Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Advertising, Agency Culture, Attitude & Aptitude, Authenticity, Brand, Brand Suicide, Business, Chaos, China, Colenso, Comment, Communication Strategy, Creativity, Culture, Deutsch, Diversity, Emotion, Empathy, Experience, Family, Imagination, Innovation, Insight, Jill, London, Management, Marketing, Martin Weigel, Metallica, Nike, Otis, Planners, Planning, Point Of View, Purpose, R/GA, Shanghai, Singapore, Social Divide, Sport, Technology, The Kennedys, The Kennedys Shanghai, WeigelCampbell, Wieden+Kennedy
When you’re my age, you get to look at your career and see the different phases that it passes through.
I remember one year at Wieden, we seemed to make more beautiful, highly-crafted physical books on culture than we did ads.
Now I’m a huge fan of these – and still do them – but that year I think we made about 10, which was frankly ridiculous.
Then there was the year I got told I’d spoken at more conferences than anyone at Wieden.
It wasn’t said as a diss, more a fact – though I do remember Luhr looking at me with the face of someone who couldn’t work out why anyone would want me to talk at their event.
He wasn’t wrong.
Then there was the year I seemed to be in every bloody Asian marketing book or article and then of course, The Kennedys.
It happens. It’s rarely an intentional thing, but the nature of the business means it can be like that … and while I’ll always prefer to be involved in creating stuff, it does let you feel things are evolving and that’s a good feeling.
Well this year is another one of those years.
Part of this is because of the situation the World is in and part of it is because of the situation I have found myself in.
However, whereas previous years have seemingly had singular focuses, this year has had two.
Icons of culture and podcasts.
Both have been pretty awesome.
Musicians … Fashion superstars … Gaming Royalty … Billionaires.
Frankly people who should know a lot better than to ever want me to work with them … and yet, for reasons I don’t understand but am utterly grateful for, they have.
It’s certainly very different to the work I’ve done in the past, but it not only is introducing me to a whole new world of creative expression – from developing new concert experiences to video game design to stuff that is genuinely almost impossible for me to describe as it’s just plain beautifully bonkers – it’s letting me work with people who are recognised as being the best in their field so to be in this position … and to have Colenso to look forward to in addition … feels like winning the lottery.
I know this all sounds like humble bragging – but that’s not the intent.
To be honest, it’s more about me writing it down so I never forget this feeling.
This moment.
Because as tough as it is for people all around the World, I am very, very fortunate so many good things have come my way.
But that’s not what this post is about, it’s about the other thing I’ve been doing a lot of.
Podcasts.
I’ve done a ton this year.
[Here and here and here for example]
Why people want to hear from me – especially when I write so much bollocks about my life on here – is another thing I don’t get … but it’s been fun.
Recently the lovely/stupid people at Colenso had chat with me for their Love This podcast …
We cover all manner of subjects … from running a planning gang to developing creativity in a pandemic to how to be a fucking idiot … so if you’re bored, an insomniac or are jealous of Colenso’s brilliance and are looking forward to the pain they’ll experience with me in the building, you can listen to it at one of these places.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Confidence, Content, Context, Creativity, Culture, Distinction, Diversity, Family, Happiness, Imagination, Innocence, Innovation, Jill, Mum, Mum & Dad, My Fatherhood, Otis, Paul, Relevance, Resonance
Can you imagine what it must have been like growing up in the 1920’s and living in the 1960’s?
The things you have seen, endured, been challenged by?
The advances in technology, social mobility, medicine?
Wars, depression, liberation, love.
It must have been amazing …
Well, the reason I say this is because it’s exactly the same if you were a kid in the 80’s but are around today.
OK, it’s not identical … but the cultural shifts have been, in many ways, just as dramatic.
Wars. Economic highs and lows. Medical and transportation revolution. The internet.
Huge shifts in expressions of creativity – from music, art, film and TV to fashion, food, technology and sport.
An endless journey of exploration, discovery and adventure.
And while it can all feel daunting, the reality is the changes are rarely night and day.
More like a steady stream of progress, even if not always in a straight line or done with fairness or equality.
Throughout her life, my Mum was very much about embracing the present.
Not in the sense that she was trying to mimic Cher [though I also love Cher] … nor that she didn’t value the experience and lessons of the past … but because her view was that if you embrace the times, you live a more fulfilling life.
It’s why she was always interested in what others were interested in.
Music. Art. Film. Culture.
Because even if she didn’t always understand it or like it, she felt it was important to appreciate it. Though, you would be amazed how much she did like it. Love it even.
It amazes me how many people don’t seem to follow this view.
Who think that actually, you can turn back time.
Like Republican/Tory voters. Or Daily Mail readers.
Stubbornly trying to maintain or recreate a time where they felt more ‘in control’. More important or valuable.
And while I appreciate change can be scary, it can also be exhilarating and that’s why the idea of living in the equivilent of the 1920’s to 1960’s has never made me feel so old, it’s also never made me feel so lucky.
I hope with all my heart I get to experience the World when Otis has gone through the same period of time.
It’s unlikely, but I hope he embraces it.
Not just for his happiness, but for what it could inspire him to do.
To discover.
To learn.
Thank you Mum.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Childhood, Comment, Context, Dad, Daddyhood, Emotion, Empathy, England, Family, Friendship, Fulfillment, Happiness, Home, Jill, Love, Mum, Mum & Dad, Nottingham, Otis, Parents, Paul, Relationships, Rosie
When I was growing up, our back garden was a disaster.
