Every year, right around this time, I develop a warm feeling of excited anticipation.
I wake up in the morning and the air smells like possibility,
the sun on my face feels like a rhythm that my life is about to change.
As I wait for the change to start happening,
I always find myself dreaming of what it might be:
a new job, a house change,
winning the big bucks possibly?
Usually, the change is almost always more like realising that it’s time to do the laundry and suddenly hitting the jackpot with clothes I’d forgotten about completely. Regardless, this feeling always surprises me, and I treasure it each year, whatever form it choses to take.
It’s sort of like a reminder that I am not yet at all jaded by life,
that I still believe in great impossible things such as moving my whole entire self to a different country or becoming something I’m not yet.
I cling to this part of myself like a child who knows the Tooth Fairy isn’t *really* real, and yet refuses to admit it.
Perhaps this is my version of refusing to achieve maturity.
But hey, if that feeling of pure joy and eagerness disappears, all that’s left of autumn is the air getting cooler and the grey mornings getting darker, then how boring is that?
I don’t think I will ever quite stop dreaming about the changes, the could be’s and the will be’s… which is why this time the impossible rhythm is really quite something.
It might be enough to take my heart and soul, my ideas and my life to another level above laundry baskets and hidden socks to an unknown mystery.
But I wont know till I get there.
London here we come.
Not too long ago, I found myself traipsing around the Andreas Gursky exhibition in Melbourne.
I was with a sweet boy, uttering issues about work, life and love. As you do.
Moving along now.
So while sinking into Gursky’s photos, which are tremendous images of humanity’s simultaneous isolation and communal sharing of experiences, we we’re trying not to talk too much about the work and other nefarious issues, but instead talking about the photos, because we both feel it utterly necessary to live a life inspired (some prefer to say distracted) by art-slash-design–slash-photography.
So, as we stand in front of an oversized landscape of an apartment building, (The Montparnasse, Paris ’93) which shows more than a hundred windows, each different, bold, beautiful and intrinsically unique.
He made a frivolous comment about the poor guy who had the lilac and burgundy blinds, and how much he must hate living there.
I thought quietly for a moment, gazing into the windows that filled my mind before me and turned around promptly to the sound of an oddly quiet voice that could coat the most prophetic announcements.
“It might look bad from where he’s standing, but it works so beautifully as part of the whole.”
A young boy about the age I started appreciating design and art in a bigger scope was standing closely behind us. Starring amusingly at the giant print, analysing more than any adult in the room could ever have imagined.
Instantly, the fundamental point in my mind emerges.
He was right. The entire exhibition exemplified a deliberation of fine detail, infrastructure and how each and every unit, person or colour became a pawn within an entire landscape.
Which now had us asking; How does everything we do fit into the whole world view? How does the dynamic change when we take the long view? Or the outside perspective? And if you change your blinds (or job for instance…), do you need or even want to think about the surrounding picture? …What comes next?
The Montparnasse, Paris
Maybe Gusky was onto something afterall.
So its been around for a while now, but I’m still mildly amused by this, and did find this draft hiding neatly away under the rug of my wordpress dashboard.
So here it is. One million bright ideas….
Take one college-bound student with an overdrawn bank account and one intense 20-minute brainstorming session on how to raise money to pay for school, and what do you get?
A million-dollar idea that’s had people everywhere slapping their foreheads and muttering “Why didn’t I think of that?” ever since.
With only one month to go before he was to begin classes at a three-year university course, -and no money in his bank account this kid was determined to find a way to avoid student debt.
The home page holds a million pixels arranged in a 1000×1000 pixel grid; the image-based links on it were sold for $1 per pixel in 10 × 10 blocks.
The lucky buyers of these pixel blocks supplied tiny images, a URL and a slogan to appear when hovering over the link. The aim of the site was to sell all of the pixels in the image, and pretty much brought in a million dollars of income for the creator.
The Million Dollar Homepage was launched is still alive and successfully raised $1 million by selling ad space for $1 per pixel. It is actually amusing to look at…in a hideous and hilarious sort of way…mainly due to the fact the kid made a worthy buck or two from it.
Stupidly simple. The enterpranuer in me is yelling: “why didn’t I think of that?” right about now.
$1 a pixel anyone?