Last thoughts in Paris

End of a busy week. And which might – just might – be my last week as an actual down-to-earth, hands-dirty, sod-busting contract creative resource.

The trouble is…

… I like this stuff too much. 10pm in a messy graphics studio surrounded by Macs and boards, long hours thinking up concepts in a daze followed by odd hours of frantic typing. Ideas and sketches translated into pin-sharp graphics and images that scar consumers’ souls. The ersatz solitude of business hotels, the emptiness of hotel bars, the crackle of being someone else for a few days and nobody knowing who. Padding softly around the plushly carpeted hallways of the Silver City. This sort of thing used to be my whole life, and despite the other reasons I have for joy right now, I realised this week that I miss it.

When I said goodbye yesterday to the old pal who brought me over to work on this pitch, I mentioned it could be my last week like this. I could tell from his eyes: he didn’t believe me.

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