Archive for October, 2009

October 30, 2009

new moleskine drawing: “tried life”

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Just finished this new Moles­kine dra­wing: “Tried Mea­ning­ful”. You can see the enlar­ged image here. Let me know what you think!

[See more like this over at the Moles­kine archive.]

[Backs­tory: About Hugh. E-mail Hugh. Twit­ter. Limi­ted Edi­tion Prints. Car­toon Archive. News­let­ter. Book. Inter­viewEssen­tial Rea­ding:Everything You Always Wan­ted To Know About ‘Cube Gre­na­des’ But Were Afraid To Ask.”]

October 28, 2009

“the moment”

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Simon Thornhill is a good friend of mine. He and his lovely wife own The Trou­ba­dour in Lon­don, the legen­dary res­tau­rant and nightc­lub. Jimi Hen­drix and Bob Dylan pla­yed there, back when they were still unk­nown. The Thornhills bought the place from the pre­vious owners a few years ago.

Before that, Simon was an offi­cer in The Scots Guards, a highly res­pec­ted Scot­tish regi­ment in the Bri­tish Army. He’s tough as nails, but a bit of a hip­pie, too. If you ever visit Earl’s Court, look him up. He’s terri­fic company.

I don’t know what we were were tal­king about that night in The Shac­kle­ton Room, but somehow the con­ver­sa­tion got on to the sub­ject of young Army offi­cers. Some of the kids I went to high school in Edin­burgh with ended up joi­ning Regi­ments straight after finishing their exams, so Simon’s pre­vious life wasn’t a world com­ple­tely unk­nown to me. These kids sign up at age seven­teen or eigh­teen, take their two-year trai­ning at Sandhurst, and the next thing you know, they’re in the field, armed to the teeth, and giving orders to expe­rien­ced Sar­geants and Cor­po­rals twice their age.

I don’t know about you, but I would find that REALLY inti­mi­da­ting. Those young kids must have cojo­nes, I’ll tell you that. I was telling Simon how terrif­ying I thought it it must be, to be a kid barely out of school, with all the men  FAR more expe­rien­ced than you under your com­mand, hol­ding you in the tra­di­tio­nal squad­dies’ con­tempt reser­ved for all new, young officers.

“Yes,  that cer­tainly hap­pens,” said Simon. “But then you finally have what they call in the Army, ‘The Moment’. The Moment when you stop trying to be your men’s new best friend, and actually start to lead them. That’s when you REALLY become an offi­cer– not before, when you receive your commission.

“That hap­pe­ned to me when we were on a night exer­cise. I had only recei­ved my com­mis­sion a few months pre­viously. Things were going terribly wrong, nobody was doing their jobs. Everything was in sham­bles. Finally I had my ‘Moment’. I just pulled my fin­ger out, and firmly said to the men, ‘I’m in com­mand, you’re not, you will do as I say or I will have you all up on char­ges, Boys. Now fuc­king go do your jobs.’ Somehow they knew I wasn’t joking.

“And so they went off and obe­yed their orders, without any fuss. A few of them were easily ten or fif­teen years older than me… The thing is, they might not think much of the young kid giving them orders at first, but at the same time, sol­diers do want to be led.”

As with Simon, I think we all need to have that “Moment”, even­tually. That moment when we stop futzing around and actually start beha­ving like pro­per adults. That moment when we actually start acting like “Offi­cers” com­man­ding our own lives.

I remem­ber mine. I didn’t think too much about it at the time, but over the years I rea­li­zed just how key it ended up being.

I was a young free­lance adver­ti­sing crea­tive, living in Lon­don, mee­ting a friend for a drink at my regu­lar Soho wate­ring hole, The Coach & Horses.

The bar was crow­ded and noisy that eve­ning. The bar­maid was a young, pretty Chi­nese lass, who’d only been in the country a short while, who spoke pretty good English, but not great.

I asked the bar­maid for a glass of wine for my friend, and for me, a gin & tonic with FOUR sli­ces of lime. I even held up four fin­gers to help make it clear to her.

So the poor bar­maid ended up brin­ging me back five drinks– my friend’s glass of wine, with FOUR gin & tonics, each with a SINGLE slice of lime. Oops. We’re tal­king a round that I sup­pose easily excee­ded thirty or forty dollars.

A sim­ple misun­ders­tan­ding, I guess, plus like I said, her English wasn’t very good. I told the bar­maid about the mix-up. “No, I asked for a SINGLE gin & tonic with FOUR sli­ces of lime” etc.

Up until that moment, like any young pub drin­ker, I pro­bably would then have just asked the bar­maid to take the sur­plus three drinks away, and add more lime sli­ces to the remai­ning gin. Easy. But I didn’t.

Ins­tead, I asked her, “Will this mis­take be coming out of your wages?”

“Yes,” she replied. I already knew enough about the bar’s owner to know that she wasn’t lying.

