown in the U.S. as well) and the other is only tropically-grown. ARGH! And then, of course, Caribbean culture in Baltimore is just not that booming...so I felt at a loss, though tied, still, to my concept (I guess that I'm involved in the making of this Month and that I have a personal stake in its promotion and "outreach," I refused to go anywhere else with my idea). I'm boiling over just re-living the back-and-forth internal debate about this...and the dissatisfaction I felt when I landed on the final concept.

I was sweating bullets as we sat in critique (which, I must add, was prettttttaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyy long -- I understand the need and this just brings me back to college crits; I'm used to it, but I do agree with Mark's "half & half" suggestion). In any case, I was nervous, especially after Stephanie made it clear that some people flat out did it wrong. I knew I was part of that group. Seeing my work against the others made me more frenetic...not because I thought my work was inferior, but because I admired the way most people kept it simple while pulling off compelling themes. I was happy with my crit, a little disappointed at the lack of peer feedback I received (though I understood how difficult mine was to read and, therefore, evalutate), but grateful that I was not shred to pieces. I panicked that I did not just stick to my "truly initial" idea of a CAHM food/recipe demonstration stand in Whole Foods, with recipe cards and so forth, but left the critique feeling on track nonetheless and somewhat ready to edit.

Still, dread looms. I feel trapped by fruit. Girl, irrupted.

In any case, I bring some useful lessons to this final revision, some of which are refreshers: trust your gut, simplify where possible, don't bite more than can be chewed, grow and maintain thick skin, don't forget the price tag, nobody's perfect.

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I see you bubbling all over the place -- you're yeasty, and I think it's grand!