Overgrown.
Tall grass.
Brambles.
Bushes.
Beautiful mayhem.
As a kid, I thought it was amazing.
Me and Paul would run in there and it felt like we were in the jungle.
From playing hide and seek to pretending we were soldiers, it could all happen there.
Then around the age of 5, Mum and Dad had an extension put onto the house and because the loan they took out for it was a bit more than they needed to have it built, they spent the rest on the garden.
Oh how they loved it.
They spent hours there.
Creating it. Cultivating it. Nurturing it. Admiring it.
My god, the way my dad treated his ‘sweet peas’ was enough to make me think he loved them more than me sometimes.
And while I still could play softball tennis with Mum on the patio, I always felt I had had something robbed from me – despite the fact there was a massive park down the road and huge fields of nothingness around the house.
So from there on in, while I could appreciate a nice garden, I always saw them as something that pushed me away rather than welcomed me in.
Until now.
I readily admit I had nothing to do with the garden we have in the home we have just bought.
I readily admit part of its appeal is that it’s mature, so feels natural rather than contrived.
And I readily admit I am still as shit and unenthusiastic about gardening as I ever was.
But my god, I am shocked at how much I love it.
I can stare at it for hours.
Sit in it for days.
Doing nothing but looking at it’s beautiful vibrancy and shades.
Seeing Rosie the cat stretch out on the deck like she has just hit ‘peak cat life’.
Watching Otis play on the swing hanging from the tree then looking at Jill picking up all the apples that have fallen from Otis’ adventure. Turning them into pies that we scoff or give to the neighbours in an blatant attempt to mitigate the mayhem we’ve caused in the first few months of living here with huge moving trucks blocking the road and electrical blackouts that we absolutely, definitely did not cause.
The idea of all this is about as foreign to me as you could get.
I’m a city person.
I like noise and bustle not nature and quiet.
Yet … yet … this is something very special.
Something I feel a real privilege to experience, which I acknowledge is only possible because of the privileged position I am in.
And while all these feelings could all be because of my age or because this house is our family home – regardless of the incoming NZ adventure – the impact of a simple garden has been far more than I ever imagined.
Which makes me think it could also have something to do with making me feel closer to Mum and Dad.
You see while our little garden at home was nothing like this, it was incredibly special to them.
Sure it was beautiful. Sure it was the fruits of their hard work and care. But it seemed to be a place that let them feel everything was going to be OK, regardless of the challenges.
And over the years, our wonderful little family faced many – but that garden always gave them comfort and joy.
A little piece of heaven.
Blossoming into radiant beauty and colour even after the harshest of winters.
Reminding them that the darkest times will always welcome a new spring.
And while as a kid I didn’t really like how that garden had robbed me of my jungle, I grew to appreciate it.
I saw what it did for my parents.
I still remember how my Dad stared in wonder at it after his stroke.
He’d been in hospital for months and was finally allowed home.
And while he needed a lot of care from Mum, that garden was like medicine for him. Helping him forget the pain he was in. Helping him forget the turmoil he was going through.
No longer able to talk.
No longer able to walk properly.
But here, facing the fruits of his love and labour, all was forgotten.
He was safe.
He felt nourished.
He was connected to something his body was not able to let him enjoy anymore.
He and Mum could transport themselves to a time and place where everything was OK.
And while I hope I never face the tragedy my Father suffered – and acknowledge this garden is from the toil of others hands – I feel I get what nature was able to do for Mum and Dad.
Because it isn’t just what grows in the garden, but what it helps blossom within yourself.
Filed under: A Bit Of Inspiration, Attitude & Aptitude, Colenso, Comment, Culture, Daddyhood, Emotion, England, Family, Fatherhood, Goodbye England, Home, Jill, Love, My Fatherhood, New Zealand, Otis, Parents, Paul, Shelly
So today is the 1st Feb.
That means today is the first day of our final month living in England.
Or at least living in England for a period of time.
We will be back for a whole host of reasons, we just don’t know when.
And while I’ll be writing another long, drawn out post listing all the things I’ll miss and all the things I’m grateful for … the reality is there’s a chance COVID will fuck our plans and instead of boarding a plane to New Zealand on the 3rd March, we’ll be in our beautiful home, trying to work out how to get our furniture off a boat and our cat out of quarantine.
It’s a strange feeling to think you have a time limit on what you have come to consider ‘home’.
A mixture of fear and excitement.
Of course we have done it a ton of times – and we’re really thrilled to be off on another adventure – but there’s a bunch of things that have got their teeth into us.
Being near Paul and Shelly after 25 years is a huge one.
Our beautiful new home with our beautiful garden is another.
Not to mention the wonderful new friends we’ve made in the time we’ve been back.
But as I say to many people who ask me about moving overseas, while it is easy to focus on the things you’ll miss, you need to focus on the things you’ll gain.
And we can’t wait for that.
The things we know, the things we hope for and the things that will just crash into our life.
I owe so much of my life to having lived around the World and I’m very excited to discover what new chapters this adventure will write.
So as this is a month where a lot will be going on, this blog will end on Friday till we are either in NZ or being told we have to wait longer to get into NZ.
Though whatever is the outcome, while not hearing my rubbish on here for a few weeks sounds like a delight, let me remind you – when I’m in quarantine in NZ with literally nothing to do, there’s a good chance I may be writing 100 blog posts a day.
So be careful what you wish for.