For our project, we had to use our own original imagery, whether it was illustrated or photographed or both. It was an interesting experience; I had to be very creative with how I set up the shot. Having very little prior product photography experience, I had fun setting up the shot and playing around with the lighting and angles. I taped two pieces of presentation paper together and used it as my backdrop.

This is the final shot I went with (in the first draft of our project, anyway).

It was a great learning experience. I’m looking forward to taking more advertising photography.

In my research on “issues” related print advertisement, I came across a blog that criticized the use of powerhouse advertising agencies in their pro-bono work for nonprofits; this particular person felt that the only goal these types of agencies have in mind is to win awards, but they do not help advocacy or emphasize call to action. It was an interesting read to learn that even advertising agencies can suffer from losing sight of their goal. He cites many ads and calls them out on being too abstract and not being direct enough. While I agreed with him on some examples, there are others still that I thought had enough clarity to match its visual impact, such as the one displayed above. It’s creative but drives a point about hunger. The ideas connect to me, and there’s a call to action in the end. It makes me think more about to what point we can abstract an ad until it becomes meaningless, or worse, turns against, the intention of the ad. The balance between making getting donors to give to a nonprofit versus not is very delicate.

The first part of our project process involved ideation and concept development. We were to create 20 sketches for pros for our issue, as well as for the cons. My poor partner had to drive all the way out to West LA to meet up with me (and he lives in South Gate!) to make this complete. After our first review, we have to create another 20.

What I learned from this first iteration is that interesting copy is much easier to come up with when you have sketches and visual concepts. It was fun to try to think of clever copy that could potentially capture the reader’s attention that would also go well with our visuals.

And, lastly, I learned that concept development makes me you look at ads with a critical eye; what about them makes them so great? What makes it a bad ad? Most people pick up an ad and say they like it or hate it without much reason; I’ve come to analyze the concepts of the ads I look at and to figure out what makes it clever, thoughtful or interesting.

However, the feedback we got was that it may not be controversial enough, and it’d be difficult to position the issue with both pros and cons for it–a requirement that needed to be fulfilled for this project. So I think we can reposition ourselves as addressing the issue of Fair Trade, rather than specifically child slave labor in chocolate.

I just had the misfortune of experiencing what it’s like to be a little too simple with your designs: I nearly went deaf. No worries–everything is okay, I can hear. But for that half a second that the volume was what appeared to be at the highest, my ears are in pain.

You see, on a Mac, changing the volume level precisely is not afforded in the keyboard. As a baseline, I like for all my applications to be on max volume, and then adjust the system accordingly. But when I use the keyboard to adjust my volume, it adjusts in notches, so often times I want a volume level that exists in between the notches that are offered.

Well, I’ve been teased at work for not using the OS volume control that can be found in the taskbar in the upper right. So, I used it, and guess what?

THERE ARE NO INDICATORS OF WHAT MAX OR MIN IS.

It might be obvious to some people that a knob being at the “lower” end means “lowest,” and a knob at the higher end means “highest,” but it wasn’t obvious to me; after all, direction is relative, and I ALWAYS go from top to bottom as my lowest to highest on controls. I’m not really sure where I got it from, but there ya go.

So imagine the fury I felt when I accidentally damaged my eardrums for that half second, thinking that the top is lowest volume.

For the record, I may have been an idiot to think that the volume would go from lowest to highest (top to bottom); however, there are NO indicators on the volume control to indicate where the volume levels are! The icon for volume is at the top, setting it as (to me, anyway) the baseline for minimum volume. I’m pretty sure that if the volume bar existed above the volume icon instead, I wouldn’t have made the same mistake.

This is when simple can be too simple; if something like volume control doesn’t have the proper indicators to prevent people from second guessing its function, it can cause serious harm, like it just did to me.

EDIT: It was brought to my attention that the soundwaves on the volume icon changes as you go higher, but it takes an extraordinary amount of volume change in order to see one wave added. BAD DESIGN, APPLE. And painful, too :\

But the kind of issues I’m talking about isn’t the kind you’re thinking. I’m not saying I’ve got emotional baggage or psychological problems (though I’m sure that’s somewhat debatable); I’m saying I have a lot of issues I care deeply about, causes that I am sometimes perhaps a little too passionate about.

Really, what it comes down to is that I expect everyone to know everything about everything. It’s an unfair expectation, but I’m always surprised when people tell me they’re not aware. And then I rejoice (ever so momentarily) for that chance to educate someone about something, whether it’s concerning gay rights, open internet, ethical consumer choices, or video game-related issues. But sometimes, I forget that I should backpedal a bit and consider the consequences of what I say. I always believe in what I say, and I always pick and choose my words very carefully, especially when discussing these things with people to whom I am not close.

Therefore, in my earnest to fully research a topic and to read as much as I can about it, my partner in class and I have decided on something we’re both uninformed about, but are aware of–cocoa beans. I will be posting our research and thoughts on this topic, as well as sketches, drafts and final works. Hopefully it will be just as educating for you (the anonymous reader) as it will be for us!

I have the opposite experience; my design practices only root in the web—a highly subjective medium, one that constantly shifts and changes according to the means with which the user is accessing the experience. I thrive in functionality and beautiful code, and often designed around functionality and technical execution, rather than with what I often refer to as “unicorns and rainbows”—the idea of a design with no limit of possibilities, that anything can and will happen (which I absolutely loathe, but that’s neither here nor there).