The thing is, unlike here in the US, the peo­ple wor­king in Lon­don pubs don’t work for tips, mainly because nobody really tips there. You might get five or ten dollars a night if you’re lucky. They get paid by the hour, usually mini­mum wage, in one of the most expen­sive cities in the world. Hence Lon­don bar­ten­ders tend to be really, really poor. The mis­take the bar­maid made would be, for her, extre­mely expen­sive. Two-three hours’ wages or so, maybe even more.

“Never mind,” I said. “Just put three more limes in one of the glas­ses, and I’ll pay for the other three gins as well.” Which I did.

Then it was just a mat­ter of fin­ding three ran­dom peo­ple in the bar who were not above accep­ting free gin & tonics from a total stran­ger with an Ame­ri­can accent. This being The Coach & Hor­ses, that took all of twenty seconds. “Cheers, Mate!”

A year or two before that, I would’ve just pro­bably allo­wed the young bar­maid to take the hit. “You made the mis­take, not me, not my pro­blem” etc.

Lon­don was being kind to me at the time; life was good. Whe­reas this young Chi­nese girl was living thou­sands of miles away from her family, and pro­bably doing so very close to the poverty line. So I chose to take the hit ins­tead of her. I know I didn’t have to, I was per­fectly within my rights, but…

I didn’t want to be that kind of per­son any­more. I really didn’t. So that was my “Moment”.

And every enter­prise I’ve ever star­ted or been invol­ved with, had its Moment as well. That moment where you finally decide not to cut cor­ners, not to make excu­ses, even if you can get away with it. Even if 99% of other busi­nes­ses wouldn’t have bothered.

These moments are gold dust, they really are.

Has your busi­ness had its “Moment” yet? If not, what can you do to make it hap­pen soo­ner? Serious question.

[Update: Molly made a lovely point in the comments:]

The Moment is a con­fluence of empathy, unders­tan­ding and cla­rity that ena­bles you to ele­vate your­self to your next stage of deve­lop­ment. I have a true Moment about once a year, and it falls within a dif­fe­rent cate­gory each time (ie. Paren­ting, per­so­nal, professional).

[Backs­tory: About Hugh. E-mail Hugh. Twit­ter. Limi­ted Edi­tion Prints. Car­toon Archive. News­let­ter. Book. Inter­viewEssen­tial Rea­ding:Everything You Always Wan­ted To Know About ‘Cube Gre­na­des’ But Were Afraid To Ask.”]

October 27, 2009

more thoughts on “evil plans”

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Now that my Octo­ber tra­vels are over, I’m sit­ting at my desk again, wor­king on my second book, EVIL PLANS. Here are some notes:

1. The defi­ni­tion of an “EVIL PLAN” is, quite simply, a great idea that the world isn’t quite ready for yet, or at least, doesn’t think it is. Think of all the world-changing ideas that met resis­tance when they first came out. The motor car (“What’s wrong with a good horse?”). The telephone (“Hey, if someone wants to speak to me, they can damn well come and visit me at my office, or write me a let­ter.”). Uni­ver­sal Edu­ca­tion (“We can’t have com­mo­ners lear­ning how to read– it’ll give them all these fancy ideas they have no busi­ness thin­king!”). Per­so­nal Com­pu­ters (“The world is per­fectly happy with $5 million main­fra­mes, Lad­die.”). Women’s Suf­frage (“Women? Voting? But they’re not men­tally sta­ble enough to choose a good leader!”).

2. Every­body needs  their own EVIL PLAN. Because that’s our tic­ket off the tread­mill, the nine-to-five, the wor­king for The Man. Being a wage slave in the post-industrial world sucks. Besi­des, the lat­ter doesn’t pay very well.

3. Ever­yone needs to find mea­ning in the brief time they’re living on this pla­net. Besi­des Love– friends, family, babies, your fellow man etc– I believe the best way to achieve that is to find a way of making a living that (A) pays the bills and (B) crea­tes something that you can believe in. We are hap­piest when the work we do ful­fills a sense of pur­pose. This isn’t roc­ket science. This is just an EVIL PLAN to get our sorry asses out of the salt mine and on to doing something that matters.

4. EVIL PLANS are not really “Evil”, of course. Maybe “Impish” would be a more accu­rate term. But calling it “Evil” is really pretty “Impish”, so hey, it works. There is something rather mischie­vous about having something up your sleeve that will sur­prise every­body even­tually– something that will carry “the joy­fully unex­pec­ted” to a place it wasn’t before.

5. My good friend, John T Unger once said, “Pro­bably the easiest way to create good in this world, is by star­ting a small busi­ness that makes cool stuff.” I totally agree. That’s how I’ve cho­sen to spend my life; the point of EVIL PLANS is to reach out to those who have done the same. There are MILLIONS of us. It’s damn exciting.

