#(a gabillion years later i know)

[momosweettreats]

Closed for @freshcir

"Mavi!Mavi!Mavi!" Momo said as she ran up to the other. There was a happy skip with her picnic basket. It was one of her days off, of course she was going to spend it with one of best friends. "Ready to have the best girl's day out ever!!!"

[seat-safety-switch]

There’s simply no way to predict the future, which is why automakers pay gabillions of dollars to specious morons who invent “brand outlooks.” Naturally, this produces two things: weird concept cars for us to laugh about later, and inch-thick binders of coke-fuelled graphic design wankery. New logos for a 208-year-old company. Slogans that don’t make any sense. A demand that they must provide a certain kind of cupholder, because cars equipped with such a futuristic cupholder will have a 1.013x higher attach rate than the baseline in their Excel model.

It’s all a grift, and I decided that I wanted in. Nobody knows more about the future than me, because nobody knows anything about the future. That means there should be no guilt in not delivering and yet getting paid for it. Even if you hand in an empty duotang, you’re in the same class as the guy who made the interns write six hundred pages about the swoosh in the Pepsi logo inspiring consumers to buy a new Corvette.

The problem with this grift, as happens with any worthwhile scam, is getting “in.” Because it’s so lucrative, the guys and gals who are already ripping off the megacorporations have pulled up the ladder. The last thing they want is some asshole like me totally blowing the whole thing because he didn’t know not to use Helvetica as a body font for the reports. My solution? Create a grift within a grift, and insert myself into one of these ad agencies for a little while. Get the lay of the land, borrow some security swipe cards, and then set myself up for success.

It was harder than I thought going through the interview process, because I kept having attacks of being a real person. Lucky for me, I still had some medication in what’s left of my Volare’s glovebox, and chugging a few pills here and there helped me suppress the urges to be authentic to myself instead of the corporate being that they wanted to hire. That “you’re in” handshake was the first of a long career of taking money from Ford in exchange for printing off the Wikipedia article for “blue,” I hoped.

Unfortunately, as expected, I had failed to predict the future. Rather than get put right onto a car-company contract like I wanted, those advertising weasels figured that I would be a good fit for cordless power tools. Specifically, a cordless angle grinder. And it turns out that my enthusiasm for angle grinding was infectious: I ended up getting promoted to partner within a year, solely because the folks at Milwaukee were “a little scared” of how well I could speak the language of degenerate bicycle thieves.

[markpauldaphotography]

