All posts by Giacomo Ciminello

Every designer creative will tell you that, in theory, a piece can forever be tweaked, changed and plucked and prodded on until the day they die. Notorious historical examples are abound in music, especially classical (see Bach, Tchaikovsky, et al.). If you really need a more pop reference I am sure you can give Mr. Lucas a call on that front. Although, in restropsect, handing over the reigns might be an interesting way to expand a universe rather than constantly rewriting it. In looking at pop music in general, what the factory initially pumps out is far less interesting than B-sides remixes and counterparts. So I commend Mr. Lucas for finally throwing in the towel and letting other creatives take the reigns. Truth is a creative mind wears over time. It becomes painted into corners and stiffled by “being to close”. Varying up your style can be a daunting process, not to unsimilar than throwing a boulder on your back and running a tough mudder. You fight. You claw. Tears fly and sometimes it defeats you. I have been defeated. Time and time again. Seeing other very ingenious artists often pushes my face deeper into the mud, as it is not inspiration anymore but some beautifully brilliant piece that I wish I had thought of first. That my brain had somehow reached out into the Creation Aura that sounds us and I, not then, had published it first, cause, duh, why wouldn’t I?

So getting back up requires pushing up with all fours, curling your back, rising from your belly button, through your mid-section, spine straightening up through your sits bones, and sitting tall. How do I sit tall? I go back to my favorite pieces of personal work. Athletic Logos. I know, someday that these pieces will be replaced and forgotten, hopefully not in my lifetime, but I recall every minute of these projects and the learnings within. I created a mark, that inspires large amounts of people for ages to come. When they are long graduated they will still nuzzle up on a cold night with their well-tattered sweatpants blasting out as they revel in March Madness. Theres even part of me out there that wonders if a sorority woman is galavanting around with a tramp stamp of my mark. Odds? Low. Payoff? Priceless.

The system in creating an athletic logo are intense. It’s not just a logo, or a typeface. It’s home, away, alternate, practice, athlete and consumer, coaches. To be honest during my younger years as a designer, these projects taught me more about looking at a system holistically more so than any education I received elsewhere. LaSalle, I’ve always felt closure with. Located in Philadelphia, the Explorers are a fairly large div 1 team in the A10 conference. It has 64 marks in the system, and have been used to some extent sparringly. As my virgin, cherry popping athletic logo experience, it’s not bad. A simple 2 color guy that fits well with the other Philadelphia Big 5. My sophomore effort, in a chance to come clean, is my favorite, but still feel like its the one that I didn’t finish.

During my time at 160over90, I had the pleasure to work on many college accounts, but none will compare to the very first one, of Chestnut Hill College. A little campus-that-could women’s only educational space in the outskirts of Philly. well, once they opened up the doors for men, an athletic department explosion was very soon to follow, so work began on branding the Griffins. Having already put LaSalle to bed with ease, I felt more than confident CHC would be a breeze, and in all honesty, it was. But it’s not finished. To 160 it is. To the school it is. But the Griffin’s of whom I have a big heart for, I know it can be better. This was one of the last projects I had worked on before my leave. So the concepts were fairly polished, but I never had that complete system closure like I did with LaSalle, but when I get nostalgic and check in with my children to see how they have grown up, I get blown away.

See, LaSalle was extremely refined and had very tight rules. I had each mark worked out for the 4 colors it would ever appear. With CHC I had only worked out the major pieces, never locked up the system. And this tiny athletic program was left to use it at their leisure, but the thing is. I screwed up. Without thinking and just creating, I made a 4 color sleak and aggressive griffin that strikes fear in all of the other div II CACC teams. I mean seriously, in comparison it makes the other schools logos look like fingerpaintings. So in that sense its a win. I honed the “CH” tirelessly. It actually the best part of the system. It has an extremely layered sensibility and the piping around in gold and red was just…well, I love gold and red. Regardless, I had a “griffins” “chestnut hill” and a “g” and a “griffin” all made, but yeah, never quite tweaked them to completion. The whitespacing is off on all the typefaces. The griffin is too complex and has too many colors. The “g” is just flat out unusable. But that doesn’t stop this little college that could. And thats the inherent beauty. With no system, they manage to produce striking uniforms on what I am sure is a tight budget for this little-school-on-the-hill.