6. “It’s not just enough to make money. One needs Per­so­nal Sove­reignty as well.” My Scot­tish grand­father was poor as dirt his whole life. But he died a free and proud man, and loved by count­less many. One thing Grandpa didn’t like, was being told what to do by other peo­ple. Espe­cially bureauc­rats. “Wee Man­nies”, he called them. Small men who used their State-given autho­rity to push big­ger men around. They never really pushed Grandpa around, though– frankly, they weren’t that dumb. As I get older, the more I rea­lize how much I take after Grandpa Mac­Leod. Which is why I own my own busi­ness, which is why I would never do well in a large cor­po­ra­tion. I don’t like having bos­ses. I don’t like being told what to do. Again, there are millions of peo­ple out there who feel the same. Again, it’s exciting.

7. I’m not wri­ting a “How-To” book. A library of How-To books won’t tell you as much as the follo­wing sen­tence: “Work your ass off for twenty years and THEN, JUST MAYBE you’ll finally get a fric­kin’ clue.” Like my first book, IGNORE EVERYBODY, I’m just com­pi­ling a list of all the stuff that has hel­ped me over the years. But it’s true– a little talent & a good work ethic goes a lot farther than a lot of talent & a poor work ethic. As a lot of my hapless, talented-but-lazy friends found out far too late.

8. I’ve been an artist, I’ve been an entre­pre­neur. Some­ti­mes it’s hard to tell the dif­fe­rence– they’re far more simi­lar than the popu­lar myths would have us believe. A forty­so­mething musi­cian sent me an email recently. He told me that, although his life for the most part has been a happy one– good health, lovely wife, great kids, good friends, nice house, etc– his career has always been a bit foggy for him, like he was never sure what would hap­pen next. I replied, “No worries, your situa­tion hap­pens A LOT with crea­tive peo­ple, even among the super-creative-successful types. The never-ending fog of being an artist.” Whether we’re tal­king art or being an entre­pre­neur, “The Fog” is always with us. There is no cure, there is only buil­ding up a tole­rance. And a good sense of humor helps, as well.

9. I think human beings inhe­rently want to do “Something That Mat­ters”. I think it’s in our DNA. I think the peo­ple who say they don’t want do something that mat­ters are liars. I also think having an EVIL PLAN cons­tantly in the back of our minds– quit­ting our day job and ope­ning a bar, wri­ting the Great Ame­ri­can Novel, wha­te­ver– is also in our DNA. EVIL PLANS is a medi­ta­tion about finally waking the hell up and going off to do something meaningful.

10. Life is an adven­ture. EVIL PLANS is my way of pro­ving the pre­ce­ding sen­tence correct. And the peo­ple who want to prove me wrong? They’re wel­come to try– even if they’ll pro­bably fail. Screw ‘em anyway.

[Backs­tory: About Hugh. E-mail Hugh. Work with Hugh. Twit­ter. Car­toon Archive. News­let­ter. Book. Inter­view One. Inter­view Two. EVIL PLANS. Limi­ted Edi­tion Prints. Essen­tial Rea­ding:Everything You Always Wan­ted To Know About ‘Cube Gre­na­des’ But Were Afraid To Ask.”]

October 26, 2009

rudy’s “sause”: social object case study

rudys091026Rudy’s BBQ, my favo­rite res­tau­rant chain in Texas, ser­ves REALLY good “Sause”, which they also sell by the bottle.

Being the total “Social Object” geek, I’ll say it again– It’s not the sauce in the bottle which makes the Rudy’s “Sause” brand inte­res­ting– it’s the social inte­rac­tion that hap­pens around it that’s interesting.

It’s fun to go to Rudy’s with your friends to talk and eat. It’s fun to buy some ribs at the super­mar­ket, get the smo­ker in the back yard fired up, douse the meat with Rudy’s Sause, fill up the coo­ler with beer, crank up the Willie Nel­son and invite some friends over.

And yes, if Rudy’s suc­ked, if Rudy’s BBQ sauce suc­ked, it would be less fun. And so we wouldn’t buy it; we’d go with something else. It’s the friends and fun we’re actually paying for– the human inte­rac­tion– not the red stuff in the bottle.

Too many brand mana­gers ask the ques­tion, “What mes­sage do I have to craft in order to get peo­ple to buy my pro­duct?” It’s a dead end. A far more use­ful and pro­fi­ta­ble ques­tion would be, “What can I do to make my cus­to­mers’ lives more inte­res­ting and meaningful?”

And “Mea­ning­ful” always has a social dyna­mic. We find mea­ning via our rela­tionships with our fellow crea­tu­res. “Peo­ple mat­ter. Objects don’t.”

A bottle of bar­be­cue sauce isn’t going to ins­tantly change anyone’s life for the bet­ter. But that 4-hour-long con­ver­sa­tion with an old friend, sha­ring a plate of ribs and bris­ket, with some Shi­ner Bock… Well, that might. So you want your pro­duct to be there when it hap­pens; you want your pro­duct to be around during your cus­to­mers’ sig­ni­fi­cant moments.

