Tuesday, 18 September 2012
Saturday, 21 March 2009
Creative Writing Brief: Create a powerful copy based press campaign which encourages creative people to see the potential in Britain's youth.
Kid.
They say once you're at the top, the only way to go is down. I tried so hard
to get to the top; I was running the streets, not living on them. Everywhere
I went people knew me.
But it wasn't always this good. After me Mam died it was just my alcoholic
old man and me, he was always too fucked off his face to give a shit about
what I did. There were times I didn't come home for days. I hardly ever went
to school and when I did I spent lessons bunking behind the tech building
blazing a zoot and bullying the uniforms.
The teachers all knew me and they all avoided me, life was bliss. I could
nail any skank I wanted, but the more drugs I took and the more pussy I
banged I realised it still didn¹t make me happy. I sometimes escaped into my
sketchbook, but I kept that under the loose floorboards of my room. If the
bluhds found that, I'd get ripped to shreds.
Then one day everything changed. I met Eddie. Eddie was a top bloke; high
end deals in the East side of London. Everyone knew not to mess with Big E,
or you'd wake up with nothing, including no kneecaps. He knew how to keep
people in check. Man he put the fear of fucking God in me.
It was around spring I first bumped in Eddie. I was blazing a zoot on the
astro when these three tonk bastards walked up; they looked like they'd just
come from a fucking funeral. Probably one they were responsible for.
I started to think of me Mam, fucking angel she was, would have done
anything for anyone. It was her good nature that got her a one-way ticket to
the big guy in the sky. Trying to help people was always Mams way, she was
an artist and she was beautiful. When she died, everything changed.
"Oi kid!"
I just fixed them with a stare. I was bricking it, but I wasn't
about to show them that.
"Oi kid, you Danny?"
"Who wants to know?" I still started at them, not daring to blink.
"Eddie, he wants to chat with you."
They motioned to the Merc parked on the corner, windows tinted. I could just
make out the wisp of smoke seeping through the only open window.
"It will just take a minute kid."
I wish they'd stop saying that.
I motioned to stand up.
"Dan..."
I had completely forgot about my mate Jay sat next to me.
"Safe man, I'll only be a couple of minutes."
He nodded and I stood up and wiped the dirt off my Boxfresh jeans, following
the two beefs to the Merc.
The door opened as if of its own accord.
Eddie smiled at me.
"Danny boy."
His gold tooth caught the sunlight filtering through the crack in the
window.
I just fixated on the tooth wondering how and why it had been knocked out.
"Danny, I've heard a lot about you..."
I just nodded, not wanting to give away too much, least of all the terror
coursing through my veins.
"I want you to do a job for me Danny."
He threw a grand¹s worth of £20s on the seat in between us. He must have
seen my eyes widen as he laughed a low, dark laugh and his mouth widened
showing a lot more pearly whites to go along with that single gold tooth.
"What do you want me to do?"
I exited the car with my pockets significantly heavier.
"Dan, what did he want?"
"Nothing mate, he just wanted to swap some details and some digits."
We carried on blazing until the sun set around the stagnant council
houses. I couldn't help think that someone should really do them up. They
certainly were an eyesore.
I tossed and turned, sweating dripping from my brow, I was five, and me Mam
was teaching me how to ride my first bike. I remember her long hair and her
encouraging smile, her warm skin when she came and held me after I fell off.
She always had paint smeared across her clothes. My mother, the angel.
I got up, stared at myself in the mirror. Contemplating the actions I was
about to put in motion. I could see her in me, still. Her green eyes matched
mine. I wish she would come and save me. Pumped up I slammed the mirror down
and pushed it to the back of my mind. I had to concentrate on the act.
I pulled my black hoodie around my face and felt its warmth around me. I
didn't even need to sneak out of the house; my old man was passed out in
front of the T.V with beer cans littered around him. Fucking prick.
I started to make my way down the street about a quarter mile from the bad
area of East London.
It's dark out and the air is cold. Lights are burning in the houses but
there is no movement outside. No sound. Everyone knows not to come in this
area after dark.
