November 1, 2023

Only share your work when you are absolutely confident.

Or the AI clickbait version: The Presentation Code: Cracking the Formula for Conquering Your Creative Demons

There is this thing in the creative industry, which is, there is always a point where you have to share your work with someone else for review...the presentation.

In the creative industry, the moment of presentation is akin to baring your soul before others for scrutiny and critique. It's a process that often induces trepidation, even for seasoned professionals. I've experienced the nerves & the sweat. However, I've also learned that these presentations, when approached with the right mindset, can be transformative, providing opportunities for growth and affirmation.

Presenting always involves exposing yourself, raw, naked in front of someone else to get ripped apart, your flaws will be shown in public, and every mistake that you did will surface. Depends on the audience, if its a peer that is more senior than you, there is a really big chance that your work will be challenged in a way or another.

This doesn't mean that the experience will or has to be traumatic, it might be intimidating in the beginning, if you are a more junior in your career, even though, I always dread some feedback sessions, I get nervous and sweat, feel insecure or get an instant imposter syndrome shock in my bloodstream.

A presentation with an empathic, benevolent partner, can give you honest and motivating feedback. It can give you confidence that you are working on the right path and maybe share with you a key or two that can unlock your career path. You never know. Sometimes, after a presentation you realise, that you've grown.

The more experienced that you are presenting, the more confidence you can project and the easier it might be for you to navigate your audience. But there are certain guidelines that can help you arrive to your appointment more prepared and reduce not only the level of stress, but of insecurity, dread and give you protection when you are facing a challenging counterparty.

First things first, you are a designer, not an artist. You solve problems. It's crucial to remember that every element you present must be justified. From the color palette to typographic choices, every design decision should have a purpose. A cohesive narrative that ties together the elements of your presentation can make all the difference. Anticipating potential weaknesses and having well-prepared counterpoints ready can fortify your presentation against potential challenges. If you are presenting a moodboard for example, you cannot have random images that don't make sense one next to the other. People will always, and I mean always, pick up your weakest spot within your performance and question you around it.

A well-prepared presentation not only encompasses the content but also the design and communication strategy. It's crucial to ensure that every detail is meticulously planned, allowing you to confidently navigate through your presentation. By being aware of your current position in the creative process and having a thorough understanding of your work, you can confidently present and respond to any challenges that come your way.

This also trickles down to the presentation design, the story beats, the way you prepare the editorial. How you communicate your ideas. The more solid and prepared you come - the more you know the upside downs of your work, the higher the rate of success. If someone challenges you, better to be over prepared, have stuff under your sleeve, that you can pull off to make a point.

If you have all your systems in place, all your content on point, and you are aware what stage in the process you find yourself, you can present and respond with confidence. Confidence in presenting is not just about displaying your work; it's about showcasing your journey and the expertise that underpins every creative choice you make.

October 19, 2023

Telling Stories with AI

It's great that you can write a script and visualize it in 2 hours with the use of AI. Both Midjourney and ChatGTP this obviously unlocks creative power and speed. My original plan was to create this as a videogame experience, but it's too much time and effort which at the moment I do not have, so I'm releasing here the script with the visuals.

I'm not sure this is world class creative work, but for very little investment you can have a whole story visualized in half a day.

Although I think I got pretty close here is what the AI can't tell me: does my story suck? does my attempt at connecting certain story elements/jokes succeed? Is my story too obvious? The image prompts are quite on point to be honest -they even seem almost exactly what I had in my mind-. But that rises a lot of questions too. Are we complacent the first moment we see an idea close to what we want? Do we delegate too much to the AI? Being a director involves having a clear vision, so, is this a collab or does it really help the director creat the proper vision. I guess only the final product would tell.

At the moment, the product is the blog post. Hope you enjoy the story.

No More Moons

Immerse yourself in the dream. Picture a quaint suburban house with a barbecue sizzling, a frolicking golden retriever in the yard. Then, suddenly, consciousness breaks in.

Awake. Bewildered.

Which reality is the dream? Which is the tormenting nightmare?

Your surroundings are oddly familiar yet strange. A space station that echoes domestic comfort - a paradox, both a residence and a void fortress.

Peering through a shattered glass, your breath rasps, harsh and laboured. Your hand catches your attention, a haunting glow of "Oxygen 13%" emitting from it - a dreadfully unlucky number.

