I was watching Breakfast Television this morning to see if Dina Pugliese would entice me into a passionate new day (and for the weather report). She didn’t; she’s just so dry (and it’s supposed to start raining tomorrow). The over-boiled supposed-to-be-soft-boiled egg was digesting in my stomach, as was the thick, crunchy, crusty hunk of Vienna Rye (I buy it for a reason!) I was up early again and was feeling the need to get inspired. Portfolio’s a waitin’
Dina obviously wouldn’t do it for me so I decided to kill a few birds with one stone: head outside for a walk, get some inspiration, and take a few photos of it. I firmly believe that to solve a problem it’s best to walk away from it; just the excuse I needed.
My first thought when I hit Yonge-Dundas Square was to make the portfolio like a building. Each floor would house a project I’d worked on that you could fly into via the magic of Adobe Flash. The Woo building (I’m sure it has another name — but is it as catchy?), seemed like a suitable candidate. Lots of windows and spinny, twirly, moving things. Plus, I remember the Woo website being somewhat slick – the location must’ve worked for them.
Except that it’s been done, like, a million and one times already. Every agency and creative somethingorother showcase their loft, or their building, or some nearby space on their web pages.
Okay, how about something like a construction site then?
I could have the shovels, umm, shoveling content. And the dump trucks … dumping … stuff. Hmmm.
That idea had two unfortunate connotations. First, the connection between trucks, dumping, and the intertubes. Not sure if that’s the image I want to give off. Second, this thing:
Ultra-cheese since it first appeared in a Netscape window. I haven’t used Netscape since I don’t even know when.
So that pretty much put an end to the construction idea.
For some reason, fire trucks were racing along Yonge Street the whole morning. I didn’t see a single emergency (no smoke or stretchers), but they did spark off an idea.
Maybe I’d been over thinking it. Maybe I could just use one complex, rotating, 3D object in the middle of a pristine white web page. The object could be something like a fire truck, the Swiss Army knife of vehicles. Or a Swiss Army knife. I imagined it would be kind fun to poke and prod this thing on screen, having each prodable doohickey act as an activator to some portfolio piece that would pop up beside it.
Of course, I’d have to model the thing in 3D. That’d be the only way of ensuring each of the pieces were able to move separately. Sadly, my 3D modelling skills are laughable. I could whip you up a cube in about five minutes, subdivide that sucker into a diamond in about half an hour. A truck? Probably not in this lifetime. A truck that moves? Well that’s a silly question.
Too concrete. I’d probably do better thinking more abstractly. Instead of trying to envision the page, I decided to try juggling a few words around. “Reliable.” “Innovative”. “Classical”. “Modern”.
Tossing contradictory words up in the air was very unsatisfying. Classical yet modern. What kind of bullshit services was I peddling here?
Plus, I was already supposed to have been home twenty minutes ago. To start working on my portfolio! I was sure I’d have something at that point, but nada. I mean, whaddya do in a situation like that?
Neat. And there it was. It was an effect I was looking for. Forget representing anything, it just will be.
Well, I didn’t lollygag about after that, to be sure. I hustled home and started coding. Stopped some time after 10 p.m. Solid. Late post, but I managed to bring it all home in the end. I think, that’s what matters. Tomorrow development continues and I dredge up the dusty Old Projects folders, screen-grabs of various web projects I’d worked on, printed using the most expensive type of ink / paper my current employer had. Strangely, some of the projects now exist solely on paper. Ironical.
I sometimes get the funny feeling that one day my particular skills will come to absolutely naught when society crumbles and everyone’s left to fend for themselves. Right back to the Dark Ages. A zombie invasion, for example. That’s why I took the precaution of learning how to wield a garden hoe as a weapon (I would imagine the city hoe is considerably more difficult). Also how to garden. I’ll be feasting on fresh veggies while the rest ‘a them are eating ‘coons and squirrels. Hole up in a church until winter, kill frozen zombies for fun until the thaw comes; that’s a plan I can stand behind.
The portfolio is my plan B, just in case that doesn’t happen. Just in case.