Okay, so where am I?

Up until 2007—when they joined the European Union—Bulgaria has never really been on its own. Twenty seven hundred years ago, the Thracians ruled, who were then followed by the Romans, the Byzantine Empire, the Ottoman Turks and then, finally, the Communists. After the fall of the Iron Curtain, it took quite a while for Bulgaria to get rolling. Now the country has emerged and casting its own shadows. Where the old Lenin monument stood, a statue of Sofia’s Patron Saint now casts its own shadow of protection. Under her gaze, the dark princess is said to embody the city’s East-meets-West, old-meets-new allure of reimagined Eastern Europe.

After Bulgaria gained its independence in the late 19th century, Sofia was chosen as the country’s new capital. It’s now been capital for 140 years sitting the heart of the Balkan Peninsula.

The city’s appearance today has been widely shaped by the twists and political turbulence of the 20th century. Bulgaria was a parliamentary monarchy prior to World War II. Its architecture was influenced by the examples of German, Austrian, and French. The second half of the 20th century saw Bulgaria firmly entrenched behind the Iron Curtain, dependent on the USSR’s influence and aid. It was in that time that Bulgaria’s architecture and urban planning was re-conceptualized to fit the structure of the communist ideals. Once the Soviet blockade was released in 1989, the country started its transition into democracy and is now a member of NATO and the European Union.

There’s a Bulgarian expression: B мЂтнА вода леcho ca лoви. Which means, “It is good fishing in troubled waters.” Or to the layman, by taking advantage of chaotic conditions one can easily serve one’s own purposes. In short, this think and survivalist mentality united to construct the unique blend of culture and style that personifies the nation today.

Sofia’s Patron Saint overlooks the capital.

Lots of Third Reich and World War II memorabilia at the flea markets.

There’s a huge farmer’s market underneath these ruins.

The National Theatre

Communism sculpture has been replaced with ones of love and hope.

A photographer’s delight.

Momento Park

Fresh fruits at the farmer’s market.

Communism buildings and lifestyles still permeate.

Buy a train ticket can be challenging.

Inside the gypsy ghetto on the outskirts of Sofia.

Abandoned market en route to Plovdiv.

The snow closer to the Balkan Mountains can be formidable.

Welcome to the Bulgarian Communist Party Headquarters in Buzludzha, located in the Central Balkan Mountains: Elevation, 5,000 feet. I visited here twice on the same trip: before and after the snowfall. You get two dynamically different views of this amazing journal of Communist Grandeur. Construction began in 1974 and was opened in 1981. It was built by the Bulgarian communist regime commemorating the secretly organized movement by Dimitar Blagoev in 1891 that led to formation of Social Democratic Party, the precursor to the Bulgarian Communist Party.

This building is an example of Brutalist architecture. Raw concrete and massive, fortress like structures were popular with Communist governments and institutions. it was not considered a style but an expression of “moral seriousness.” “Let generation after generation of socialist and communist Bulgaria come here, to bow down before the feats and the deeds of those who came before; those who lived on this land and gave everything they had to their nation. Let them feel that spirit that ennobles us and as we empathize with the ideas and dreams of our forefathers, so let us experience that same excitement today! Glory to Blagoev and his followers; those first disciples of Bulgarian socialism, who sowed the immortal seeds of today’s Bulgarian Communist Party in the public soul!” -Bulgarian Communist leader Todor Zhivkov, at the opening ceremony of the monument.
The collapse of the Soviet Union caused Buzludzha’s closure in 1989.

The post The 43 Postcards Project: Bulgaria appeared first on Media Guy Struggles.

From the New York Times: “…the city has a centuries-old tradition of solo exploration, personified by the flâneur, or stroller. Flânerie is, in its purest form, a goal-less pursuit, though for some it evolved into a purposeful art: Walking and observing became a method of understanding a city, an age. Baudelaire described the flâneur as a passionate spectator, one who was fond of ‘botanizing on the asphalt,’ as the essayist Walter Benjamin would later put it.”

Okay, so where am I?

Whelp, I’m not in Paris, but in a few paragraphs we will be transported there…hang tight.

Actually, I am still home in the beautiful confines of my Encino California Compound. Other that to get my mail, bread, and fresh fruit, I have been sequestered here riding out the Coronavirus since the Los Angeles-mandated prohibition started two weeks ago on my birthday.

In addition to missing out on a pretty stellar Disneyland birthday, I had two Japanese commercials wiped out because of the travel ban (postponed, not cancelled) and now I am having NBA and NHL withdrawals along with some severe cabin fever. Thank goodness— along with my family, friends and colleagues—I am safe.