Naturally, when embarking upon this journey that is Advertising Art Direction, a class I’m currently taking, I’ve found myself reflecting on these matters as they relate to interactive design. I have yet to work with an interactive art director, but it makes me think about the decisions I have made and would make in the future with regards to how a website/interactive experience should feel and behave.

I will be posting those thoughts here, as well as my findings for examples of interesting art direction in interactive design, although the focus of the class is more on traditional media.

How could anyone write an afterword if there is no foreword/prologue/plot, I don’t know, but I’m about to attempt this wizardry on this ill-kept blog.

What really inspired me to pick up the pen—I mean, open my blog’s WordPress dashboard—isn’t just the fact that I just attended An Event Apart in Seattle, but that this experience was a completely different experience from the last time I attended AEA. It was to be expected; it’s been almost five years since then.

I’m not going to write about what I learned on a technical level (you can see that from A Feed Apart); rather, I wanted to write about something more personal than just devious applications of CSS3 and best practices for content strategy. I want to write about what I experienced emotionally, and what a personal trip this had been for me.

Why was this such a different trip?

I’m here for myself. What I mean by that is that I am not on the company’s dime for this trip (that I know of, anyway). I’d debated with myself heavily over attending, putting off the final decision to go until the last minute, when I read the tweet that AEA: Seattle was down to 5 passes. Even while going through the checkout process, I was still debating with myself. I knew that I risked not being able to my work for pay for this trip, but I also felt so strongly about its educational benefits that I decided to take the plunge. Sure, I’d miss class, and sure, I’d be out ~$2,000, but I viewed it as an investment into my career. As a contractor, I felt it would be really important for me to attend. But, because of that …

I attended alone. As in, I didn’t know anyone when I flew out to Seattle. At least when I went in San Francisco, I knew a couple people prior. Also, I was from the area; it wouldn’t be a big deal, even if I didn’t know anyone.

But here I am, in Seattle, alone.

“But surely Hau,” you might think, “it’s not that big a deal, is it? People travel alone all the time!” And yes, I’m sure there were many folks in attendance who came alone, but you see, here’s the thing:

I hate being alone. Detest, despise, dislike; any manner of disapproval, that’s how I felt about being alone, especially in a far away place. While it’s true that I had basically made Seattle my third home thanks to almost 5 years of attending Penny Arcade Expo, it was still a daunting thought Instead of being excited about this trip, I was met with a lot of apprehension and anxiety. Most people in my position would just complain about how much money they’d be out; I was complaining about how I would not know anyone. However, I knew if I didn’t bite the bullet and go, I’d regret it. Immensely.

Which leads me to the point of this post.

I left Los Angeles feeling tired, a little sad, but mostly unexcited. I’d land in Seattle on Sunday afternoon at noon, and from there I could go about exploring the bits of Seattle that I wouldn’t normally get to see. I had all this … freedom. I walked around Belltown, Pike Place, tried Top Pot doughnuts, ran errands at Rite Aid, and came back to my room to unwind a bit.

I was this close to not attending the Typekit pre-AEA party. Socializing with strangers? Networking? Throwing myself out there? All very exhausting things, if you ask me.

But, in the end, I met many really nice folks. The socializing was actually effortless; I met some really nice people from Montana and Austin, TX; I met a guy from Bellvue (Hello, Derek, if you’re reading this!), and finally, I met a girl from San Francisco named Beth, whom would basically assure me that I was not alone. After walking her part of the way back to her hotel after the party, I passed by her Monday morning during breakfast hour, and she very happily let me sit with her and two others, Brandon and Levi from Omaha, NE. These three would become my AEA friends; we all got along so well, and we were all enormously geeky (and I’m not just talking about code).

Two days later, I’m sitting in my hotel room, packed and ready to catch my absurdly early flight (the shuttle is coming to pick me up at 3:30AM! (Yes! Really!)), typing this entry while listening to The Black Keys’s Brothers album—and I am actually feeling quite melancholic to leave.

I’m not really sure what I expected; I mean, I expected to be blown away by the speakers (and I was!), but on a personal level, I wasn’t sure if I would just end up becoming a lone wolf in a sea of like-minded individuals. I wasn’t certain that I could be entirely happy with going straight back to my room after each day’s session, not attending any of the sponsored parties and in general being entirely anti-social. But, I experienced the opposite. I attended all the events. I made friends. I met the people I admire. And, I ate dinner in a restaurant alone for the first time ever, and it was surprisingly pleasant. Aside from the food being delicious (thumbs up to Local 360!), I learned that yes, there are other people who eat alone, and the locals are nice and will talk to you. Most importantly, I made damn sure that I would at least try my very best to have a fantastic time (and I did!).

<cheese>
So, thank you to everyone who talked to me, to those who kept my company, and in general made this trip memorable and fun! It really meant a lot to me
</cheese>

For breakfast I know, I’m so Asian, but soy sauce/Maggi sauce is so
gooood with eggs!

Posted via email from Hau Incredible! Haha … ha … ha.

Pics after the jump!

Posted via email from Hau Incredible! Haha … ha … ha.