Meeting Hakim :: When Photography is More Than Taking Photographs

When Photography is More Than Taking Photographs I have two great passions in this world. One is photography and the other is travel. When I realised I could marry the two - travel and photography - it was a match made in heaven because that meant I could go around the world photographing all these great places in all of these great lands that I had always dreamed of visiting. When I first thought about becoming a photographer, that was my vision. I could go to Mont Saint Michel and photograph this great architectural wonder in the middle of the water. I could also go to Venice and get lost in the alleys, and capture the colors of Morocco. Never in my wildest dreams did I think that photography could affect me or put me in situations where I would meet people who would cause me to look at myself and learn more about myself.  These very same people changed my life. Travel really has become a very personal thing for me.  Sometimes I think that there's someone I don't see who pushes me or has their hand on my back pushing me in a certain direction so I do come across some of these people that I do. The first real true experience that opened my eyes would have been in Marrakech. I was in the Medina and really not enjoying the atmosphere because there seemed to be too much chaos and noise. What I had envisioned in my head wasn't happening in front of me. Then, out of nowhere this man stopped me and he asks, "are you ok?" And I replied, "Well, yeah. Why do you ask?" "You don't look very happy." I said, "I'm not. There's too much chaos here and it's driving me crazy. I just want to leave." The stranger looked at me with a look of surprise.  He took a hold of my arm and asked, "what is your name?" So, I told him. With a huge smile he asks how long I planned to be in Marrakech. Again, I told him. Then he asked, "where are you staying?" And, I told him the name of the resort. I don't know why I told this man, but I did. He firmly replies, "I'm coming for you tomorrow at 8am." I said, "no you're not!" "Yes, yes, I will come at 8am." I replied, "No!" "Why not?" the stranger asks with more surprise. "It's too early," I replied with a sly smile. "Ok, Ok, What time should I come?" "Oh, I don't know. Let's say 10:30 or 11am." He smiled and said, "Ok, I'll be there." The man jetted off into the Medina; I went the other way.  My only thought was what a peculiar encounter and I didn't give it a second thought.  This was merely a moment in time and I'd never see the man again. Well, low and behold the next morning at 10:30am the phone in my hotel room rang. The receptionist said, "Mr. Paulda, there's someone here to see you. I thought, who is it?  Who in Marrakech knows me?  I had forgotten about the day before.  More to the point, my brain doesn't function so great in the morning.  The receptions ended by saying, "his name is Hakim and he's waiting for you." I think to myself, I don't know anyone named Hakim.  Curiosity got the best of me and so I walked to reception.  There waiting for me is this man, the man I met in the Medina the day before. Hakim told me, "I want you to come with me.  Go get what you need for one, two three days." And with no obvious expression, I thought - "holy crap!  This man wants to take me away.  I have no idea who he is. Then I thought to myself, "I'm going to do this. I'm going off with this stranger whom I don't know." So I did. I went off with this man, Hakim. We drove in a direction foreign to me.  I had no idea where we were going. We talked about life, the philosophy of life - just back and forth as if we were friends reunited after a long separation. By the end of the day, we were headed into the dunes of the Sahara Desert.  That night I slept under the stars, a gabillion stars in the Sahara Desert.  And, there was a full moon. I remember the rising moon over the dunes; the sight was one I'll not soon forget. After being awed by the sandy desert, Hakim drove me back to the resort after this incredible time.  In my mind I kept asking myself, "did this really happen?"  Am I going to wake up only to realise the eye opening experience was merely a Moroccan dream?" Instead, the encounter was real and it helped me understand the culture in Morocco just through Hakim.  I also learned I am a little bit braver than I ever imagined. When we arrived back to the hotel, I thanked Hakim and asked how much money I could give him for the journey. We hadn't discussed money before the trek began. Hakim's startled expression was followed by, "nothing my friend, I only want you to love my country."   I was speechless and in awe at the same time. Before Hakim drove away, he simply said, "I'll be in touch." I went back into the hotel. I started thinking, "ok, Hakim told me he'd be in touch with me, but how?"  He didn't have my phone number; I didn't give him my email.  He only had my name. Months went by.   I was in Texas and I received a phone call from the gallery manager, the gallery that represents my work.  Kelly said, "Mark, there is this man on the phone, he has an accent and he's asking for you." Immediately, I knew who was calling.  It was Hakim. You never really know when you're traveling who you will meet.  And, you never really know the long lasting friendships or relationships you'll create along the way. It was a year or two later, I'm sure two years after meeting Hakim, he called me. I was in Texas, he was in Marrakech and he said, "Mark!  I have this great idea for you. I thought to myself, "oh my god, here we go." "What is it," I asked? "I want you to come back to Morocco," Hakim said, "I want you to go with me.  We're going to walk on a trail that has been traveled for thousands of years with a nomadic tribe."  Berber nomads. It took me about ten seconds to say yes.  "I'll be there. Tell me what day, I'll be there." Walking with the nomads is an entirely different story of learning about myself and learning about the Moroccan culture, and the simplicity of life. More importantly, I look at the Moroccan way of life, then looking back at us in the Western world.  I always think how much we in America and Europe really do complicate matters. Know and understand that photography can be more than taking photographs.  Photography is more than owning a camera. I've said this throughout the blog and I'll repeat it again here - open your heart and open your mind.  Let whatever happens, happen.  Take it all in; the experience, take it all in. Photography can really be an education for you. I know it has been for me. 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