I never got to see my marks in action, so I live vicariously through the photos that pop up on the web site. Personally I did the Men’s goalie which has the CH on black. The women’s tennis unis are top notch, and seeing the “Griffins” on the men’s baseball is both proud and irksome as I know it can be better. I do love the group shots on center court though. Seeing the Grif in all his glory, ready to pounce, standing tall atop the “Slayer” inspired Chestnut Hill typeface, honestly makes me proud. And seeing how CHC continues to utilize each of these pieces in its ever growing program, damn near brings a tear to my eye, as they clearly show massive pride in what the marks represent, regardless of my screwups. Seeing them today, I was able to get on all fours, and rise again. You have reminded me how far I have come, and how much further I have to go. So, I bought the last CH red and gold hat you had, even though it won’t fit me, and I will cheer for you every day, because a cheer for you is a step forward for me. Keep Climbing and Fly Along.

For those unfamiliar with the above title, fight or flight is an amazing concept first observed and documented by Walter Cannon. To completely copy-and-paste from Wikineedia, fight or flight is in essence “how animals react to threats with a general discharge of the sympathetic nervous system, priming the animal for fighting or fleeing.” Now, the big super obvious way of observing this is, zebra eats grass, zebra sees lion, lion sees zebra, zebra either craps itself and takes it, or starts his ass running. What is not so easy to observe is how we, as human (less lion fodder), attack our own scenarios. For me, lately, I flounder back and forth on both. I guess lately I’ve left myself wondering if that’s necessarily a bad thing. In certain areas at least, sticking it out and trying something different, fighting your own instincts if you will, seems like a good idea. The downside is it is mentally exhausting. Incredibly exhausting actually. After 35 years of fighting for let’s say, what your heart wants, you realize that for your own personal health, it’s time to stop the fight. Ohio, was both a Fight and Flee response for me. Philly had officially kicked my ass, and rather than sit there with my carcass getting picked at, I fled to fight another day. It was an unnatural move for me. I broke every comfort zone I had ever known, and walked into this wonderful ponderosa. Ever since then I’ve been a virtual yes man, giving in to every challenge asked of me. Ben and I became explorers in a foreign land. My life became an act of fighting, as opposed to a literal one. The heart and body began to heal as I broke my own personal norms. As far as norms go, I can also say every relationship I’ve come across here in the Oh, hi is also not exactly normal. Or what modern #firstworld society would consider normal. I suppose that’s what makes the search so interesting. Interesting but lonely. I’ve been catfished (x2) by some, ignored by others, overanalyzed by the polyamourus, and ignored by the monogomists. I can’t spell either of those things, but one thing is for sure, I think for my own personal well-being, I am giving up “the search” as it goes. So my fight, for love, will now be constantly fleeing. The real trick here, is to not turn into my grandmother.My grandmother is alone. A lot of family members have a lot to say about her. Some rather colorful adjectives in fact. There’s two things that scare me right now, that align me with her. A. She gave up on relationships long ago. It was her choice and I’ll be damned if she didn’t have the discipline and resolve to stick with it. This resulted in B. her alienating loved ones because she “fleed” from a loving relationship. G-ma is brash, she speaks without caring about consequence (something I’ve had a knack for since youth), and quite frankly, she is mean. Even her dog is mean, ironically named Buddy, that little fucker sure isn’t yours. So my trick in abandoning Eros, maybe even Venus and a share of Storge, is to not turn into grandma. I think I am going to try to fill that little void with Agape. Diving into charity work and really helping others like I intended in grad school. Yup. That’s where I’ll build my house. Now, my list of exes is, ex-stensive (see what I did there?), and I have done my fair share to add them to that wonderful list. Truth is, I am tired of adding pages. For the wrong people I’ve tried to be something I’m not, and for the right ones I simply didn’t have the resolve and did wrong by you. Either way, I hurt myself. So for that, I start running. Now.

