“It was a beautiful Monday morning in August. The sun was blazing and the spirits were high.”

It was a rainy and humid Wednesday afternoon in September and and we were arguing, no discussing, no, eh, yes arguing, about how to begin the portrayal of the fictional Rodriguez familiy’s interaction with the purpose driven brand we were working with.

“It was a beautiful Monday morning in August. The sun was blazing and the spirits were high.”

During the past weeks work I had been quite clear in my proclamation of the following: thou shall not ever in a million years allow any friction between the design of the presentation and the actual message. Get to the point. Make it as simple as possible. Design at this stage function should only be: us holding the hands of the clients and showing them exactly what concepts we want them to understand.

In my mind the proclamation was about the visuals for the video we were creating for our presentation. My mind was clear I believed. I understood all perspectives.

And I was incapable of realizing some of the ways I was steering the language towards was equal friction as that shiny mustache on Sènor Rodriguez.

I want to storify everything because in my mind, why would anyone listen to anything anyone says ever in a million year if it isn’t said in a way that makes the listener urge for more? I want to hook people so bad that it will hurt not to hear more. Who has the attention span to keep reading/listening after a bad sentence or sequence?

Personally I just leave and do something else with my life entirely (usually that means picking up my phone and stare at it or zone out and think about food in bread).

That’s the problem though.

I’ve only ever written for myself. If I think about the reader at all I assume I’m the reader. Or the reader is me.

Other people are not me. They live in other places and just get up and leave if the design is too boring, or if whatever they care about don’t meet their standards.

This means I include everything and anything that makes me care when I write or script. Details. Things that makes me feel. Things that make me think. More often then not, things that makes me laugh. I might include something about a lunch at Hamburger King, because I know that if I read or heard someone talk about Hamburger King I would be extremely intrigued. Did they eat lunch at Burger King and accidentally got the name of the restaurant wrong? Is there really a place called Hamburger King? Am I being trolled?

But I also know, that same piece of information would make “others” get up and leave and do something entirely different with they’re lives. Any lunch stories at all would completely cloud the message. For others. For the once I should write for. For those who don’t care about the weather conditions that particular day when the Rodriguez family was interaction with a purpose driven brand.

It’s a beautiful Saturday morning in October. The sun is blazing and I just wrote my first Medium-text.