Before you, a lifeless screen. The station is plunged into an abyss, save for a solitary, foreboding red light that blinks ominously. As you advance towards it, reality warps around you. 

Abruptly, you're back in the garden, engulfed in uncanny silence, faint voices murmuring from nowhere.

An unsettling noise pierces the tranquility. A phone ringing, its screen pulsating red.

You touch it and find yourself back at the stark, cold station.

With trembling uncertainty, you approach the red button. As your fingers graze it, the lights stutter back to life, screens flicker and an eerie rumble resonates. It feels like a presence stirring in the metallic beast.

Now bathed in hesitant light, the station invites exploration. A door, slightly ajar, beckons. On it, a name - "N.N."

Crossing the threshold, you discover a journal - an antiquated relic of handwritten thoughts.

As your fingers brush the dusty cover, reality ripples and you find yourself transported to a cozy home office. Photos with blurred lines adorn the desk, next to an old computer and a tape recorder that murmurs cryptic sounds.

The computer awakens at your touch, a blinking cursor on the screen. With each press, a dire warning: "Oxygen 13%". Your helmet UI flickers. Another press - "Emergency procedure activated. Do you want to restart the oxygen systems? y/n."

Desperate, you respond: "Yes."

A haunting change suffuses the room - light filters in, revealing an infinite stretch of grass outside the window, under an impossibly massive moon hanging in broad daylight.

Suddenly, you're back at the space station, spinning wildly in the vast expanse. The office returns, a photo frame catching your eye - is that you? 

A blurred face, indistinguishable. Beside it, an image of a child slowly disappearing. Breath becomes a struggle.

The AI assist propels you towards the oxygen charging station.

In your frustration, you yell out “FUCK!”, and your wrist AI responds by displaying images of ducks. 

Amidst the chaos, a post-it note catches your eye: "Every day I am with him, I'm thinking I could not be having this moment."

Amidst the chaos, a post-it note catches your eye: 

"Every day I am with him, I'm thinking I could not be having this moment."

A whirl of emotions overcomes you, and suddenly, you're back at the workstation. On the screen, a smiley face. A recording echoes in the room.

Your world shatters and reforms, now presenting a child's room.

You see crayons, a chalkboard with a smiley face, a duck drawing, and a raccoon plush toy concealing a little spaceman.

This reality, of all possible ones, is one you've tried to forget. A sharp reminder of what you've lost. Yet, it's the one you're forced to relive. Your body is screaming in pain. You'd do anything to spend just one more day forgetting this and remembering it at the same time...

Oxygen is running low. You're back in the office. On the computer screen, the silhouette of a duck, a raccoon, and an astronaut. You play along with the 2D game. Upon completion, the oxygen level rises, providing temporary relief.

With the imminent danger momentarily averted, the station doesn't look as chaotic anymore. Still, it's dead silent.

A dark tunnel reveals itself when you open the fridge, leading to a room of infinite reflections - the multiverse in its entirety. 

Every possible version of you stares back, only with slight differences. Amidst them all, you spot him...

Wake up. You can't stand the sight of him lying there, tubes protruding from his mouth, struggling for breath. That's the only memory that stays. How do you escape this place?

Suddenly, you're back outside the house. Footsteps echo around you. The weight of the world is on your shoulders. The moon crashes towards the Earth, its fractures casting a beautiful yet terrifying purple glow.

Gravity bears down on you. You fall to your knees, the UI flashing a warning: "Oxygen low...3%." You're on the verge of hyperventilating.

You glance up at the sky. The space station glows in the distance.

All around you, the world dissolves into a riot of colors, ducks everywhere.

For a split second. You see a giant astronaut in the garden elevated. 

Again. I’m at the station. All screens have ducks. I glitch. 

Back in the garden. My screen cracks. UI has gone berserk. Nothin makes sense anymore. The astronaut glitches and it transforms into a giant plush toy raccoon. 

Looks at me. His eyes start to glow and I look at him. A child comes running to me and hugs me. I cry. Suddenly, there's nothing but darkness.

The sun is black. The Earth is still. A space station glides across the tranquil blackness, a lone red light blinking. An astronaut emerges, floats out, disappearing into the void. The Earth rotates, revealing a moon embedded into it.

Wake up...

The End.

© Ivan Flugelman 2022 Creative Direction, Design & Strategy in the Metaverse.

#metaverse