Rudy’s unders­tands this. How about you?

P.S. If that lat­ter “Inte­res­ting & Mea­ning­ful” ques­tion sounds like a hard one to ans­wer, that’s because it is. There’s a rea­son why the com­pa­nies who manage to pull it off on a fairly con­sis­tent basis –Apple, Nike etc– are worth tens of billions.

[Backs­tory: About Hugh. E-mail Hugh. Work with Hugh. Twit­ter. Car­toon Archive. News­let­ter. Book. Inter­view One. Inter­view Two. EVIL PLANS. Limi­ted Edi­tion Prints. Essen­tial Rea­ding:Everything You Always Wan­ted To Know About ‘Cube Gre­na­des’ But Were Afraid To Ask.”]

the main point of the internet

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[Update:] Afterthought by Mark Earls:

But the impor­tant thing — and the really revo­lu­tio­nary stuff at play here — is that this kind of (Inter­net) tech­no­logy des­troys many of the cul­tu­ral, eco­no­mic and poli­tic bra­kes on our fun­da­men­tally social nature.

[Backs­tory: About Hugh. E-mail Hugh. Twit­ter. Limi­ted Edi­tion Prints. Car­toon Archive. News­let­ter. Book. Inter­viewEssen­tial Rea­ding:Everything You Always Wan­ted To Know About ‘Cube Gre­na­des’ But Were Afraid To Ask.”]

October 25, 2009

back from toronto: “passion is social”

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[Outside the venue, 6pm: John St., Toronto, 22nd Octo­ber, 2008.]

Just got back from a brief, 2-night stay in Toronto. I was there for Mesh, where I gave the key­note. Here are some notes:

1. I tal­ked a lot abut social objects, and the fact that I think “Pas­sion Is Social”. It was a good crowd, with  lot of cor­po­rate PR and adver­ti­sing types. When dea­ling with cor­po­rate types, I always run up against the same ques­tion at least once or twice: “I work in a cor­po­rate envi­ron­ment, I get paid to pull levers on behalf of my client. Please show me where the lever is in the Web 2.0 space”. To which I always ans­wer, “I can’t tell you where the lever is, because it doesn’t exist.” Then I tell them, “You don’t create social objects by pulling levers; you create social objects by crea­ting social ges­tu­res.” Then I tell them, “Virals don’t start life out as virals, they start life out as gifts. And gifts are always in con­flict with their own value.” Then I tell them, it’s a brand’s job to be inte­res­ting. And what makes a brand inte­res­ting is the human inte­rac­tion around the brand, not the inhe­rent qua­li­ties of the brand itself. Some peo­ple get it, some peo­ple don’t, some peo­ple kinda get it, even if they’d rather not.

I said a lot more than that, of course, but this is what I came away with. All in all, it was a lovely little con­fe­rence, and I REALLY appre­ciate being invited.

2. At the event we had some of my prints on dis­play, which I ended up selling more than a few of. Big Thanks to Amrita Chan­dra for hel­ping me out with that.

3. I really like Toronto. Hard to believe a city that big, diverse and cul­tu­rally vibrant could be that laid back.

4. On Fri­day I had break­fast in Toronto, lunch in Manhat­tan, din­ner in DFW air­port, and a night­cap in my hotel in El Paso, Texas. A long day, to say the least. I had to pop in to my printer’s in New York quickly to sign the Port­fo­lio Num­ber Two prints, which will be star­ting to ship out next week. Manhat­tan added an extra half-day to my tra­vels, but it saved a lot of time and hassle in the long run.

5. Octo­ber has been a very busy month for me for tra­ve­ling. Drove back and forth from the air­port three times this month already (a 440 mile round trip from Alpine, Texas). Now that’s the current tra­ve­ling phase is pretty much over, I’m hun­ke­ring down to get on with the Cube Gre­nade pro­ject. That, and the second book to get finished. No rest for the wic­ked etc.

[Bonus Link:] A WONDERFUL sli­deshow re. The Inter­net & The Adver­ti­sing Busi­ness from Toronto’s David Gilles­pie:

[Backs­tory: About Hugh. E-mail Hugh. Work with Hugh. Twit­ter. Car­toon Archive. News­let­ter. Book. Inter­view One. Inter­view Two. EVIL PLANS. Limi­ted Edi­tion Prints. Essen­tial Rea­ding:Everything You Always Wan­ted To Know About ‘Cube Gre­na­des’ But Were Afraid To Ask.”]

October 18, 2009

i’m not delusional

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There’s been plenty of art made on the sub­ject of busi­ness and capi­ta­lism, as this recent article in The Eco­no­mist will attest.

Though as I was dra­wing this catoon ear­lier this mor­ning I got thin­king, the sub­ject of The Entre­pre­neur? Far less coverage.

