Author: sara mcguyer

Eeee-ther / Eiii-ther

For as long as I’ve lived in Indy, this shell of a building has stood at the corner of 16th & College. I always wondered what used to be there, and how it got cut in two, revealing its former middle.

 

Today that building was demolished, and I watched in equal wonder with the disparity of reactions online. From ‘Thank God that eyesore is gone’, to anger that it might have been saved. Here’s what I thought: it looked like a life-size doll house, just waiting to be styled. I had never seen a cross section of a building like that, and it certainly captured my imagination.

And now, in its demolished state, it shows just how differently we funny animals approach the world. You say eeee-ther and I say eiii-ther. Farewell, old thing.

Photo from Indiana Landmarks facebook page.

Bloggy Goodness

MOKBfilmMy love for movies is starting to take over my free time. But I couldn’t be happier to announce I’ve joined myoldkentuckyblog.com as editor, film. The blog has been a strong voice in the music scene locally and nationally, and I’m thrilled to pioneer film coverage for them.

Here are the first few posts:

You can also follow @MOKBfilm. I’m really excited to see where this goes!

Burt, a Yarnbomb

Completed in the summer of 2010, the multi-colored yarn moustache was conceived as a going away present for my friend April. In addition to being one of my best friends for more than a decade, she taught me to knit. A tribute yarn bomb seemed like the perfect gift to send her off to Philadelphia. I enlisted my weekly knitting group to help adorn James Tyler’s Brickhead 3. The giant head sculpture is in Davlan Park on the 400 block of Mass Avenue. The yarn bomb lasted a few weeks, then mysteriously disappeared.

 

See more images.

Bigger Picture Show

A project of the Indy Film Fest, the Bigger Picture Show features re-invented movie posters for an art show/fundraiser. I took a stab at one of my favorites, Waiting for Guffman. Though it’s one of the funniest movies I’ve ever seen, the tragedy within the comedy offers some of the most interesting moments in the film. These are the moments which inspired the poster.

When Corky erupts on the city council because he’s been denied budget for his production and threatens to go home and bite his pillow, the panic the acting troupe feels when they see that the folding metal chair they’ve reserved for the critic is empty,  the moment Corky St. Clair realizes Guffman isn’t Guffman at all, just some random bloke. The spinning propeller of his beanie cap and over done eyeliner seem to mock the tragic deflation in his expression.

Give the Fest a Kickstart?

My Friday night consisted of frozen pizza, a 6 pack of beer and a stack of Indy Film Fest screeners. Our submissions have officially closed and we got the expected last minute rush of films. Between now and June when we announce our lineup for this summer’s festival (July 14-24, 2011), I’ll be watching and evaluating about 15 or so shorts and 4 full length feature films each week, in addition to my other duties as board member and marketing director. It ended up being the perfect way to end a very hectic week.

You see, Indy Film Fest is pretty much my cause in shining armor. I can’t help but fully invest myself into it – I get to work with such stellar creative minds and dedicated volunteers. AND I get to help build something that can be enjoyed by so many, that adds to the vibrancy of our fair city.

Here’s something not everyone knows – Indy Film Fest has zero paid staff (maybe one day!). We have a few dedicated partners and sponsors – particularly Lodge Design, Nuvo and the Indianapolis Museum of Art. If it weren’t for these groups, and the generous gusto of our volunteers, the festival couldn’t happen.

We wrote it into our vision. Deliciously scrappy, Highly focused. I pour my heart into the festival because I know that come middle of July we’ll be able to put on this amazing shared experience around film that rivals any put on with full-time paid staff.

If you’ve been to the festival and liked what you saw, if you’ve scored passes into one of the many free advanced screenings we offer each year – please consider supporting Indy Film Fest.

Here’s the way Kickstarter works. We’ve set a goal of $4,000. We have (now less than) 30 days to reach that goal. If we don’t make it, we lose all of the pledges others have entered. It’s a risk, but we had faith. When we looked at the numbers coming to our events, our interactions on various social networks and the rising attendance at the festival – we just knew we could pull it off. Kickstarter even links up with Amazon, so if you have an account, pledging is a very simple process.

At $50 and up, you become an official member of the fest, with all of the accompanying perks. For your pledge of $500, you earn a reserved seat in the theatre for the duration of the festival. How cool is that? See more of the perks listed out for each level here.

Maybe you’ve never been to the Indy Film Fest before. Then please consider a ten dollar date with the fest. For your $10 gift, we’ll thank you with two tickets to any regular festival screening – a pretty risk-free investment if you ask me.

Become a backer of Indy Film Fest

Know you’ll have an entire volunteer festival team who is thankful for your support.
And if you made it this far, thanks, from the bottom of my grateful heart.

Tamale, Glass & a 45

Yesterday at SmallBox, my coworker Justin Shimp started playing some songs from his youth. It sparked a conversation about music we bought when we were kids. There was a brief time in my early music-buying days when new releases were still pressed on vinyl. My sister and I had some great albums – Madonna’s True Blue, Thriller, and some true eighties gems like Debbie Gibson and Tiffany.