I was planning to meet Margrét, My New Favorite Amazon Model, because the last time I spoke with her she was at the Baghdad Café lamenting bout trying to due her clothesless craft amongst families and kids roaming around the tourist trap over two years ago. But with all of the city shutdowns, we had to cancel and move to a video conference to catchup. Ah, the new world of “Stay At Home” work and friendships.

So just to catch you up—or you can scroll all the way down to end and read the previous columns— Margrét is a nude model who travels the world taking her clothes off in the pursuit of her art. It’s never going to make her rich, but it makes her happy and a happy Margrét makes the world a better place…

Media Guy: You usually stick close to the Western USA, but is it true you are stuck outside the country?

Margrét, My New Favorite Amazon Model: I would say luckily I was in France when all of the Coronavirus lockdows and travel bans went into effect, but Paris is a drag without all of the cuisine and museums and sights.But I’m making the best of it trying to go all Hemingway with my introspective writing at abandoned city sites soaking in the essence of the land.

MG: What were you up to before for the country ground to a halt?

MMNFAM: I was doing my thing with this self-photography exhibition on the French Countryside when, well, imagine four dudes breaking down 300 meters from my camera lens in their big Mercedes hauler. Now imagine then not knowing how to fix their hauler and I roll up on them to help. Except I wasn’t wearing more than a Nikon lens cover! I bet they never expected help to come in the form of an intrepid nude model.

MG: But I imagine that’s exactly what happened, right? And how did you pull that off?

MMNFAM: Imagine the look on these French bros’ faces when a second nude model, my roommate, rolled up in an Aston Martin with a back seat full of tools. I’m telling you, it was like MacGyver met French Baywatch. The only thing mission was were our red one-piece swimsuits so that we could have run over in slow motion. I’m guessing they were fairly pleased with two mostly nude chicks fixing their timing belts while the fought to keep their jaws from dropping.

MG: I’ve often wondered about the fine line you’re walking when it comes to nude modeling because some of the readers say you are reinforcing sexist stereotypes of scantily clad women (or unclad) women on film.

MMNFAM: It’s what I battle with on a regular basis with my modeling, because what is considered arty can be pretty hokey and sexist. But I figure God blessed me with a certain look and I get to control my destiny with what I charge and the situations I ultimately wind up in. At the end of the day, it’s a more honest living that some of the mucky-mucks in banking or on Wall Street.

MG: You’re doing well these days?

MMNFAM: My modeling affords me an income to support my home and my adventures. I stay off social media to avoid stalkers and weirdos and in the last five years I have shot in 31 countries. It’s a great way to make a living,

MG: What has shaped up as your specialty as of late?

MMNFAM: My specialty is artistic nudes, when translated to the layman means non-erotic nudes set in contrast against the landscapes of the world. Everyone wants this fit brunette against beautiful scenery. I love the work because it gets me outdoors. I don’t have to sit at a desk answering emails all day ad in turn I get to experience the remarkably attractive world that few ever get to see like I do. Modeling gets old pretty quick, I feel like exploring the outdoors doesn’t.

MG: What is it about the outdoors that has kept you employed all of these years?

MMNFAM: Guys will forever have a curiously mysterious hard-on for a curvy, firm backside in a ruptured landscape. I do a lot of posing in fantasy landscapes—mountains, lakes, log cabins—but the ones that garner the biggest paydays come from the most dilapidated settings like old warehouses, crumbling buildings, salt mines, abandoned parks, civil wars zones. There must be something about rotting cities that is some sort of aphrodisiac that appeals to many a photographer. The contrast of luscious nubile skin against corroded timeworn building carcasses is an age-old fantasy that will probably never go out of style. Like the Birth of Venus painting only set in Chernobyl.

MG: So your quest for post-apocalyptic ruins has taken you on a journey all over the world?

MMNFAM: With a little bit of investigating, you can find some truly extraordinary rubble to photograph and when it comes to ruin nude modeling, the Baltics and Eastern Europe are pretty much the gold standard. It’s like a Disneyland of desolation and tetanus. These areas are some that you’ve only heard about in the deep recesses of the news and now the whole region has essentially been ignored and neglected due to its being left in a state of disrepair after the boys took their weapons and petty differences and went home.

MG: And you’re finding the same in Paris?

MMNFAM: Oh no, much different here. A did a month-long series in and around Paris, fully-clothed doing a full-on Greta Garbo meets Breakfast At Tiffany’s motif. You know, it was easy to surrender in Paris to the moment. The alchemy of everything metamorphosed average activities into pleasurable ones; a stroll in the park, a cappuccino at a sidewalk café…you name it. Here, I dragged the edge of a butter knife across a baguette with a style better suited to gliding a bow across a Stratavarious. And today, with almost nobody around it is still quite the same. I am here on my own. My residence is paid for until July. I worked enough not to book another job until August and I am sponging in the city in my own post-apocalyptic illusion. In a city that has been honing splendor since the reign of Napoleon III, there are immeasurable sensual minutiae—patterns, touches, tints, hums—that can be mitigated, even overlooked, when babbling with someone or following a locked in schedule. Alone. one becomes deeply aware of the resonating clack of high heels in a park walkway; the patina of the gas lamps that light the city, the effervescence of the blue sky on a cloudless day; and how the empty wine bottles laid gently next to the recycling bins are the epitome of your neighbor’s good times.
There is a Paris that acutely repays the individual traveler.

