The Studio Source.com

Image by Jim Linwood

Three little things that aren’t so little

Thing 1: I don’t generally hang out with marketing types.

Is that telling?

I have no idea.

Thing 2: Writing about marketing on a regular basis is, ah, not very interesting. I’m not supposed to feel that way.

Is that bad?

Actually, no. There’s no point in me shrieking about 10 Tips for an Awesome Blog! if the real stumbling blocks can’t be solved by a list of tips.

The best marketing goes much deeper than that. And that’s where I do my best work.

Thing 3: I want to write a bloody damn book. Two books, if you’re counting. I need to carve out a space to do that.

This isn’t the place.

It’s not a bad place; I quite like it here. But it’s not quite right to do the heavy work that needs to be done.

So I built a new place. It’s called Perceptions, filtered. It’s about creativity and critical thinking, which are two essential elements of great marketing.

It’s a shift, not a massive overhaul. It feels right in my gut. And my bones.

In honour of The Studio Source, I picked 13 of my favourite essays and made them into a free ebook. No email address required, you can simply download and enjoy.

So come on over to Perceptions, have a look around, and if you like what you see, sign up for updates or catch up with me on social media.

And to those of you who have stuck with me for the duration, thank you. I hope you’ll join me on my new adventures.

Image by MamaPyjama

Playing with career choices
Back when I was in art school, a friend who was working on a Theatre degree discovered student services offered a career planning test. This one was based on interests rather than skills, so we decided we’d both give it a spin.

The results were well worth ticking all the little boxes.

Before I tell you what happened next, I need to explain something about my friend: she’s the type that cringes at movies. If particularly well-crafted carnage were about to occur, she would, on occasion, shrink into her seat, knees heading for her chin, with at least one hand clamped over her mouth.

Her top career recommendation? Naval officer. As you might imagine, hilarity ensued.

Then I began to read my assessment aloud.

Image by Laszlo Ilyes

When time comes calling
A friend is very ill. We used to be close, but drifted apart, as friends sometimes do. When I heard the news, I sent her a message. That I was thinking of her; that she didn’t have to reply if her social capacity was on overload.

She just received more bad news, which she’s accepted with more grace and good humour than I could ever manage. She thanked me for writing.

“I hope you are well and happy—and creatively engaged.”