That might have to change. I might have to be the one to change it. Just sayin’…

[Backs­tory: About Hugh. E-mail Hugh. Work with Hugh. Twit­ter. Car­toon Archive. News­let­ter. Book. Inter­view One. Inter­view Two. EVIL PLANS. Limi­ted Edi­tion Prints. Essen­tial Rea­ding:Everything You Always Wan­ted To Know About ‘Cube Gre­na­des’ But Were Afraid To Ask.”]

October 16, 2009

portfolio number three: pre-order

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[“Ignore Every­body”: Lar­ger ver­sion here.]

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[“New York”. Lar­ger ver­sion here.]

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[“We Need To Talk”. Lar­ger ver­sion here.]

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[“Corinthians”. Lar­ger ver­sion here.]

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[“Port­fo­lio Num­ber One”, han­ging in a collector’s office in Germany.]

After the suc­cess of Port­fo­lio Num­ber One and Port­fo­lio Num­ber Two, we’ll be publishing Port­fo­lio Num­ber Three in about a month.

11“x14”, Rives-Arches French made paper, hand-printed, limited-edition seri­graphs, hand-signed and num­be­red by me, i.e. the exact same for­mat as before.

This port­fo­lio will be sma­ller ver­sions of prints we have already published on the gallery. Peo­ple like the big­ger prints (“Pur­ple Cow”, for exam­ple, is 39“x28”), but small ones have their place, too (espe­cially if you like han­ging art in downs­tairs bath­rooms etc.).

Also, with the Holi­day Sea­son coming up, these wee “Cube Gre­na­des” will make a lovely gift for peo­ple. Because of their rela­ti­vely small size, you don’t have to worry so much about where the per­son recei­ving it is going to find room to hang it etc.

You can buy the entire port­fo­lio of four prints, fra­med, for $495 plus Ship­ping & Hand­ling. Or you can buy them indi­vi­dually, fra­med, for $150 each, plus Ship­ping & Handling.

I’ll announce when the Port­fo­lio is up on the gallery site and ready to go, or you can reserve yours now by clic­king on one of the two Pay­Pal Depo­sit but­tons below (one for the port­fo­lio of four, one for buying a print indi­vi­dually etc.), and we’ll put you first on the list. The other advan­tage of using the Pay­Pal but­ton ins­tead of wai­ting for the offe­ring to go live on the gallery web­site is, the ear­lier you place the depo­sit, the easier it is to reserve a cer­tain num­ber of an edi­tion you may care to have.

The plan is to have these prin­ted, sig­ned and ship­ped out within the month, so plenty of time before Christ­mas and Hannuka.

I hope you like what you see, this going to be a great little series. If you have any ques­tions, please feel free to leave a com­ment below. Thank You.

[TO PURCHASE PORTFOLIO #3 — $75.00 DEPOSIT]

[TO PURCHASE AN INDIVIDUAL “PORTFOLIO # 3″ PRINT — $50.00 DEPOSIT: Once the prints are up on the gallery site, we’ll e-mail you to con­firm which one of the four you want spe­ci­fi­cally etc.]

[Backs­tory: About Hugh. E-mail Hugh. Work with Hugh. Twit­ter. Car­toon Archive. News­let­ter. Book. Inter­view One. Inter­view Two. EVIL PLANS. Limi­ted Edi­tion Prints. Essen­tial Rea­ding:Everything You Always Wan­ted To Know About ‘Cube Gre­na­des’ But Were Afraid To Ask.”]

October 12, 2009

“continuity”

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Back in July, I inter­vie­wed Hazel Doo­ney, a very suc­cess­ful Aus­tra­lian artist. Asking her about how she mana­ges her busi­ness, she made a very lucid point, one that has really stuck with me:

But none of it works without dis­ci­pline. Early on in my career, I was told that suc­cess deman­ded one thing above all others: tur­ning up. Tur­ning up every bloody day, regard­less of everything.

Besi­des the famous Woody Allen quote, this reminds me of when I wash about 18, living in Edin­burgh. I was tal­king to the car­too­nist, Hugh Dodd, who was a regu­lar in the bar I wor­ked in at the time. I asked him what was the sec­ret of being a suc­cess­ful car­too­nist, in his opinion.

“Con­ti­nuity,” he said. “Anyone can draw a good car­toon… ONCE. But not ever­yone can draw a good car­toon, every day, day-in-day-out. It’s something you have to work VERY HARD at for many years before you even get close…”

Heh. Many years later, and I still don’t feel anywhere near “close”. Does any­body? But that’s what keeps us going, I suppose…

[Backs­tory: About Hugh. E-mail Hugh. Work with Hugh. Twit­ter. Car­toon Archive. News­let­ter. Book. Inter­view One. Inter­view Two. EVIL PLANS. Limi­ted Edi­tion Prints. Essen­tial Rea­ding:Everything You Always Wan­ted To Know About ‘Cube Gre­na­des’ But Were Afraid To Ask.”]

gapingvoid gallery gets a facelift

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The gaping­void Gallery has a new look. Go see…

[Backs­tory: About Hugh. E-mail Hugh. Work with Hugh. Twit­ter. Car­toon Archive. News­let­ter. Book. Inter­view One. Inter­view Two. EVIL PLANS. Limi­ted Edi­tion Prints. Essen­tial Rea­ding:Everything You Always Wan­ted To Know About ‘Cube Gre­na­des’ But Were Afraid To Ask.”]

