The Catharsis of Band Poster Design (series of delusional and inconsistent clarification)

I design promotional materials and write content, SEO and SMO stuff, and other PR and site management. It’s as living.

I also do local music PR and have been successful with many local artists – and am always trying new tricks of the trade to promote and use my band as a means to experiment with, and enjoy the graphics and image side plus the video promotional techniques.

But I am perplexed with my own graphic design work when self-promoting. Here is an example of one of the digital flyers for my band’s next show (tomorrow). I am a also a photographer (mentored and thrown into two jobs which I had to learn how to overcome the anxiety of doing *whatever

17march

it takes to get the shot*) and thus use my own photos and a variety of programs depending on what device I have at the time and place that I create one. This was made in Photoshop which I have been using as much as possible to learn what I didn’t have access to in Photoshop Elements. I like to create posters. That’s why I started a band in the first place, right?

Of course not.

So after posting this green image of our show tomorrow (above), I thought that this is an aesthetically displeasing work — the rules were broken and it is a poor representation of a music event — in so many ways… and wonder why people are digging it.


Will this grab the attention of someone and possible convert them into a attendee of the event? I mean, my flyers have been used in tshirt designs for shows for clients, and I was asked if this one will be for sale by a fan – so I have to ask – why do designers have crippling self-doubt and why should we expect ourselves to know if we have made an good or bad impression? IMG-3964.png

If only content was as ambiguous. I made a poster for the next show that is one of my favorites of the 100s. It’s good. I received compliments which is the band flyer maker’s reason to live. Will anyone go to the show if they see it? Ask about tshirts? Why is the struggle to promote ourselves visually so cathartic for some of us in bands?

After all, I *know* when I write a song — it’s good or it isn’t going to exist. I don’t question myself. That is why I still get to play my own music — I don’t have the skills or the rock star goddess beauty (well, that’s arguable) and height and boobs. But I know better than to question my compositions and I won’t wonder if I am good at what I write – because I am. Who would play their songs if they didn’t think they were awesome?

So many rhetorical non-questions and ambiguity.

 

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The Joke is On

“Okay,” I said. “I can take a joke.” I began to shuffle down the opposite direction of the atrium corridor and I began to focus on a new plot, but I needed a new persona first, then the intangible and it’s obscurities would be a natural consequence.

In an effort to prove the power of the meaning of words, I will launch my latest metaphysical awareness campaign: Speaking in one-word sentences. And as I waited for my mom to pick me up from school I was reading an essay written by a Hawaiian clown who used to teach French Revolutionary Architecture but decided to write in order to teach and he wrote well for a clown I suppose – as I waited the notion struck me between the lines that this constant quest to transcend the shallow traditional surface of society and judgment, I was not operating inside the function of my mission to master world domination.

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The second time I was administered mouth-to-mouth resuscitation was he second time it wasn’t necessary, and was the event that spurred me to embark immediately to see a specialist.

I always thought of myself as the dangerous type – mentally, obviously.

Hmmm. Life is inconsistent. I picked myself up and put myself down. I was as much a part of the problem as I was the solution as I was to the apathy.

What you expect of someone
something or
someplace
is what you’ll get.

Yeah, WHAT ever. Thanks for explaining THAT one to me, you self-actualized f**king genious, you. ARE YOU LISTENING TO YOURSELF? ….I wish I needed to regurgitate all the selfish-help book epiphanies that I read by a pragmatic spiritually elevated “writer” connect my (thus yours and the -universe-) dots.

When conversations turn into mud and I am being sabotaged by the tactless talkers, I used to terrorize them. Now I am older and I have a fifty-fifty chance that I am going to care anyway; I just sigh and quietly say, “Based on the information you have provided, explain what specific impact you have just made on my life.”

“What are you implying?” is also a fabulous conversation-stopper. My brother and I began to compile a list. Then friends added to it. Someday I will publish it under the self-absorbed section at Barnes and Noble. Soon I will care enough to get angry again.

“That’s an interesting perspective,” my friend C.A. would say when she was confronted by the psychologically stunted.

Self-fulfilling prophecy is determining the meantime what will concern very largely your past and present meantimes.

So my NEXT entry will be My Thoughts on “Nothingness.”

So… how are you going to be noticed when you’re not here?
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put up or shut

down.
prove yourself
passing time
save face
misplaced but you cannot erase
the shame you got
you cannot erase your genes
so write it down
you have no rights
to any rite
and if you find the
answers
i will smile and tell you
congratulations
put it down on paper
so everybody can reference
put it down on paper
so you know
the answers.
az1

Sadly, I didn’t make a break for it until I saw you, thus I couldn’t get far enough away to ever live with myself for being in love with a robot.