I also once lived on an island, known by the moniker LBI. Long Beach Island, it’s a funny place. It’s not overly exciting compared to say a, Puerto Rico. It’s not glamorous like the Keys. But when you visit, it traps you. A good trapping, not a bad one, at least by Jersey shore standards. So it is quite humbling, to see the place I have lived, loved, etc, literally get washed away. It’s an island. It’s the inherent risk, for sure. It’s the same risk one would take living in LA via Earthquakes, or NY and its alien invasions. My mom is on this island right now. Not because she chose to stay, but rather because she is the Deputy Coordinator of Emergency Management. She has to be there. She has to somehow keep it all together, as nature washes away an entire island, so that she can get in a really big truck, and drive around to save some really stupid people. Ok, “stupid” is probably harsh, as I understand the comforts that home brings, especially feeling so unconnected to one right now. But seriously people, its an island, approximately 3 feet on average above sea level, and this this is rolling in harder than Lil Wayne…as my buddy Jake would say, “You stoopid.”

The devastation that the Jersey shore has seen, will likely (hopefully) not be matched anytime soon. The Atlantic City boardwalk, made famous by Boardwalk Empire and a rather droll Steve Buscemi? Gone. The Seaside Heights boardwalk, made famous, unfortunately, by the likes of Snooki and Pauli D, where I have memories of my dad’s band playing the clubs during the summer, while I galavanted around throwing rings onto glass bottles, and darts at balloons. Gone. And as to the LBI boardwalk? Well that washed away in 1918, but one place, one chosen namesake that was to represent the feeling and memories of those others previously mentioned, stands strong. And it’s my mom’s shop, The Boardwalk, on LBI. So here’s to you mom, stand strong, save those lives, and get that shop ready for summer, you are the last boardwalk standing.

http://lbirecovery.tumblr.com/

There’s a few moments in my life, that inherently tie me to a city. In NY, there was moments of glamour, and culture, and ridiculousness. Like the time I was introduced to Harry Potter because the line at the Union Square Barnes & Noble was absurdly long and full of people dressed in robes. In my possibly inebriated state I stood there, staring, until a young wizard told me to come join them…in line…at midnight…for a book. A children’s book mind you. Through all the chaos that is NY, this moment defined the city for me. It’s magical, and unexpected.

In Philly, well, there are good moments, but truth of the matter is, the city is defined to me perfectly by the : 2 cars and 8 bikes stolen, 1 random act of being punched in the face by a stranger and knowing police by their first name. [Editor’s Note: assume that is not a good thing]. But that’s Philly. As the bastard child of New York, it has an over aggressive chip on its shoulder. It wants to constantly prove how much better it is than the City of Boroughs. Where it plays out in intensity, is sports. No where in my life have I seen such a disgusting display of immoral frivality. During my time there, the Eagles were amazing, the Flyers were consistently awesome (that’s professional hockey for those not in the know), and the Phillies almost got dy-Nasty. Problem was, the people didn’t deserve it. Flat out. They were so ungrateful for the things they had. It played out like sheer greed, you give the kids cookies and they ask for milk. So when the Phils won the World Series, I was torn. My first thought was, “Fine. Finally these people can get it out of their system.” It was almost title town at the time, Eagles were doing well, heck even the Sixers were slated to win something. Maybe, just maybe this will fix this towns inherent problem with aggression. Nope. Gameday violence actually increased. Locals began to get outright feverish. It wasn’t good enough to win, now they felt like they deserved to just be given a title every year. Again, this isn’t the entire population, and I shouldn’t judge them like this, I know. I have a lot of friends that I was notably happy for, but the majority rules, and quite frankly, I think Philly is proud of their machismo.