October 9, 2009

party aftermath…


[The You­Tube video, cour­tesy of Sandi Bachom.]

[GREAT Flickr sli­deshow cour­tesy of David Par­met].

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[Seth and I sig­ning some Pur­ple Cow prints, with Desert­Manhat­tan in the back­ground. Photo cour­tesy of Ceci­lia.]

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[Peo­ple having fun etc.]

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[David Par­met: “When I saw this print last night, I knew I had to have it. And I knew exactly who it was for.”]

After weeks of pre­pa­ra­tion, some of it quite nerve-racking, the Pur­ple Cow print party is finally over.

What can I say? It was a blast. Every­body see­med to have a great time. More than one per­son came up to me and said it was a lot more fun than any art ope­ning they’d ever been to. You can see what peo­ple are saying on Twit­ter (for the time being, any­way) by follo­wing the #pur­ple­cow hashtag…

Thanks to Seth Godin for being such a gra­cious co-host, thanks to every­body who hel­ped out, thanks to every­body who came along for it.

A spe­cial big thanks to Martha Burzynski, Carlo Balis­trieri, and Ceci­lia Feret for volun­tee­ring their time to help us out at the door. That was so kind of you, seriously. Thanks to David Par­met and Sandi Bachom for the great pho­tos and videos [pos­ted above].

And a final thank-you to my busi­ness collea­gues, Jason and Laura, who wor­ked tire­lessly for SO LONG behind the sce­nes to make sure the eve­ning was nothing short of a mas­sive suc­cess. You guys rock. Ok, I’m going to go off and sleep for a week…

[Backs­tory: About Hugh. E-mail Hugh. Work with Hugh. Twit­ter. Car­toon Archive. News­let­ter. Book. Inter­view One. Inter­view Two. EVIL PLANS. Limi­ted Edi­tion Prints. Essen­tial Rea­ding:Everything You Always Wan­ted To Know About ‘Cube Gre­na­des’ But Were Afraid To Ask.”]

October 7, 2009

the “commitment” cartoon, 1998

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“Com­mit­ment” [First published here.]

Within 1 week of mee­ting this per­son you rea­lize that not only have you found your soul­mate, but you’ve found your soul­mate who likes to have sex 4 times a day in the bed, on the dining table, on the kitchen floor, in the chan­ging rooms at Bloomingdale’s etc.

Within 2 weeks you’re already tal­king about moving in together.

Within 3 weeks you’re tal­king about having babies together.

Within 4 weeks you rea­lize this per­son is a com­plete psychopath.

Within 5 weeks this per­son also thinks you’re a com­plete psychopath.

Within 6 weeks you’re sit­ting at a res­tau­rant with an old friend who is giving you the “How come you only call me when you’re sin­gle” speech.

Last night I was in the West Village bar I drew that car­toon in, back in 1998. The car­toon ended up in the book

[Backs­tory: About Hugh. E-mail Hugh. Work with Hugh. Twit­ter. Car­toon Archive. News­let­ter. Book. Inter­view One. Inter­view Two. EVIL PLANS. Limi­ted Edi­tion Prints. Essen­tial Rea­ding:Everything You Always Wan­ted To Know About ‘Cube Gre­na­des’ But Were Afraid To Ask.”]

greetings from new york

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[Bill San­ders over at Real Bran­ding in San Fran­cisco just sent me this photo of his “Create or Die” print, han­ging in his office, right next to his Ansel Adams photo. Thanks, Bill! #cube­gre­na­des]

I’m in The Big Apple, run­ning around like a tor­men­ted luna­tic, get­ting all the last-minute-stuff done for the Pur­ple Cow print party on Thurs­day [Tomo­rrow night!]. So far it hasn’t been too stress­ful, he lied…

[Backs­tory: About Hugh. E-mail Hugh. Work with Hugh. Twit­ter. Car­toon Archive. News­let­ter. Book. Inter­view One. Inter­view Two. EVIL PLANS. Limi­ted Edi­tion Prints. Essen­tial Rea­ding:Everything You Always Wan­ted To Know About ‘Cube Gre­na­des’ But Were Afraid To Ask.”]

October 4, 2009

today i spent most of the morning working on “gapingvoid’s big monster pimping page”…

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Yeah, well, a man’s got a living to make…

P.S. I drew the above car­toon in 1998. Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose etc.

