work.

Creative Writing Brief: Create a powerful copy based press campaign which encourages creative people to see the potential in Britain's youth.

2009-03-21T10:57:00.008Z

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

(Sorry about the way it's spaced out, I can't change it, blogger won't let me)

College Brief: Create a holiday website for Cornwall

2009-02-11T23:07:00.004Z

Target Audience: Children
All created on Photoshop by myself, including the sea and sand.
Fully interactive.

College Brief: Redesign a story book cover.

2009-02-11T18:46:00.003Z

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

2009-02-11T18:40:00.005Z

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.

College Brief: Create A music website.

2009-02-11T18:33:00.002Z

Fully interactive, with options to stream music.

Strategies -Not Completed.

2009-02-09T15:13:00.002Z

St Tropez: Feel at home in Africa.

Argos: The only thing we don't do is your mum.

Glamour Magazine: For all the things you want but can never afford.

College Brief: Create an animation in any form.

2009-02-05T20:11:00.000Z

Live Brief. Set by M&C Saatchi.

2008-12-01T13:31:00.007Z

So the brief for this, was to create an advertising campaign to stop people to make people realise, that by binge drinking, not only does it do damage to yourself, but you may also lose your friends.

Strategy: Excessive drinking will make your best mates think you're a twat. even if they don't tell you to your face

Myself, Steph and Portia worked on this brief, We got some brilliant feedback from Graham Fink about our work, we was pleased with how well we answered the brief and the ideas we came up with. I entered this work for my assessment and placed the posters around the university to see what reaction I would get.
These are poster ideas we came up with.

I changed my voicemail message in the hope people would call and lave their details, they did call but alas left no message. I got two phone calls, and four texts in the space of the two hours they'd been up. I took photographs throughout the day to show how many people had took my number. By the end of the day one poster had all my numbers taken off, one had four taken off and one had disappeared completely.

Advertising Assessment Brief: Advertise Lidl in a way that will get customers to shop there as opposed to Waitrose etc.

2008-11-28T13:58:00.016Z

When creating the Lidl advertising campaign, we decided the best route to go down would be not to mention Lidl, odd we know. After researching into the company and its customer base, we found people already have a pre-conceived idea about Lidl and what the company has to offer. We found these pre-conceived ideas to be that Lidl is cheap, tacky and unrefined. We thought that by mentioning the name, people would instantly turn off, they would not pay any attention as they have already judged it. Our campaign was not to outright advertise the company and its good points, as people already know that they are good value for money. Instead we decided to create a campaign that would build up hype and intrigue about the store in a subconscious way. We created a string of poster adverts, a radio takeover, a postcard mail out and an ambient campaign. We tried to link all our mediums into one another, the poster and the mail outs would lead you to the radio takeover and that would in turn lead you to the ambient campaign. From there people would be finding out about Lidl by becoming interested in the campaign and wanting to follow it.

Posters

Direct Mail

Ambient

Graphics and Advertising Brief: Create a manifesto for a train guard.

2008-11-26T15:22:00.000Z

Graphics and Advertising Brief: Create a booklet based on the quote "If you don't do it, you don't have an opinion so SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

2008-11-18T00:53:00.005Z

The work is set in a leaflet format, so the information doesnt line up with the imagery next to it, but when printed and folded correctly it will do.

Photography Brief. A Week In My Life

2008-11-17T01:25:00.005Z

Photography Brief. An Event.

2008-11-17T00:56:00.006Z

Typography Brief: Create a visually enticing poster using type and imagery.

2008-10-17T23:28:00.003+01:00

Creative Writing Brief: Write a story, based upon this title, Dick Turpin's Last Ride.

2008-10-17T21:53:00.001+01:00

Dick Turpins Last Ride

I can feel my heart hammering in my chest; I’m so scared it will break through my ribcage. I look down at the pale, blank faces below me, strewn with grief.
Can they hear my heart?
They must be able to, its so quiet and echoey in this room, you could hear a pin drop.
I try to swallow down the huge, dry lump in my throat
Surely they can hear it now?