When I think of my early music obsessions, I always think of a 45 I had of Suzanne Vega’s My Name is Luka. On the flip side, she sang a Spanish version of the song. As a young midwestener, it was exotic and mind-blowing – and in hindsight it was pretty darn progressive for the time.

Reminiscing about that 45, I’ve decided I’ve got to have it again. I’ll be scouring used record bins, and I’m pretty excited about this new vinyl mission.

depression glass bowls, suzanne vega album

See, here’s the thing. I don’t like to mindlessly shop for things. One of the reasons I love going to antique stores is because I have an almost complete set of light blue depression glass. Five tea cups, six saucers, six side plates and three dinner plates. Four pieces away from completion. I’m sure I could find them on eBay, but then I wouldn’t have the satisfaction of the hunt. I love going in to places like this with a mission. I have others, like finding the best tamale, and now, an old Suzanne Vega 45. I like attaching purpose to the things I do.

It has me thinking about vision and mission in business and life too. I recently went through an exercise with the Indy Film Fest board to revisit our own statements. Like so many businesses and organizations, ours didn’t really reflect our identity. The statement was stiff and boring and verbose. As a group, we brainstormed. We stared at each other a little. We had a hard time finding our voice, feeling okay adding personality into something so official as the MISSION statement. We wrote several lines, mashed them up, crossed some out, narrowed it down.

It was liberating. And awesome. I can say our new mission statement in conversation and feel like a real person, not a talking head reciting some lofty, meaningless phrase.

I’ve read some personal mission statements here and there on the web. Often, I don’t feel like they say much of anything about the person they’re meant to describe. I’ve never gone through the process for myself personally. Maybe it’s time, but I’m hoping for something bigger, more defining than the little missions I assign myself.

If I write it, will I use it? Will I put it here on my blog or my resume? Will it guide the choices I make? I’m not sure, but I think I’ll enjoy the process either way.

Until then, placeholder: ‘I seek the best tamale in the world, an old Suzanna Vega 45 with My Name is Luka en español and blue depression glass plates and tea cup.’

Image credits: Suzanne Vega – “Luka” photo by Geoff B. via Flickr | Untitled photo by nosuchsoul via Flickr

Hipster Paint, Instant Art

Web discovery of the moment: Check out this simple doodle site. It’s like a hipster version of paint, with several different brushes such as ‘chrome’ and ‘fur’ that intuitively add texture and shading.

This little snail is the work of about 30 seconds:

If it had an undo recognized cmd+z, I’d explore even more. As is, it’s a fun toy, and I think even those claiming they can’t draw to save their lives would feel inspired by what they can create.

via Geninne’s Art blog.

Brain Blips and Beautiful Simplicity

cocoThe other day I was providing feedback on a logo design and I was reminded of some words of fashion wisdom from Coco Chanel. She advised women to remove one item before leaving the house, or else risk being over accessorized. It was the same with the logo. Removing one element transformed it from a brand mark that, while interesting, would have created a bit of chaos for the eye.

I thought of it again a couple of nights ago while listening to Jack Dorsey of twitter and square fame explain how he was driven towards beautiful simplicity on Charlie Rose. Beautifully simplicity. Sounds lovely, doesn’t it?

I often wonder why simplicity can be so elusive, so downright difficult to achieve. Is it because of an inclination that we need and crave all information available? Is it because we’re accustomed to doing things in a particular way which has obscured other paths? Are we wired to tinker, to add more, do more, to over-communicate?

As I’ve tried to envision how to simplify (processes, design, communication), I feel no closer to final answers, but I have learned the importance of that first step of acknowledging opportunity for improvement.

Learn to recognize when your eye trips over an element in a design or your thinking is slowed by a step in a process, even if only for a blip of a second. I equate these feelings to the pause you feel as your brain tries to autocorrect typos or determine if an unknown word in a sentence obscures your understanding of a concept. It can sometimes be subtle, easily ignored.

My #1 lesson learned in the quest for simplicity is this:
Don’t ignore the things that make your brain stumble.

Each little blip could be a nudge toward a more beautiful simplicity. I’m assessing my process for all sorts of things, how I connect and communicate, how to recognize when technology aids or deters an undertaking. Until I figure it out, I think I’ll apply Coco’s rule of minus one.

Gravity’s Loom

Sometimes it’s worthwhile to look beyond the art. The shadows cast by the architectural loom are as dramatic as the saturated color strands spanning the lobby of the Indianapolis Museum of Art.

Though the brilliant colors are captivating, don’t miss the shadows.

Gravity's Loom from the IMA Lobby

Reminded me of the Distressed Awning from a few weeks ago.

by Ball-Nogues Studio,
Nylon twine, aluminum and ink,
IMA Lobby