The house looks empty from the outside, no lights on, curtains drawn. If I
hadn't prowled round this shit dump I'd never have known people were in
here. I could hear hushed voices and low murmurs. Someone was trying to keep
their presence unknown. God this place was such a dive, the wooden doors are
all rotten and the paint was peeling off, like snake shedding its skin. The
curtains are stained and moth bitten, hanging loosely and motionless in
their frames. I check the single pain windows; the bedroom ones are boarded
up and I have to be careful not to tread on the glass on the floor. One
noise and I'm fucked. I sneak around the back garden where it's quieter and
pull my scarf higher over my face; you can barely see my eyes, my mother's
eyes. I check my surroundings quickly; I could be the only person in the
world here. It's so quiet.
My Zippo burns bright and orange, I can feel its warmth on my eyes.
I stare into it for what seems like hours.
I light the two petrol soaked rags and pitch each bottle through the
windows. The living room is engulfed in flames. The flames start to lick at
the curtains and ceiling.
I hear the sound of broken glass and screams. And then a woman screams, high
and full of terror. I jump the back fence and through the neighbouring
garden, I look back. Why is no one leaving the house? I can still hear her
screaming.
I see my mother, holding me close after I had fallen over whilst playing on
my rollerblades, I remember the way she screamed whilst trying to protect me
and the shop keeper.
What the fuck have I just done?
My Zippo burns bright and orange, I can feel its warmth on my eyes.
I snap it shut. I can't do it. I drop the two petrol bombs and fall to my
knees. Tears stain my face, I'm trembling and I know it's not because of the
cold. It's her, she came and she saved me...
...I stare at the picture of my mother on my desk. Now 10 years on, I still
thank her for saving me that night. Now I'm running the streets, but in a
different way.
I design the streets
They say once you're at the top, the only way to go is down. I tried so hard
to get to the top; I was running the streets, not living on them. Everywhere
I went people knew me.
But it wasn't always this good. After me Mam died it was just my alcoholic
old man and me, he was always too fucked off his face to give a shit about
what I did. There were times I didn't come home for days. I hardly ever went
to school and when I did I spent lessons bunking behind the tech building
blazing a zoot and bullying the uniforms.
The teachers all knew me and they all avoided me, life was bliss. I could
nail any skank I wanted, but the more drugs I took and the more pussy I
banged I realised it still didn¹t make me happy. I sometimes escaped into my
sketchbook, but I kept that under the loose floorboards of my room. If the
bluhds found that, I'd get ripped to shreds.
Then one day everything changed. I met Eddie. Eddie was a top bloke; high
end deals in the East side of London. Everyone knew not to mess with Big E,
or you'd wake up with nothing, including no kneecaps. He knew how to keep
people in check. Man he put the fear of fucking God in me.
It was around spring I first bumped in Eddie. I was blazing a zoot on the
astro when these three tonk bastards walked up; they looked like they'd just
come from a fucking funeral. Probably one they were responsible for.
I started to think of me Mam, fucking angel she was, would have done
anything for anyone. It was her good nature that got her a one-way ticket to
the big guy in the sky. Trying to help people was always Mams way, she was
an artist and she was beautiful. When she died, everything changed.
"Oi kid!"
I just fixed them with a stare. I was bricking it, but I wasn't
about to show them that.
"Oi kid, you Danny?"
"Who wants to know?" I still started at them, not daring to blink.
"Eddie, he wants to chat with you."
They motioned to the Merc parked on the corner, windows tinted. I could just
make out the wisp of smoke seeping through the only open window.
"It will just take a minute kid."
I wish they'd stop saying that.
I motioned to stand up.
"Dan..."
I had completely forgot about my mate Jay sat next to me.
"Safe man, I'll only be a couple of minutes."
He nodded and I stood up and wiped the dirt off my Boxfresh jeans, following
the two beefs to the Merc.
The door opened as if of its own accord.
Eddie smiled at me.
"Danny boy."
His gold tooth caught the sunlight filtering through the crack in the
window.
I just fixated on the tooth wondering how and why it had been knocked out.