Thus, bringing me to Cincy. Every time I tell people I “moved here on purpose” or that I “recently moved to Cincinnati” it is almost immediately followed up by a look of perplexion and a “Why?” and/or “On purpose?” Truth is, Cincy and its people have fully embraced me, not as its own, I think it enjoys having an “outside consultant” just strolling around making comments. But, the City Ashamed to be Proud of Itself, for whatever reason, found its stride. Not that the love of baseball has gone anywhere here. Not by any means. But as a perennial Mets fan, I can tell you, its VERY hard to dislike the Reds. The Reds, while I wasn’t here during the “cash the check years”, embodied everything I experienced growing up playing baseball. Who are the Reds? Egoless. Skilled. Humble. And now, Heartbroken. Again, the perfect definition of Cincy, and now I understand. You all deserved this World Series, so the world at large, or..at least the nation can see Cincy’s possibility.

The Reds broke my heart, after such a wonderful 5 month relationship (longest I’ve had here so far, might as well get that in before Zender makes the comment). As an adopted fan, I am angry with Rollens, second guessing Dusty, wondering when Votto will get his power back, but, something about waking up here, in Cincy, the City the Takes a Beating, I am ok with it, and have fully embraced your catchphrase. So without further ado, lift one to the Reds for a tremendous showing, and…

Just wait till next year.

I live a visual lifestyle. I hate words. Ask any copywriter I’ve worked with and they will tell you how whiney I get when they keep adding them to things. They are long, complicated, and often times adding an “a” or “the” will make the rag go form perfect to terrible, and kick down a four letter widow. Words. Bleh.

They get especially annoying in visualizations. Info is, well, daunting. It crowds, it muddies, our own dyslexias misconstrue and confound. Which is why I often love to resort to the age old adage I learned while being toted around in a shopping cart. Let’s face it, there isn’t much to do being 2 feet tall, besides imagining you are in a crazy mobil prisoner, then to watch mom do a side by side comparison of the various nefarious fruits and vegetables I’ll be forced to consume for dinner later. Tomatos. Cantalopes, Lift, poke, color, size. Without the use of any words whatsoever, the fate of nature lies in the balance. Literally. Suddenly, mother become a human scale, left, right, left, right. It’s my own childhood Thunderdome. 2 fruit enter, 1 fruit leaves.

Of course, in the world of trending, this is pretty much the best weapon we have. Placing similar objects next to each other gives us all the insight we need to further a project. Things get REALLY interesting though, when you inadvertently start to apply this. I realized this while sitting in Taqueria Mercado watching the MLS game of the week. The game of the week, is often considered the best matchup that would bring high scoring and weekly ratings. But Euro Cup this isn’t. Having been watching Germany, Italy, England and the nauseating Spanish for the better part of a month, going back to MLS is almost laughable. Now, I love me some Donovan. I’m a huge fan of the Union. But the side-by-side comparison isn’t pretty. With all the talk of how far we’ve come, there’s much further to go.

Next up, cities. You’ve all heard my poetic love for Philadelphia. It’s all the good parts of NYC (culture, food, people) without all the bad parts (cost, size, …cost). Recently I had a chance to literally, go from the best Cincy has to offer (a tremendous weekend out and about with friends), to an evening back in Philly (also with friends), to a week back in Jersey. Ok, so you can all mark the date, cause I am going to have it written in documented form here. Like Cincy. I think it’s quite an interesting little city. It was growing on me in leaps and bounds, and dare I say the weekend I wish to reference actually had me thinking, I was back East, if only for a moment. Then, came Philly. One, not even that crazy night, meeting up with friends past, quickly reminded me how far Cincy has to go. In the 8 months I have been gone, so much has sprouted up. More people. More hotspots. More neighborhoods. The city is growing faster than the lawn of the abandoned house next to mine. The speed difference has always bothered me. The side-by-side really put it into perspective however. I don’t know if it’s more driven people, or just the sheer number of them, per square foot in each city that makes the difference.