MG: So all of this adds up to another fantastic chapter in the Book of Margrét, My New Favorite Amazon Model?

MMNFAM: It’s a fantastic book I am living. I hope it never ends. Au revior!

The post Virtually Live From Paris with Margrét, My New Favorite Amazon Model appeared first on Media Guy Struggles.

Okay, so where am I?

It was time to go north of the border to help out with some family things, but also to continue to doing research and interviews for my Kontinental Hockey League book. This time my travels took me once again to Montreal, Canada.

Maybe you don’t know Montreal. Maybe you think it’s that crazy city in that crazy provence that wanted to cede from Canada. Maybe you don’t care at all. I do, because Montreal is the Mecca of all hockey. The home of the greatest concentration of championships in the National Hockey League. Anywhere there’s hockey finds me an invites me metaphorically to explore the city and take in a game. But there’s more to Montreal than just hockey.

Montreal is a city with considerable French colonial history dating back to the 16th century. It began as a missionary settlement but soon became a fur-trading center. The city’s St. Lawrence River location proved to be a major advantage in its development as a manufacturing, financial, and transportation center. Montreal was the largest metropolitan center in the country from 1867, at the time of the Confederation of Canada until Toronto overtook it in the 1970s. It stands as the second largest French-speaking city in the world (after Paris).

The city has been a immigrant destination and is widely considered to be a cosmopolitan celebration of Québécois style. Montreal remains a city of great charm, vivacity, and gaiety, as well as one of unquestioned modernity. In short, Montreal is c’est si bon.

Fans enter the Bell Centre for the Montreal Canadiens game.

Bonsecours Market in Old Montreal.

The iconic hearts sculpture outside the Musee des Beaux Arts.

Rinkside at the Montreal vs. Carolina NHL game.

Love is in the air.

The Monument à George-Étienna Cartier

Outside of Parts, Montreal has the world’s finest French food.

Unique single-wind walk up stairs line the city.

The Basilique Notre-Dame is a confection of stained glass.

The post The 43 Postcards Project: Montreal appeared first on Media Guy Struggles.

Okay, so where am I?

My quest to build content for my Kontinental Hockey League book intensifies, this time in Saint Petersburg, Russia.

Maybe you don’t know Saint Petersburg. Maybe you think it’s a city in Florida. Maybe you don’t care. I do because the once capital city of Russia rapidly became one of my favorite cities on the world. I’ll devote a full column this month to the wonders it holds but in the meantime, a fast overview of its history. The city is not named for Tsar Peter the Great, aka Peter the I, but Saint Peter, one of the 12 apostles of Jesus Christ. Still, Peter the Tsar, who ruled Russia from 1682 until his death in 1725, is the city’s true father. Blessed with being nearly seven feet tall and also being very good at winning wars, Russia became a European powerhouse under his reign. After his victory against the Swedish Empire in the Great Northern War opened up the Baltic region, he founded Saint Petersburg in 1703 as a new, modern, westward-looking capital of the Russian Empire, a frontier town designed in the image of European cities, to integrate Russia into Europe. It is also the home city of President Vladimir Putin, who worked first for the Leningrad branch of the KGB and later in the mayor’s office, but Peter will always be number one here.

Before I get to the meat of this column (the visuals), I want to give a special hats off to Firebird Tours as they delivered opportunity after opportunity to get up close with Saint Petersburg and the people of Russia. Seems to me that I can no more book a trip without them as I can travel without my trusty camera to capture life, personalities, and cityscapes we seldom knew existed. Take a peek at my 16 favorites from a handful of days in the city that was the imperial capital for two centuries.

The post The 43 Postcards Project: Saint Petersburg appeared first on Media Guy Struggles.

Okay, so where am I?

It’s the start of the year and with my Kontinental Hockey League book deal in place I set onto to Moscow to interview as many ex-players, executives, and broadcasters as possible. I only had a few days before my itinerary called for an overnight train trip to Saint Petersburg, so time was of the essence.

Moscow wasn’t the capital of Russia. When it was first mentioned in historical records in approximately 1140, it was simply a small town of little importance. Muscovites today consider Prince Yury Dolgoruky their city’s founding father, but it was only recorded that he dined with friends in the town of “Moskov,” named after the local Moscow River. It remains unclear exactly when this town was established, but at the time of Dolgoruky it was governed by a noble called Kuchka, who fell out with the prince over taxes and was sentenced to death.