Regret

I walked out of the place and haven’t even stopped thinking about your face but I wanted your actual presence so I walked out of that space and that place and I knew more than I wanted to reflect upon. Time is always in a hurry anyway.  Those times we drove home any place and how many years I didn’t waste then or some place.

Now we are years ahead
You have changed and put your hands on a different part and angle of your hips now
I still want to run away from you sometimes
The way these reminders are the best way to not forget the way I haven’t changed
The truth syrup astounds me as much as the last words we exchanged
You were always available to let me down
So thanks for that and I am getting back up
I will take my time and let go of the record collaboration
And the interpretation of love versus hate
Plus the regret that I regret every dayIMG_2030 (2).jpg

I’m looking past the place I filled the tank with using my last known income and you were on the phone and I knew then that the moment I was trampled – and so simply cut –  the empty pain of my every cell deflating and gasping, the air poisoning my lungs, the way someone who falls off a skyscraper may feel – the terror of this being new to me and assuring this was a space I found – not for the last time in life either.

Photo Jul 30, 1 39 55 PM.jpg

I walked over to that space but can’t stop thinking about you.

Wendy Clark Band @ Cheers FRI 01SEPT2017

Event Star Production PresentsSpecial Friday Night Showcase @ Cheers September 1st, 2017 7pm doors 

Wendy Clark Band with Of David

Come discover a new band with your friends at a great live music venue!
21+ event with ID

$5 at the door
Address: 11964 Washington St, Northglenn, CO 80233

Phone: (303) 955-5660

Event sponsored by:

Dragons Eye Photography (Root of All)

Mile High Rock

Graphics by Victor

Blunt Force Stereo at BluntForceStereo.com

Your semi-daily bog

Consider the characteristics or conditions of all the substance in your intrinsic perception, such as the entities which one can identify as a solid state or a liquid state, (or even a gaseous state), and you believe you know by the very nature of the “subject,” to be just what it is, because that truth is fundamental. Now, suppose these primary dimensions of your reality are permuted, a metamorphosis which transforms every element, transcending everything so that it is the not only opposite of what it may have once been perceived as but the same in it’s lack of form and no law of the universe has any law or harmony, (the gaseous factors would really be astounding) and everything is nothing, and all that is or is not, is a contradiction of the same problem.

The concrete is now the abstract.

The trivium is equal to the empty paradox.

The continuum is now part of absolute zero.

The phone buzzed and I saw two new messages. One was a tangible items requiring some thought and input from certain people involved.

The second message was clearly meant to test me although a immediate result was void of reason and consequence and was disguised emptiness. Support of an broken statement that was neither  subjective or objective. 

Alright, you lost me – I am off the trail of interest; you may kindly fuck off. I can shake off the pixelated perception you painted me. A blank canvass of nothing.

This cognitive action led to my next transitory side-effect which was after quickly reviewing the causal theory of epiphenomenalism (physical events have mental effects, but mental events have no effects of any kind) how very useless it was to philosophize at this time, how tired my mind was, then snip-snapping right on back to my strenuously draining brooding of the undetermined unknown and how that unknown was always about to increase in conscious life.

There are the places at which you are not, or perhaps where you would rather be, not be, won’t be, the list within the list within the list is infinite, but my point is that the location of where you are (or where you ain’t) is probably the most important place you could ever be. Where you’re not is: any, some, or everywhere you could be, certainly, of course when you have but a critical amount of “time” remaining to reconsider every place where you ever were which led me to this last circumstance in which I was currently entangled, where I was not was anywhere but where I was, at a condition labeled as the end of one’s lifetime; this is the place where you last were, and your mind works itself backwards, instinctively and recklessly, and flashes these excruciating images, words, colors, lines and limits, gaps and speculation, theories, people, pets, regrets, media, motions, accidents, mistakes, recoveries, tastes, dreams, nightmares, mischief, games, fame, humiliation, embarrassment, acceptance, awards, rewards, faith, apathy, remorse, anxiety, true faith, true love, true sex, true blueness of the purest skies, waters, and eyes; good fortune, good graces, all those artistic creations….

The worst part was always there: The realization of having to contemplate how anything could be even worse than the worst realization you can contemplate. To me it was feeling that I was departing without saying goodbye; abruptly leaving the party early, sneaking out irresponsibly and silently, the one who didn’t even say, “later on,” and never came back.
During these mangled, mingled conjunctions of deliberation, I disappeared.