Into the Wild

There are movies that entertain you and there are movies that move you at your core. No prizes for guessing under which category this flick falls under. I won’t remember this one for the acting. But it’s the one that rekindled in me, the awe and respect I once had for the “Voice over”. The unseen eloquence of the narrative, shared by a brother and sister to speak of the protagonist’s (the brother) foray into the wild was incredibly powerful. The photography left me speechless and all in all, a perfect example of a kinda-interesting story told in a fabulously interesting way.

Being a writer and insisting that mere words cannot describe the brilliance of this film, I suppose, reflects poorly on my command of the craft. But on the other hand, I believe it is also the litmus test to identify the truly awesome.

Many might vehemently disagree with my views of the movie. But that’s just it. It speaks only to a certain kind of people. Have you ever, at the end of a feature, got up wondering what the hell you were doing, sitting there wasting your life when there is such an awesome world out there waiting to be explored. I did. It got me asking myself some really big questions. Do I know where I am heading? Am I happy doing, what I’m doing? What do I want to be remembered for? And all this was at 3.38 AM. 'Nuff said.

Carpe Dium

I have often felt that the most acclaimed pieces of literature on ‘Love’ have been written by people who know little or nothing at all of the damn thing. Their lack of experience thereof leads, I feel, to a sense of imagined grandeur, which is so well expressed in those verbose verses. That being said, I believe I would be the perfect person to address the issue about seizing the day. I have not ‘Carpe Diumed’. In fact I can’t remember the last time I did. Can you?

I wonder if anyone, anyone at all has achieved their true potential. I doubt it. My yesterday was spent trying to flesh out incomplete thought and impulsive ideas in an attempt to quest that redemption I wrote of earlier. It was in vain. My feeble stabs however, inadvertently sparked off a cool guerilla thought in a colleague. I feigned happiness. Turned out to be a case of his potential, my passion.

My aspirations are huge. I keep imagining myself winning a scholarship to Miami, going on to head one of the best creative shops, leading that agency to being THE best, standing jury in the best advertising festivals there are and becoming immortal in the global face of the industry. But I can’t help but feel a disconnect between them and my level of competence. The line ‘You’ve still got a long way to go kiddo’ has been burnt into my brain.

I know what I have to do. Carpe Dium. It’s the only way. But to gather the will, the knowledge and technique is a feat in itself. I ask myself- are you really creative? Or are you just making yourself out to be something you want to be but are not? I can’t give a straight answer. But deep down, I feel I’m a tad more creative than the rest.

Initiation

I chose to start today, not because I feel that “Today is the first day of my life” but because I have recently been informed (in rather crude terms might I add) that my writing needs a bit of work. Were I not a copywriter, I would have brushed off the suggestion as non chalantly as I would a jab at my cooking skills. To make matters worse, these observations were made by the man atop the hierarchy of my organization.

The incident went down like this. A veteran of his craft, the individual in the above reference (let’s just call him Jay) told me, as a teacher would, his pupil that I should dazzle him with an idea and hence prove that I deserve a more permanent abode aboard his creative ship. Eager to prove myself, I was. A week and half later (last evening) I paced nervously in front of his cabin, playing the presentation in my head. I was proud of my campaign. I surprised myself with some pretty cool thoughts, I felt. When I got the nod, I sat, I started and I presented, with all the enthusiasm of a 3 year old. Silence. Five minutes later I was given a slice of humble pie. And it was a serving that would have fed an African refugee camp for a month. Jay virtually told me, in equivocal terms that my compilation was “utter trash” and that he was surprised that I was even here in whatever capacity.

It’s safe to say that the rendezvous did not exactly go the way I had envisioned. It hurts when an idea you have been working on for a while is flushed down seemingly, along with the contents of a toilet. What stings more is that fact that he is probably right. I sit here today, vowing to find the courage and a good reason to go back into that dreaded cabin. The way things look now, I feel it will take no less that a completely brilliant-beyond-einstein kind of idea to redeem myself in the dude’s eyes. Hopefully first impressions are not what they are made out to be.