A small fortress was built on Borovitsky Hill by Dolgoruky’s son, Prince Andrei Bogolyubsky; it was the first in a long succession of structures that eventually became the Moscow Kremlin. Moscow remained a small town while the nearby city of Vladimir rose in prominence and overtook Kiev, the old capital, in importance. Moscow’s luck would change only later.

I grew up during the Cold War: a time of border standoffs, spy-versus-spy intrigues and the bristling tensions of the Berlin Wall. Today Moscow’s glittering malls and stylish cafes might seem light years away from the gray concrete and paranoia of that era — a period that stretched from the end of World War II in 1945 to the dissolution of the Soviet Union in 1991 — but its remnants are everywhere. From bunker complexes to rusting MiG fighter jets to the vestiges of long-defunct secret weapons programs, Moscow is a living museum of the epoch that shaped the 20th century.

During this trip I stayed close to Red Square in the plush Ararat Park Hyatt conducting my interviews from their luxurious 10th floor lounge with the best panoramic views in Moscow. Taking a quick trip with me around town in these 20 visuals captured in my few free minutes in the city.

The post The 43 Postcards Project: Moscow appeared first on Media Guy Struggles.

Okay, so where am I?

I’m in Finland. Part vacation, part business trip. I am here to see the sights and to work on my Kontinental Hockey League book. Interviewing former players, executives, and broadcasters is much easier when you have the beauty of Scandinavia as a backdrop.

I breezed through this country in record time it seems and, well, Finland. It’s been a blast. Who knew this little Nordic country of 5.2 million could deliver so many micro-memories through the characters and souls I met in seven short days (and by short, I mean really short with less than five hours of sunlight each winter day). Take a reflective journey with me through a curated gallery of 11 captures that rest in my lens (and now in this blog).

The post The 43 Postcards Project: Finland appeared first on Media Guy Struggles.

Currently I’m in the midst of In the midst of planning a photo shoot, Yeah yeah, I hear you. Rent a space, show up with a camera and some pretty models and push the little button on your camera. Nope, it’s not that easy, but more on that later.

I took a quick break from planning because some more great news was delivered in the mailbox this morning. I am humbled by the notification that I received announcing my 12th and 13th lifetime Telly Awards*. Just like last week, these two are the super elite Gold Awards.

This is especially good for my inner being since I’m an awards junkie. I want to own the advertising world and now the resume can list that’s 13 Tellys, two CLIOs, two Emmy Awards, a Davey Award, a Communicator Award, and a bunch of others.

* – What’s a Telly Award? Well…”The Telly Awards honors the very best film & video productions, groundbreaking online video content, and outstanding local, regional, & cable tv commercials and programs.”

Here are a couple of outtakes from the two-picture photo combo that was the foundation of a European ad series (these were generated from months and months of planning) and ultimately earned the Telly awards:

Now, back to the planning. Hear me now when I tell you that the best images that appear in print are snapped with the mostly basic tools of photography. If you have a keen eye, most likely you will be able to view the photos and tell what the light sources are from the shadows that embrace the models, where it comes from, and begin to understand what went into making this particular production special. Most out there can follow your recipe, use the same tools, yet fall short of the brilliant plan and theme you devised.

Buy the book…trust me! (It’s not even my book!)

The difference makers are the little things that all come together perfectly. You know the old adage by Aristotle, “The whole is greater than the sum of its parts.” This truly applies to a photo shoot. The perfect formula of parts make a huge impact and until you are able to plan these advertising or editorial events solo, you’ll want to be meticulous about the obvious fundamentals that turn something regular into an editor’s choice or something worthy of a cover.

First things, first. The theme…idea…concept.

I’ve been talking about the Big Idea forever. Stumble into one an you’ll be a star in your industry for a very long time. A star similar to a country singer who gets a top 10 hit and makes money from that one-hit wonder for decades. Yeah, that’s the ticket. Chances are, if you’re in charge of the creative, you have dozens of idea that rumble through your mind. Keep a journal handy and make sure you jot down everything that flies through because you’ll forget them minutes later. You have nothing to lose by writing it all down. It will even spur new ideas. Brainstorm it out in your own head. Find the process that creates genius. Trust me, your ideas will flourish in due time. Sketch, draw, highlight, dream. Visualize your ideas and come back to them later and add to them. They might not work for this shoot, but it will work for something, some day.

If you’re not good at revving up your creative engine, then you need to practice. Try investing $11 into Wreck This Journal which very productive to teach your brain how to go against the norm and fosters big ideas. Do the whole book and then graduate into the black book journaling.

Now the little big things.