[Backs­tory: About Hugh. E-mail Hugh. Work with Hugh. Twit­ter. Car­toon Archive. News­let­ter. Book. Inter­view One. Inter­view Two. EVIL PLANS. Limi­ted Edi­tion Prints. Essen­tial Rea­ding:Everything You Always Wan­ted To Know About ‘Cube Gre­na­des’ But Were Afraid To Ask.”]

if you want more blog traffic…

sms0910

[Backs­tory: About Hugh. E-mail Hugh. Work with Hugh. Twit­ter. Car­toon Archive. News­let­ter. Book. Inter­view One. Inter­view Two. EVIL PLANS. Limi­ted Edi­tion Prints. Essen­tial Rea­ding:Everything You Always Wan­ted To Know About ‘Cube Gre­na­des’ But Were Afraid To Ask.”]

o lord

olord001

[Backs­tory: About Hugh. E-mail Hugh. Work with Hugh. Twit­ter. Car­toon Archive. News­let­ter. Book. Inter­view One. Inter­view Two. EVIL PLANS. Limi­ted Edi­tion Prints. Essen­tial Rea­ding:Everything You Always Wan­ted To Know About ‘Cube Gre­na­des’ But Were Afraid To Ask.”]

“bleed and feed”: hey, it works for me.

toomany2123

As a wor­king artist, I divide my day into two parts. “Bleed and Feed”.

The Bleed Part. Taking care of busi­ness. Doing work for my clients. Wor­king on new Cube Gre­nade ideas etc. Trying to find new clients etc. Trying to get my bills paid etc etc.

The Feed Part. I go and make dra­wings for myself. Com­ple­tely non-commercial. Often no more than dood­ling in my sketch­book. Just me and a pen, trying to feed my well. Often accom­pa­nied by a nice glass of red.

I try to do both every day. “Bleed” gets my mor­ning and after­noons. “Feed” hap­pens mostly after din­ner, before bedtime.

Yeah, I guess this is a varia­tion on The Sex & Cash Theory. It’s all good.

All suc­cess­ful artists “Bleed and Feed”, in their own way. The ones who don’t– who just try to do one or the other– tend to burn out rather quickly. That’s just Reality.

[Backs­tory: About Hugh. E-mail Hugh. Work with Hugh. Twit­ter. Car­toon Archive. News­let­ter. Book. Inter­view One. Inter­view Two. EVIL PLANS. Limi­ted Edi­tion Prints. Essen­tial Rea­ding:Everything You Always Wan­ted To Know About ‘Cube Gre­na­des’ But Were Afraid To Ask.”]

October 3, 2009

the red zone and the gray zone

nyny0910

Some­body just emai­led me to ask, why did I use red and gray for the New York print?

Besi­des aesthe­tic rea­sons [Red & Gray gives the piece a sort of retro-hipster Ben Shahn vibe, which I like], here’s a little more insight.

I have a thing I call “The Red Zone”. The Red Zone is the state of cons­cious­ness when you are fully alive– when you are crea­ting something, making art, making love, watching the sun set, wha­te­ver. When all your synap­ses are firing.

I have a thing I call “The Gray Zone”. The Gray Zone is the state of cons­cious­ness when you are NOT fully alive– when you’re just bum­bling along, half-awake, sleep­wal­king through life. We’ve all been there, pro­bably a lot more often than we’d care to admit.

“New York” is not just a geo­graphi­cal place to me. It is also a metaphor for the archety­pal urban experience.

And I find with this archety­pal expe­rience, the battle bet­ween the Red Zone and The Gray Zone to domi­nate one’s mind is at its most intense.

Art Class over for today, Kid­dies! Rock on.

[Backs­tory: About Hugh. E-mail Hugh. Work with Hugh. Twit­ter. Car­toon Archive. News­let­ter. Book. Inter­view One. Inter­view Two. EVIL PLANS. Limi­ted Edi­tion Prints. Essen­tial Rea­ding:Everything You Always Wan­ted To Know About ‘Cube Gre­na­des’ But Were Afraid To Ask.”]

“art for the real world”

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[“Port­fo­lio Num­ber One”, han­ging in a collector’s office in Germany.]

I’ve been pla­ying around with this line  a lot recently: “Art For The Real World”.

I’m inte­res­ted in how art affects what some peo­ple call “The Real World”- the work­place, the world of work, the world of busi­ness. That’s what the Cube Gre­nade idea is all about.

My adver­ti­sing buddy, Vinny Warren, grew up in a Roman Catho­lic hou­sehold in Ire­land. He was telling me that his parents would always have a few reli­gious icons han­ging on the wall somewhere. Pic­tu­res of Saints, Mary & Baby Jesus, that kind of thing.

Why? Says Vinny, “To remind us who we were.”

Art that reminds you who you are. Exactly. What applies in Catho­lic hou­seholds also applies in pla­ces of busi­ness. Sha­red Mea­ning. Exactly. Social Objects. Exactly.