"Danny, I've heard a lot about you..."
I just nodded, not wanting to give away too much, least of all the terror
coursing through my veins.
"I want you to do a job for me Danny."
He threw a grand¹s worth of £20s on the seat in between us. He must have
seen my eyes widen as he laughed a low, dark laugh and his mouth widened
showing a lot more pearly whites to go along with that single gold tooth.
"What do you want me to do?"
I exited the car with my pockets significantly heavier.
"Dan, what did he want?"
"Nothing mate, he just wanted to swap some details and some digits."
We carried on blazing until the sun set around the stagnant council
houses. I couldn't help think that someone should really do them up. They
certainly were an eyesore.
I tossed and turned, sweating dripping from my brow, I was five, and me Mam
was teaching me how to ride my first bike. I remember her long hair and her
encouraging smile, her warm skin when she came and held me after I fell off.
She always had paint smeared across her clothes. My mother, the angel.
I got up, stared at myself in the mirror. Contemplating the actions I was
about to put in motion. I could see her in me, still. Her green eyes matched
mine. I wish she would come and save me. Pumped up I slammed the mirror down
and pushed it to the back of my mind. I had to concentrate on the act.
I pulled my black hoodie around my face and felt its warmth around me. I
didn't even need to sneak out of the house; my old man was passed out in
front of the T.V with beer cans littered around him. Fucking prick.
I started to make my way down the street about a quarter mile from the bad
area of East London.
It's dark out and the air is cold. Lights are burning in the houses but
there is no movement outside. No sound. Everyone knows not to come in this
area after dark.
The house looks empty from the outside, no lights on, curtains drawn. If I
hadn't prowled round this shit dump I'd never have known people were in
here. I could hear hushed voices and low murmurs. Someone was trying to keep
their presence unknown. God this place was such a dive, the wooden doors are
all rotten and the paint was peeling off, like snake shedding its skin. The
curtains are stained and moth bitten, hanging loosely and motionless in
their frames. I check the single pain windows; the bedroom ones are boarded
up and I have to be careful not to tread on the glass on the floor. One
noise and I'm fucked. I sneak around the back garden where it's quieter and
pull my scarf higher over my face; you can barely see my eyes, my mother's
eyes. I check my surroundings quickly; I could be the only person in the
world here. It's so quiet.
My Zippo burns bright and orange, I can feel its warmth on my eyes.
I stare into it for what seems like hours.
I light the two petrol soaked rags and pitch each bottle through the
windows. The living room is engulfed in flames. The flames start to lick at
the curtains and ceiling.
I hear the sound of broken glass and screams. And then a woman screams, high
and full of terror. I jump the back fence and through the neighbouring
garden, I look back. Why is no one leaving the house? I can still hear her
screaming.
I see my mother, holding me close after I had fallen over whilst playing on
my rollerblades, I remember the way she screamed whilst trying to protect me
and the shop keeper.
What the fuck have I just done?
My Zippo burns bright and orange, I can feel its warmth on my eyes.
I snap it shut. I can't do it. I drop the two petrol bombs and fall to my
knees. Tears stain my face, I'm trembling and I know it's not because of the
cold. It's her, she came and she saved me...
...I stare at the picture of my mother on my desk. Now 10 years on, I still
thank her for saving me that night. Now I'm running the streets, but in a
different way.
I design the streets
(Sorry about the way it's spaced out, I can't change it, blogger won't let me)
Wednesday, 11 February 2009
College Brief: Create a holiday website for Cornwall
Target Audience: Children
All created on Photoshop by myself, including the sea and sand.
Fully interactive.
All created on Photoshop by myself, including the sea and sand.
Fully interactive.
College Brief: Redesign a story book cover.
I chose do to Sleeping Beauty and to change the way it is percieved. A lot of Disney films are quite dark, so I decided to use this spin when creating my design. Created all by my own fair hand.
College FMP: Open Brief
I chose to do a series of advertisements for the footwear brand Irregular Choice, as I noticed they have no adverts to date. I created the film using rota scoping in i-movie.
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