You might say that the location, timing and equipment are really big things. But you are probably wrong. One of my best photos—that made a lot of money and was my country singer star moment—used a 20D Canon, the hallway of colleague’s apartment, and a makeshift Soviet Cosmonaut helmet made from throwaway materials from Goodwill and $3 of paint.

Location – $50. Model – $250. Materials – $39. Results – Priceless.

For my private exhibition shoots, I use no lighting and a Canon 80D and clean it all up in Photoshop afterwards. You too can use minimum gear for your production. You could go all crazy and gear up with a rented studio filled to the gills with outrageous doohickeys to light up your set and create the illusion of a big show. It’s up to you, but many times, less is more.

Many of my photographer colleagues trust in modest natural sunlight as the primary light source. Sure, sometimes they add reflectors, but that’s still an easy photo hack that will make you look like less of a, uh, hack. Research is vital and remember that if you pick a location, it might require permits or simply not look good as the backdrop you want. Take some quick test photos and tinker around with them before you fully commit.

If you feel strongly about your idea, do not listen to the naysayers who want to poke holes in your vision. Any location you chose could be an incredible choice is it fuses theme with reality. You can use guesthouse or living room with some rudimentary lights, an ironed bed sheet, or paper backdrops. It won’t be expensive and could save you a wad of cash for a studio. Even a hotel room might be a better option and give you the elements you need. It all depends on your concept. All of this works until you land that really big client or can afford to build your own studio, A studio gives extra advantages of an atmosphere where natural light is essentially non-existent. You regulate and control the environment with artificial light sources that can be purchased on the cheap on eBay or second-hand at a local camera store.

Outside shoots are different. Invest in some magazines or photography books, or even an online course to broaden your knowledge of this type of shooting. (READ: It ain’t easy Mr. Know-it-all!] The biggest factors are your positioning and time. Do it right and you will have beautiful dramatic results. Do it wrong and you’ve wasted a lot of time and paid models for nothing.

Speaking of models…

Talent matters…

If you have a lousy model, you aren’t going to get what you want. Quite frankly, you are going to fail. Models mean a lot and this isn’t the time to give someone a shot. You have to believe in who you choose. If want a successful shoot, don’t go cheap on the model. Figure out a price point and agree to it. You don’t want to be called out for being cheap. Despite most not having extra pounds on their frame, models have to eat too!

Finding someone privately or direct is a good start. Try Model Mayhem. You can post casting calls and your inbox will fill up depending on the assignment and rate you post. If you go the agency route, it will cost more and it will come with a fair amount of restrictions. Think long and hard on that. If you go the private route, make sure to download a model release and make sure it is signed before the day of the shoot. Rights should revert to you or your client alone. Models should be compensated properly and up front.

If you are going with a larger commercial shoot, residuals might have to be worked out and you need to be transparent with everything when you are dealing with talent. Don’t be tricky.

Teamwork makes the dream work. When choosing the crew, make sure you build one that has a “can do, will do, want to” mentality. Teaming a crew is the hardest thing you’ll do when planning a photo shoot. Everyone needs to understand your objectives and bring their best to the set. This is easier if you are shooting a larger scale print ad and your agency will have built in resources. Even better is when your models come with their own hair and makeup. They have their own synergy and their price points are pre-negotiated. If you’re working solo then you need to be diligent to set budgets, gain commitments, and get your team motivated.

So, who do you need on your crew? Like I said, if you’re going big you will need a wardrobe stylist, a set decorator, a makeup artist, a hairstylists, and a right hard catch-all production assistant.

Now that you have these steps, all you have to do is let your imagination run wild and get a group of people to buy into your wacky creative. Don’t stop at speed bumps. Plow through them and seek out your country song that carves your place in the photography world.

When in doubt, call up the Media Guy.

I can walk you through it all.

The post Awards Season plus the Perfect Photo Shoot appeared first on Media Guy Struggles.

What am I always doing? Looking for that big idea. The ever elusive big idea. I get about two a two and one of them usually works out. I find those big ideas typically when I’m getting ready for a trip or actually on a trip. Traveling is my happy spot. My creative spot. The place where the juices flow and the ideas are crystalized.

Why is that you wonder?

It’s as simple as traveling will change your life. It’s as simple as when you’re traveling, you experienced that tingle…that sensation of being reconciled with life itself. That tingle is is because when you when you travel, you open your mind. You become more tolerant. You’re able to understand your prejudices and give yourself time to unravel it slowly as you live through your new vision of the world around you.

View Gallery in Flickr

Travel is the most authentic way to get to know the world, but also to really get to know the prejudices we carry around with us, without blinding ourselves to them . We automatically assume that our way of understanding life, our day to day living, is the correct one. And when we travel we discover “how strange” the other people are, and how “strange” we can be too.