I don’t think any of this is roc­ket science…

[Update:] John lea­ves a good com­ment below:

I think surroun­ding our­sel­ves with icons, art, books and such to remind our­sel­ves of who we are, where we have been and where we hope to go is essen­tial to kee­ping our hearts alive. It is too easy to lose our way. My office is full of these things.

[Backs­tory: About Hugh. E-mail Hugh. Work with Hugh. Twit­ter. Car­toon Archive. News­let­ter. Book. Inter­view One. Inter­view Two. EVIL PLANS. Limi­ted Edi­tion Prints. Essen­tial Rea­ding:Everything You Always Wan­ted To Know About ‘Cube Gre­na­des’ But Were Afraid To Ask.”]

October 2, 2009

how ‘cube grenades’ are re-inventing the advertising business [at least for me]

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[Essen­tial Rea­ding: “Everything You Always Wan­ted To Know About ‘Cube Gre­na­des’ But Were Afraid To Ask.”]

Back on 24 Sep­tem­ber, I wrote about how Shit Creek Con­sul­ting had hired me to draw the above “Cube Gre­na­de” for them.

As a car­toon, it works. As a piece of adver­ti­sing, it works. As a piece of com­mu­ni­ca­tion, it works. As a Cube Gre­nade, it works. As a social object, it works. As a con­ver­sa­tion star­ter, it REALLY works. I was happy; so was the client.

Like a lot of blog­gers with an adver­ti­sing back­ground, I have spent a lot of time over the years asking the ques­tion, “What is the future of advertising?”

Sure, in the last decade there’s been a lot of spe­cu­la­tion about how Web 2.0 is going to change EVERYTHING in the industry– everything from put­ting mains­tream agen­cies out of busi­ness, to Goo­gle ruling the world with an iron fist. But in spite of all the talk out there, a defi­ni­tive ans­wer has always remai­ned somewhat elusive.

I think I may have FINALLY had a major breakthrough:

These last few weeks, while I have been VERY busy wor­king on some new Cube Gre­nade busi­ness, it occurs to me that the Cube Gre­nade con­cept somehow mana­ges to get both my back­grounds in car­too­ning and adver­ti­sing wor­king seam­lessly together.

The Cube Gre­na­des aren’t really desig­ned to “sell”, like tra­di­tio­nal adver­ti­sing. They’re desig­ned to hit a nerve and start con­ver­sa­tions. Maybe that will help lead to sales down the road, but it’s not the pri­mary pur­pose. Its pri­mary pur­pose takes a more indi­rect, perhaps more dis­rup­tive path.

So what is the future of adver­ti­sing? Well, I don’t know what yours is, but mine is The Cube Gre­nade. If that’s what you want, you come to me. If you want something dif­fe­rent, go elsewhere.

Some peo­ple will get this, some peo­ple won’t, but that’s pro­bably a good thing. Rock on.

[If you think the Cube Gre­nade idea could help your busi­ness, as always, feel free to e-mail me, Thanks.]

[Backs­tory: About Hugh. E-mail Hugh. Work with Hugh. Twit­ter. Car­toon Archive. News­let­ter. Book. Inter­view One. Inter­view Two. EVIL PLANS. Limi­ted Edi­tion Prints. Essen­tial Rea­ding:Everything You Always Wan­ted To Know About ‘Cube Gre­na­des’ But Were Afraid To Ask.”]

October 1, 2009

“a good customer base is the best marketing department there is”

zzzzsteak12

In a rather ran­dom moment of cla­rity, I wrote this line on Twit­ter a cou­ple of weeks ago:

“A good cus­to­mer base is the best mar­ke­ting depart­ment there is.”

One thing I remem­ber fondly about my college bud­dies, back in the day: Not only did they all spend a lot of time and energy lis­te­ning to Gra­te­ful Dead records and atten­ding Gra­te­ful Dead con­certs, they also spent a lot of time and energy trying to get me to do the same.

Though I never became much of a Dead fan in the end, it sure wasn’t for my friends’ lack of trying. Their mojo may not have wor­ked on me, but hey, it wor­ked on plenty other impres­sio­na­ble young peo­ple, so it’s all good.

My college bud­dies were self-appointed team mem­bers of one of the grea­test mar­ke­ting depart­ments in his­tory: The Deadheads.

So who are your cus­to­mers? Are they your mar­ke­ting depart­ment? If they’re not, they should be, yes?

[This reminds me: Seth Godin cited The Deadheads in his won­der­ful book, “Tri­bes”. I inter­vie­wed him here about the book etc.]

[Backs­tory: About Hugh. E-mail Hugh. Work with Hugh. Twit­ter. Car­toon Archive. News­let­ter. Book. Inter­view One. Inter­view Two. EVIL PLANS. Limi­ted Edi­tion Prints. Essen­tial Rea­ding:Everything You Always Wan­ted To Know About ‘Cube Gre­na­des’ But Were Afraid To Ask.”]