I don't think any of us really take notice of what power our words can have at any given moment. Yesterday I became lost in Springfield after getting off at the wrong bus stop. I waited an extra 10 minutes for the next bus alongside a blonde-haired women sporting a rather raggy Oregon shirt. She broke the silence that occupied us.
"Have you ever smoked?" she said.
"No, never as a habit as least," I replied.
She questioned how I did it - how I stopped myself from ever doing it as a habit. It's always been something that never appealed to me, and I told her that I didn't want to harm my body. I learned that the women's name was Patti, and her father had recently died of throat cancer. She asked me more questions and began sharing some tid bits of her life with me. It was almost as if she was simply trying to tell herself everything she needed to hear herself.
"What do you study, Spice?"
"Advertising. I'm trying to make it better."
She laughed, and told me to keep being the young, independent women I am.
As our 10 minutes drew to an end, I also told her about this one ad campaign that I always found so powerful. It's called "Dear Me," and the campaign simply focuses on the idea that "No one can make me quit, but me." I encouraged her to try writing herself a letter, and she accepted this advice with an honest smile.
I hope our conversation shined light on her efforts to quit smoking, and I wish Patti the best of luck.

Amor Fati

As we sat in Whole Foods eating our dinner, my friend asked, “In your 21 years of life, what is the most important thing you have learned?” Naturally, I paused for a moment, thinking of all the possible answers that raced through my head. There is one Latin phrase that has always stood out to me though: amor fati. It means “love of fate” or “love of one’s fate.” It describes an attitude in which one ultimately views everything that happens in their life, including suffering and loss, as good. Each moment of our lives has the ability to influence another, and you never know what course of events will led you where. I think it’s important to feel comfortable with that, and to embrace it as well.
I asked him the same question. He replied, “That change is inevitable,” explaining how we will always need to adapt and adjust to new things in life. While I definitely believe this to be true, I asked whether becoming so familiar with change would take away from the experience of change itself. We got lost in conversation and our thoughts took twists and turns and made us think and question ourselves and our work and what on earth we are doing with our lives and we almost missed our train back home. Even if we did, it would have been worth it. The world seems a little bit more manageable than before. And it feels nice.

Wolf of the Steppes

I recently just finished reading "Steppenwolf" by Hermann Hesse for my Doppelganger class. Ever since reading "Demian" and "Siddhartha" back in high school, I've always considered Hesse one of my favorite authors. His work centers on the quest for authentic self-awareness, spirituality and meaning; his beautiful prose describes these abstract and mystifying thoughts with a great sense of ease. In this particular work, he utilizes a female double, Hermine, to directly reflect the novel's protagonist, Harry Haller (or also known as "The Steppenwolf"). Hermine explains that part of the Steppenwolf's previous unhappiness is due to this inability to recognize the multiple souls within himself -  something that she is determined to prove to him. I love how desire, sexuality, and sin all play a role in this doubling, and ultimately helps to save Harry from himself. She mends Harry's dueling personas together by teaching him how to dance, laugh, and love - both himself and others.

Below are two slides from my final presentation.

A Letter About My Mom

   Remember in second grade when everyone had to draw out their family tree and bring it to class? Well, I never had much of a family. Growing up, it was always just my mother and I. Rosemary and Spice – the mother daughter pair that, despite our herb-related names, could not have been any more opposite. We were the Virgo and the Aquarius. The yin and the yang.
    My mom dyed her hair pink, told me to skip school at least once a week, and owned a cookie company on the Sunset Strip. I hid my face in embarrassment as she would flaunt her latest tattoos, or blast Nina Hagen in the car as we drove down Hollywood Blvd. (Deep down, I always knew she was the “cool” mom.)
    When I would come home after school with the instructions for my  family tree assignment, I had many questions to ask: What is my great-aunt’s name? Who is married to who? Is my cousin’s name Jessica or Jenna?
    “Spice, just make it up,” she insisted. “Be creative.”
    And with those words, I froze. She tore down all barriers that I strictly obeyed in school and shined light on a new set of rules for me. I had the power to do things a bit differently. I learnt at a young age to never limit myself to the same box as everyone else. If everyone did exactly what they were told, the world would grow lifeless and dull. Variety is the spice of life, isn’t it?
    As I approach my 22nd year of life and actively pursue a creative career, I am always thankful for the lessons and experiences my mother provided me while growing up. I could not have done any of it without her.

 

NYC Agencies

There is something that just clicked as I sat at some of the agencies. I marveled at the way each person spoke about their work and took notice of the passion that shined through their words. These exchanges reflected the agency’s culture, their mindsets, and how they think as a collective group of individuals. Thoughts were shared with us, not to us, and a great deal of respect circulated the room. My favorite agencies were Story, 72 & Sunny, W+K, and Anomaly. They epitomized the perfect balance between being creative and goofy while still maintaining a professional nature. They illustrated how creativity is not bound by a title - creatives are strategists, strategists are creatives, and most of all, people are people.

It’s always funny to me when people think I am a designer. I think of it this way: I like to design, but wouldn’t consider myself a true designer. I like to dance, but I’m not a dancer. I like to act, but I am not an actor. I do believe that being well-rounded is extremely important though, especially in today’s world. No job position is ever going to be limited to a single task. We all need to be a species of hybrids to be successful at what we do. As an account strategist, how will creatives listen to my ideas if I have a shitty looking deck? And the same goes the other way: how will I trust a designer if they can’t articulate the reasoning and purpose behind their design choices? Specialization is definitely important, but as we venture out into the advertising industry, we need to train ourselves to be a jack of all trades.