“What strange customs these “foreigners” have!”, “Why do they do that?”, “He’s making a fool of himself…” These are phrases you’ve probably heard a number of times, or they might even be phrases that you yourself have pronounced.

View Gallery in Flickr

The biggest prejudice: “mine is right, yours is wrong.” We tend to have a kind of bias when we interpret the information we receive all around us. Whatever is our own, whatever is familiar to us, whatever we are used to seeing and doing…that is what we consider to be “normal”. Whatever doesn’t fit in with our own customs is “strange”. It’s as if there’s a dividing line between what is right and what is wrong. Between the proper way of doing and understanding things, and the strange, bizarre way of doing them.

To understand this better, let’s give an example. If you are a calm and composed person, think about how you felt at some point in your life when a sudden burst of anger challenged your powers of self-control. You probably felt strange and awkward at the same time, because people who don’t often get angry, often do not know how to get angry.

The truth is that even if we are normally calm and composed, anger is still a part of us, ready to explode. Our different nuances form and shape us. We shouldn’t try to deny or cover up essential parts of our being simply because they aren’t what we normally express.

View Gallery in Flickr

Whatever is our own, whatever is familiar to us, whatever we are used to seeing and doing, that is what is “normal”

Our culture shapes us, but it does not define us. Something similar happens when we travel. We shouldn’t claim that only our understanding of things comes from common sense, and that of others’ comes from a meaningless stroke of luck. People and their customs are shaped from their cultural heritage, social environment and surroundings.

Our surroundings shape and mould us from childhood. And so the experiences in which we relate to people who are different to us, when we leave our usual environment, travel and try out different routines – they are the ones that start to break our genetic mould. When we are able to look at what is “foreign” with the eyes of curiosity and not of prejudice, then we are taking a big step on the road to tolerance.

Claiming that our way of understanding life is the only correct and meaningful one is a very limited way of thinking and one that, rather than enriching us, will bring us poverty, poverty in our soul. We should understand that true wealth comes from the lessons we learn day by day in our lives. Lessons that make us more open and tolerant.

View Gallery on Flickr

Look at life with curiosity and with prejudice. If only we could stop contemplating our navel and take a look beyond – a look of generosity and healthy curiosity. A look that is a ticket to other souls, other ways of thinking, other ways of living. I rid myself of my prejudice and look at you, stranger, with open arms. With my soul ready to learn.

You will learn to examine your experiences. You will have time to continue to build yourself as a person, keeping what you want and getting rid of what you don’t want in your life. But if you relate to the world with your eyes closed, you will not be able to see anything. Only darkness. And sometimes a terrifying darkness at that. If you open them, you will see the light.

The light that opens you up to life … the light that will take you on the road to tolerance.

The post Traveling Will Change Your Life appeared first on Media Guy Struggles.

I know the world is a lunatic cesspool full of bad people, but why do we need so many superheroes? When I was a kid, even until 1989, we got by with the Big Two: Batman and Superman. Now, I am getting all geeked up for Ant-Man and The Wasp (a sequel no less to the original Ant-Man that made Paul Rudd a superhero)…yes Paul Rudd.

Yet I digress…

Things were a lot easier when the Big Two were battling the same super villains over and over again. Now every superhero is a superstar. Take Thor from the planet of Asgard. He wanders around with a mini sledgehammer and was the the ace in the hole in the latest Avengers movie. We all know what happened to him (right?). Batman or Superman would never let that happen.

Blank Panther made a big splash at the box office recently. Until I was dragged to the theater I thought it was a biopic about Bobby Seale or Huey Newton. Everywhere I look there are super heroes getting their own movies, Silver Surfer, Aquaman, The Thing, The Green Lantern. Speaking of the Green Lantern, his power is in his ring, yet the ring is hooked to a battery. I mean, you cannot make this stuff up.

(I guess you quite literally can.)

Serious question: Are the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles super heroes? It’s almost like asking if a hot dog or a wrap is a sandwich. You might get a 50-50 split, yes or no, if you asked 100 people Family Feud-style.

Really, the only super heroes you ever really need is Batman or Superman. And, if you live in the real world, Margrét, My New Favorite Amazon Model is all you need.

Okay, so where am I?

I’m meeting Margrét in South Central Los Angeles, helping her out with a western hat ad comp she’s trying to get off the ground. I mean, who am I to say no?

(For those of you wondering why she’s a big deal in The Media Guy lore, scroll to the bottom and take the primer and read the three previous columns, including the first one from 2014 which still remains the top post of all time.) And, for regular readers, catch up with the queen of the birthday suit.

Media Guy: I heard a bunch of stories about your showdown with Betty Rage, how did that go down?

