Inspire (or Die)

                     Today’s update is a little cheat. After a good friend of mine brought me into discovery of this wonderful blog, I’ve gone through it post by post. This story got me stunned and full of tears. It revokes me to think about what we will least think of at the end of any day - death.  Let’s take a break from whatever you are doing now and imagine with me. How your last day of life looks like?

theburiedlife:

A sweet lesson on patience. 

A NYC Taxi driver wrote:

I arrived at the address and honked the horn. After waiting a few minutes I honked again. Since this was going to be my last ride of my shift I thought about just driving away, but instead I put the car in park and walked up to the door and knocked.. ‘Just a minute’, answered a frail, elderly voice. I could hear something being dragged across the floor.

After a long pause, the door opened. A small woman in her 90’s stood before me. She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on it, like somebody out of a 1940’s movie.

By her side was a small nylon suitcase. The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years. All the furniture was covered with sheets.

There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the counters. In the corner was a cardboard
box filled with photos and glassware.

‘Would you carry my bag out to the car?’ she said. I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman.

She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb.

She kept thanking me for my kindness. ‘It’s nothing’, I told her.. ‘I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother to be treated.’

‘Oh, you’re such a good boy, she said. When we got in the cab, she gave me an address and then asked, ‘Could you drive
through downtown?’

‘It’s not the shortest way,’ I answered quickly..

‘Oh, I don’t mind,’ she said. ‘I’m in no hurry. I’m on my way to a hospice.

I looked in the rear-view mirror. Her eyes were glistening. ‘I don’t have any family left,’ she continued in a soft voice..’The doctor says I don’t have very long.’ I quietly reached over and shut off the meter.

‘What route would you like me to take?’ I asked.

For the next two hours, we drove through the city. She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator operator.

We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived when they were newlyweds She had me pull up in front of a furniture warehouse that had once been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.

Sometimes she’d ask me to slow in front of a particular building or corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.

As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly said, ‘I’m tired.Let’s go now’.
We drove in silence to the address she had given me. It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a driveway that passed under a portico.

Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up. They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move.
They must have been expecting her.

I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door. The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.

‘How much do I owe you?’ She asked, reaching into her purse.

‘Nothing,’ I said

‘You have to make a living,’ she answered.

‘There are other passengers,’ I responded.

Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug.She held onto me tightly.

‘You gave an old woman a little moment of joy,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’

I squeezed her hand, and then walked into the dim morning light.. Behind me, a door shut.It was the sound of the closing of a life..

I didn’t pick up any more passengers that shift. I drove aimlessly lost in thought. For the rest of that day,I could hardly talk.What if that woman had gotten an angry driver,or one who was impatient to end his shift? What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then driven away?

On a quick review, I don’t think that I have done anything more important in my life.

We’re conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great moments.

But great moments often catch us unaware-beautifully wrapped in what others may consider a small one.

                                                  Marriage of Brands

When I first saw this YSL Facebook palette (soon to be know as Saint Laurent Paris. I don’t know the reason behind but I trust Hedi Slimane for choices he makes)

I literally jumped and screamed ” I told you so!”

well… back in my first year of master course, we had a great chance to attend the competition in Venice. The competition was sponsored by a big American company called One Care,  a big figure in cleaning product industry. My project pitch was ” One Care di moda - chic and clean” I managed to marry cleaning products to fashion and create the shopping desire to all desperate ladies who have to buy all these boring products every once in a while. 

You won’t believe what I saw on the judges’ faces while presenting my project. They looked at me as if i was explaining the quantum theory ,no no, more like why women said they are not mad when they are. I even proposed that we could have Chanel number 5 home fragrance, limited collection of WC cleaners and Burberry cleaning gloves. You can guess .. I didn’t win the competition but I got to puzzle a bunch of american men in Venice. That’s a good experience.

                                         The making of Stereotype

I came across this cool project from BruceMau Design with their intention to re-educate  Americans about image of Canada.

 ”In our redesign, we began with an assertion that Americans simply don’t understand Canada. Our view is that Canada doesn’t need a redesign; rather, Americans need to be educated. ”

Wow … what a statement!

But what actually expands my thought is a little motif behind the project known as “Stereotype” - the most ancient perception of human race brand. Believe it or not,  stereotype images are sticky enough to remain almost exactly the same since they had been first introduced. I am a Thai woman living in Italy, so yeah i got some first hand experience about judgmental impression. Whenever people share stories about why their friends travelling to Thailand, or how we are so famous about prostitution, I just shrug and reply ” yeah .. i guarantee the percentage of shagging in Thailand is the same as any other places in the world. The difference is other women jump to bed for free, our girls make a business out of it” 

Ahem …. So back to rebranding idea. I think the first step to build any brand is to start with question ” How can we make stereotype of our brand?” The stickiest images that will remain timelessly, through visuals, messages, stories. Another simplest example I can give you is personal brand - you as a brand and your stereotype to others. What are your identities on social network like Facebook? Are you known as “snap and eat” ( for food pic uploaders),” PMS sharer” ( for moaning just about anything at any minute) or “Any-ville bug” ( for keep sending game requests till you get blocked or unfriended) ?

Rethink what you present. You are maker of you stereotype, not the others.

PS. if you have dark humor( like me) and want to know more about stereotype, you sure want to check the work of Yanko Tsvetkov.

We all had them once from our childhood memories. Those miniature plastic dolls which allowed us to play God before we even realized the secretive desire to be control masters years after. Though I confess that whenever I see any new lighting design, the first thought would be ” Of course, anything can be a lamp”. I just want you to drop that idea and go check Tam:Da.

The design concept of Tam:Da is to redefining the original functionality and transforming it into something beyond expectation. This interestingly draws my attention. It is somewhat DIY plus a remake with elements of style and creativity. Most of all, their products are fun. Who doesn’t like fun?

credit: www.tam-da.com

https://www.facebook.com/TamdaDesign

And don’t forget to check out their first debut: Poodle lamp