From the vault 1.1

March 2006, I was assigned to write an erotic short story that could be viewed on the web for a liquor brand that wanted to target females that like to read. I had a filled time writing this joint. Enjoy. *Note: Women over-index on book purchases and book clubs.

Red Moments

She patiently waited for him to arrive. The lights were dimmed and music softly played setting the mood for the evening. This will let him know what I want as soon as he gets in the door, she said to herself. As the thought of his fingertips gently rubbing across her lower back danced in her head she reminisced over that moment in the elevator. Everything between them happened so spontaneously. One glance was all it took. No matter where they were. Never did a thought go into who might be stealing a peek. In fact the thought of them entertaining others was more of a turn-on. Given her drawn curtains that would normally hide the view of her home from the world. There was no doubt in her mind that the residents in the building across from her enjoyed every moment of them they could catch. The scent of the passion fruit candle she burned in anticipation intoxicated her imagination. Her body trembled at the thought of his lips gently placed against her ear whispering her name. The thought of his smooth baritone voice formed beads of sweat between the creases of her breast. Closing her eyes slowly, she drifted off into a memory of heat being shared between them. She could feel the sheets wrapped around them, as they escaped deeper and deeper into each other's darkness. Hands clasped tighter and tighter as moans were exchanged. As the thought of legs, arms and bodies intertwined trapped her in a moment of ecstasy, the doorbell rang.

Katrina happened 3 years ago. Word?

I created this campaign out of frustration. New Orleans and the Gulf still looks like a damn bomb hit it and it seems as though most folks have forgotten about it until the "anniversary" comes up. I was once told by a good friend to watch how often I create from a space of pain, but on this issue right here, I don't mind having it as a notch on my anger belt.

*The tag line reads: Ignorance hinders progress. Renew Orleans.

**Sidebar: Why do we say the word "anniversary" on the annual remembrance of sad happening? The word gives off such a happy vibe and in the context of natural disasters and ill shit the word "anniversary" should have no place. That's just me, though.

my home girls daddy was clean for 17 years
now he's back on that shit
after the storm hit
and we're worried about another celebrities meltdown
and we're worried about Georgia gettin' bombed
and we're worried about temporary relief at the gas pump
and some how we forgot about those on the gulf coast
who are still attempting to put their lives back together
while havin' nightmares every time they close their eyes

See what had happened was

Dorthy ended up in a twister, was knocked upside the head by a window shutter and ended up in OZ. Me, well, I was assisting Pete Jones at Studio 612 back home in St. Louis and landed on a page in the PDN advertising this place called Miami Ad School.

I arrived at the doors of Miami Ad, September 2002, no more than a poet turned photographer who got this bright idea to be an Art Director who later turned to Copywriting, for obvious reasons. After touring with HBO, bouncing around the globe literally with Miami Ad here I was on graduation day, March 2005, free styling about how I didn't get into this game of advertising to sell folks a car with a song.

See I'm an 80's baby that grew up in the 90's. I remember the power of PSA's, Nike ads, good jingles and progressive hip-hop. I seek to inject all the goodness I remember from those day into the current, well, because someone needs to do it. Issues still need to be addressed. Movements can still be initiated by a strong point of view. Everybody deserves to have a good jingle stored in their subconscious to give them something to sing while stuck in traffic. As for hip-hop, that's a whole other story all together.

Welcome to the world of a poet in advertising.

my grandmomma has no idea what i do
no matter how many times i try to explain it to her
she just keeps tellin' me, no matter what it is you do
be responsible

*the copy on the card in the print is the same as the copy in the tv spot.