Margrét, My New Favorite Amazon Model: You may recall that last time I mud-rassled, I accidentally ingested some of the chocolate pudding “mud,” and was afflicted with terrible stomach flu afterward. Well, this time I knew better, so made sure to keep my lips shut, and to shower off thoroughly afterward. This rassling experience was better all-around than my last time, which you might recall was slightly scarring since I only got a $40 bid to be my towel boy — well, this time, some poor drunk guy bid $60 on me, and paid up….but he was so wasted that they had to escort him out of the bar before he had a chance to get in the ring with me. So they auctioned me off a second time, and this awesome British dude bid another $60 on me — and he was cool. He helped me defeat my first opponent, Kombat Kitty…but then I faced off against Betty Rage, and she beat me silly. Oh well, you can’t win ’em all!

MG: What a wacky gig! Surely there are better ways to drum up modeling gigs…

MMNFM: In this #MeToo #TimesUp culture, nude modeling has taken a real hit, which is a true shame. One is that historically, with a few exceptions, the nude is mainly a phenomenon of Western art. The other is that from very early on, the nude male and the nude female are treated quite differently and have different roles to play. The male nude body in Greek sculpture was used both for portrayals of ideal heroes – gods and idealized portraits of real heroes, notably the champions at the Olympic games. This brings up another basic aspect of the nude in art, its sometimes uneasy relationship to sexual desire. The entrenched homo-eroticism of ancient Greek society clearly has a good deal to do with the pre-eminence of the heroic male nude. In fact, around the 4th century BC, Praxitales and other sculptors did begin depicting nude females, notably the goddess of love, Aphrodite. But it remained indecorous for female portraits to depict nudity. More generally, a double standard where male and female nudity was concerned, persisted through the period of Roman sculpture and, indeed, right up to modern times, though its terms of reference frequently changed.

MG: So wacky gigs are the way to go?

MMNFM: One final wacky gig I did lately was act as concierge for this group of rowdy drunken Canadian guys who come out every year to play golf and cat around: I caddied for them last year, and they were so taken with me that this year they hired me to arrange everything. The first day, I set up a nude photo shoot with me and my fellow Goddess Collective members up at Red Rock Canyon — we drove the guys out there and posed for female-on-female art shots for a couple hours, and a great time was had by all. Then the next day, we all met up at a local golf course and proceeded to booze our way around the course, taking all manner of salacious photos and engaging in all kinds of naughty shenanigans involving strategically-placed golf tees and lots of puns involving the word “balls.” The final day, we were all supposed to get a cabana at one of the big pool parties, but the weather had turned shitty so we ended up just getting wasted at their hotel Jacuzzi, then going to the nightclub and getting messed up til all hours of the night.

Now, I haven’t set foot in a nightclub since the days when I was working at one…and guess what? It was just as abhorrent an experience as I recalled! This particular place was especially lame and unremarkable — they actually had the gall to hire that tired moron from Jersey Shore, Pauly D, as DJ! Even worse, all the star-struck, farm girls in the crowd were absolutely stoked, holding up their cell phones to capture footage of this momentous occasion. JEEZ!

Still, I’m not sure what happened but I ended up having a fantastic time — I was dressed really sloppily, in leggings and flip-flops (remember, we were boozing at the pool all day), but something happened and I went bat shit dancing, burning about 1,000,000 calories and having a really good time, despite the horrible DJ and lame-ass environment…so I guess it wasn’t all bad! The only downside was, after all that I felt like I’d been hit by a giant alcoholic Canuck bus — I mean, I was exhausted when those guys left! I don’t know how they did it.

MG: You used to be the belle of the ball, working every party which leads to me wondering if there have been any good parties lately.

MMNFM: The best party I went to lately was this amazing Burning-Man-themed bicycle pub crawl organized by one of my neighbors, called Blinking Man. Twice a year, about 300-400 wackos in costumes ride bikes covered in blinking lights all over downtown Vegas, stopping at four or five bars along the way for drinks and fun. This one group carts around a full DJ setup, and we basically have raves in all the parking lots we stop at along the way –

– it’s a RIOT! I went with some of my neighbors and friends, and even my roommate made an appearance, Rollerblading around half-naked in an Indian headdress and a G-string. NICE! All in all I was out til about 2am, pedaling furiously about the streets of downtown Vegas, dancing and drinking and getting merry like Christmas. NO WONDER I’M TIRED — that was my day off!!!

Previous Margrét, My New Favorite Amazon Model Columns:

NSFW: At the Baghdad Cafe with Margrét>>October 16, 2017

Catching up with Margrét>>March 9, 2015

Nude Modeling>>February 2, 2014

The post The Summer of Superheroes and Margrét, My New Favorite Amazon Model appeared first on Media Guy Struggles.

Where else would I be but at the office, where I spend 60 hours of every non-vacation week. I am trying to get that inspiration for, not only that new campaign that’s due on Friday, but also that mysterious new commercial campaign for Smokey the Bear. My cluttered office and desk isn’t helping my forward thrust…

…or is it…?