I look up, and all I can see are lights, so bright they blind me, and I hear the sound of rubber against tarmac, it screams at me like a banshee.
We’re flying through the air and I look over, I see his face, distorted with fear and guilt. His eyes glaze over and I see the bright white lights reflected in his pupils.
“You’re going too fast.”
Then I remember my father, helping me up after I’d fallen off my bike for the first time.
I remember the way the kitchen used to smell every Sunday when ma baked her cheese scones.
I remember the breeze flowing through my hair as my big sister pushed me on the swings, and her warming hug when I fell off and grazed my knee.
I remember my first kiss, my first fight, my first love and my first heartbreak.
“Please slow down.”
The words echo in my head.
University, every Friday night out. Tears and laughter. Meeting him and regretting it, but meeting him and never looking back. My graduation, the smiles on ma and pa’s face, the look of pride on my sisters.
“LOOK OUT!”
And then I hear the sirens, see the flashing lights.
“Can you hear me?”
I remember the night under the stars, the summer breeze.
“Will you marry me?”
The ring is beautiful; I can feel its cold metal against my fingers.
“Can you hear me? Are you okay?”
I’ve never been so happy
“Yes, Yes.”
“We have a response”
The lights get closer, a blurred face, a dull ache.
Cold sheets, the smell of disinfectant. I don't know how I got here, my body aches.
“I’m sorry, he’s gone.”
And then I’m numb, empty.

Surely they can hear my heart now?
I swallow that huge, dry lump in my throat.
The tears well up in my eyes, I cant do it.
“I’m sorry.” I weep.
My legs start to move of their own accord, I’m running. Running away from this place, from those blank faces.
I get into my car and turn on the engine, shaking, I put the car into gear and drive away, not even sure where im going.
Trees flash past me, the rain pounds down on the windscreen, I can barely see, break lights are just blurs, and my wipers seem redundant.
The car grinds to a halt, as if on its own, I forget its me that’s in control.
I only realise where I am when I get out the car.
The rain soaks me through almost instantly, I wish it would wash me clean of this pain, I watch it pour down the street like a stream and imagine my heartbreak flowing away with it.
There are flowers everywhere, all over the barely existent pavement, tied to the lamppost – probably the last thing he saw - it looks like an explosion, flowers in ever colour, just hanging there lifeless, just like he did.
I start to look at the notes, written by so many friends, so much heartache. Then one catches my eye; I can’t help but read it.

“Dick,
You were always looking for that rush, the new thrill; you were always so much braver than me. I can’t believe that was your last ride, your last rush. I cant believe your gone, I’ll miss you forever. You’ll always be in my thoughts. I Love You, my darling brother.
X”

Creative Writing Brief: Write a story, based upon the image of a torn sign in a wooden shack, overlooking the sea.

2008-10-17T21:51:00.001+01:00

So I saw another one of them, another one of those fucking posters.
The same poster, same picture that I see over and over and over again, on shacks, trees and lamppost, that same poster that brings back the gut wrenching memory of what I last said to her. Shouting at her to get out of my make-up box, Christ she was just a kid, why couldn't I let her play? If I had known then what I no now, I would have let her play, for hours, then maybe she would have stayed safe, instead of running off in hysterics.

I cant stop staring at those big blue eyes, blonde hair and cheeky grin, remembering the date when the picture was taken, on her eighth birthday, god she looked so happy.
I can feel tears prickling at the back of my eyes as I touch the picture, just trying to get some connection to her, just one little strand, but all I feel is paper and emptiness.

Its now been 11 months since my little sister went missing, and these posters still litter the place, a reminder that she still hasn't come home, a reminder of that empty place at the dinner table, a constant reminder of what you’ve lost and just when you manage to forget it, forget everything for one blissful minute, you walk past one of these fucking posters, and it brings back the awful memory, it comes back and hits you so hard you think you might throw up.

God, I miss her so much.

I remember the times when we used to come to the beach, this same exact spot, the same stop where all these posters now infest.
As I stare at the beach, the sea, the sand, I remember how we used to build sandcastles, eat ice cream and play in the sea. The time I let her bury me and the time we went hunting for crabs, she was so fascinated by them.

I remember when I realised she’d gone missing, this shack was the first place I checked, I remember how we used to play hide and seek here, I remember how much I wished and hoped it was that same game again, that I’d run into the shack and find her hidden behind the same wooden boxes she always hid behind, but this time it wasn’t a game, and all I found was her cardigan, her little red one with the yellow flowers.

I can’t help but collapse onto the boxes crying, and I find myself wondering why? Why would someone kidnap my little sister? What screwed up, fucked up, shit kind of person would do this?

I’ve played her return over and over in my head, how I’d come home, and she’d just be sat there, on my bed, playing with my toys like she always did, but no matter how much I wished or how hard I prayed, she’d never be there.

And as I stare into those eyes, those big blue eyes just staring at me so innocent, so happy, I feel a surge of hatred and I can’t stand it any more. I tear the poster down and throw it to the floor, but I don't hate her, not by any means, I love her so much, and I cant bear that she is gone, every second hurts.
I hate myself, because if I hadn’t shouted at her, she’d still be here.

Hannah I’m so sorry.

Creative Advertising Brief: Create a visual representation on your idea of beauty.

2008-10-17T21:19:00.001+01:00