From NBC’s The Office:

Michael: “They say a cluttered desk means a cluttered mind. Well I say that an empty desk means a…” 

Dwight: “Empty mind.” 

Michael: “No, that’s not… no, that’s not what I was going to say.”

On any given day, my office might be described as “antique store chic.” On a bad one? A garage sale from the sixties.

The words, concepts and occasional dumpster fire springing from this laptop follow a similar pattern. This isn’t Mad Men with their fancy set dressers with unlimited budgets, and there’s no grandiose or calculated master decor scheme. Just a bunch of things that I like and some I have earned.

I have no interest in protracted exposure to junk that I can’t stand, especially in the modern era where you you can bring in inspirational inducing items at the click of a button. I’m all about immersing myself around karma voodoo in the form of good luck juju and the eclectic aura of neat things. It’s my hope that surrounding myself with these things that I’m subconsciously fostering work that will rub off on my team as well.

The Mercedes of Candy Jars
One of these mid-century marvels sits tall and proud on the corner of my desk on the fifth floor (easily the best collection of creative minds this side of those fancy boutique agencies up north in Silicon Valley). In lieu of constantly begging co-workers and staff to stay for meetings, this is the next best thing. The bait of sitting through another of my long-winded stories and analysis, I set out this bait in the form of Hershey’s Kisses. My 14K gold rimmed jar holds a full gallon of these babies. Amazon loves my frequent orders (I talk a lot.)

Go
No office should ever be without some hockey stuff, so here’s a kitschy bobblehead featuring Los Angeles Kings mascot Bailey with a simple handheld sign saying: “Go”. Not only is the king of the jungle encouraging you to climb every mountain, but also he could be saying “get the hell out of my office, resulting in a true win-win.

The Book Pyramid
Reading is the backbone of knowledge. Sometimes when the creativity is blocked I read a paragraph or two to get it all following again. Think: Mental Ex-Lax. Also book #1, $7, and #9 were written by me and that’s pretty cool when someone wants to challenge writing styles…so that’s pretty cool.

Dear Mike:
Jeff Katzenberg missed me one day and (actually) penned a note to prove it. I feel like Sally Field* every time I read this. And, yes, that’s an autographed 8×10 from Uncle Miltie.

National Order of the Cedar
Getting an award from a foreign government is never easy. But the work to earn one can be a fun one. In the mid- to late-2000s, I convinced the (some of the) world that the Middle East was a great place for American tourists (before the W., the Arab Spring and Hillary ruined it all) to visit on vacation. In true Lebanese hospitality, the municipality of Beirut awarded me this fancy medal as a thank you in 2006. Oh, I have stories…just pull up a chair and grab some Hershey’s Kisses.

Vlad, The Russian Ghost
I tell people the Russian Ghost is there to talk to the real ghosts in my office. Truth be told, the ghost is a prop from the Disney Story when that had rad displays that harkened back to the New York City Windows of yesterday. The chapeau that sits atop Vlad is an authentic Soviet Officer’s handcrafted at the end of the Communist era in my great grandparent’s hometown of Odessa. Robert Mueller never called to investigate if Vlad was involved in the election hacking, so it didn’t go as poorly as it could have. Either way, he’s probably safer here channeling to the spirits that visit after dusk.

Nuts
Everyone wants to be a good dad and this jar of roasted and salted peanuts was a Father’s Day gift, circa 2004. I try to trick myself into believing the label was typed by my son. I do know, however, that the peanuts on top were painted by him. Don’t eat my nuts, they are at least 14 years old now.

The Oscar of Advertising
I saw a Clio Award on eBay for $149 for the opening bid. Mine was much more expensive: it cost me my first marriage.

Vintage Photography
I fancy myself as a photographer. To prove it, I have my original Kodak Instamatic and Brownie cameras.

The Voice of the Proletariat 
Even when you are part of management you have to connect with the people. I mean, everyone wants their voice heard. I picked up this Solidarity flag on a trip to Poland so the informed in the office know I believe in the people. It hangs in front of my Bourgeois first place golf trophy I won at some country club in 1999.

Judging Fish
This quotation alludes to a long-standing allegorical framework. It is inappropriate to judge an animal by focusing on a skill which the creature does not possess. A fish is specialized to swim superbly, and its ability to climb a tree is non-existent or rudimentary. In the workplace, I believe that you find what someone is good at and keep them in that lane until they want, and can handle more. The result? I’ve had the same team for nearly five years. Work happiness equals real happiness.

* – Sally Field

See her speech for winning the Oscar® for Best Actress for her performance in “Places in the Heart” at the 57th Academy Awards® in 1985…skip to the 03:34 mark to the money quote.

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