I always joke and say its like hitting Command+S, grabbing the corner of NYC and scaling down. But, it’s different. The SbS reveals so much more. Density, color, height, weight, food, diversity, art. It’s not just scaled down, it’s flat out different. Over the next few weeks I am going to try to make apps to show these. Again these are just visual observations, made within hours of each other. It’s hard to capture feeling, but we’ll see what we can do.

So, there’s been a lot to say lately about the thriving metropolis that is this Cincinnati. Personally, I was hoping to do a riveting piece about remote controls and it’s history of human interaction with machine before even touching the subject of Cincy again. But, it seems everyone wants to know what I think of this villa. Still. So I might as well have at it, shall we?

*The opinions expressed in this blog post in no way reflect the opinions of the productions company of said blog. So hold the rotten vegetables, and keep the tarring for the winter months.

So this article from Cleveland.com has been all a flutter this weekend boasting that Cincinnati is the hip and trendy spot of Ohio. Understandable. I can’t argue this. Please people, keep in mind the baseline here is Cleveland. Now I don’t have any issues with the article itself, or the sense of pride it should give the residents. Actually, for the first time in a while, I am proud of y’all. This little moment of braggard-ness looks good on you. Flaunt it. But don’t get comfy.

Yes. You have all made leaps and bounds over the past decade, as I am constantly reminded. Your waterfront is actually quite beautiful, and can only get better. I have actually never seen such bustle and activity. It’s a different activity than that of NY’s seaports, and Philly can only dream of attaining a fraction of what you have accomplished here. All I am going to say, respectfully, is don’t settle.

Politics here are a bear. More so than any I’ve ever seen or experienced. I’ve heard many a fabulous idea get smothered, or cast aside with nothing more than a learning glare. But don’t settle. You are all fighting, that is what makes you great, not the new fancy bars or the new shiny object. Just do not settle. There’s more to be done. Being called “the best in Ohio” is a start. Don’t settle. There’s more to be done. So long as there are plywooded blocks and abandoned neighborhoods. There is work to be done. So long as there is no walkable food source. There is work to be done. So long as non-Ohioans, cringe when the word “Cincinnati” comes out of people’s mouth. There is work to be done. When someone can’t walk out of their house, at say, 10pm so grab an honest slice of pizza. There is work to be done. On the day that you can walk into a decent coffee house, that isn’t Starbucks, open your laptop and enjoy some artisan biscotti on a Saturday afternoon, not just in Northside…there is work to be done.

Now, I graciously admit that those simply add to the “trendiness” and there are larger problems at hand, but really, it’s the little things. It’s the little things that inspire greater things. You don’t need grand gestures. You don’t need massive redevelopment plans. Hell, you don’t need to even agree. But you do need, small, simple, little, things. Things like a cup of coffee, or a slice of pizza, or a smoothie, or a deli, or the drummer guy on the corner. Little things, begat bigger things. It’s the little things that give neighborhoods a “tone” or “personality.” That personally that resonates with us growing up as children, into the adults that we become. I am proud for you Cincy, and I too want to help. It’s downright inspiring. Now…how the hell does one get their hands on all this abandoned land?!?

Ok, as you were.

Sometimes I forget how public this whole universe of the Internets is. I admit I am, humbled, often, by the fact that people read my words and want to start a conversation. I’ve been taking a while with this one, because I want to do a great respect to it. My latest online compadres have show as much if not more respect than I have ever experienced in reality, let alone this virtual dumping ground. With that, I honor my previous promise of positivity. Prompty. So without further ado, I give you, “11 Things That DO Work in Ohio.”

Honorable Mention #12: Elections. For the rest of the US, Ohio is the great decider. Forever the Magic 8-Ball of presidential elections, this wonderful little swing state has some amazing politics going on. Having grown up in a predominantly Democrat zone my entire life, we are basically at the mercy of whatever the Blues feel like supporting. Not that they have been all bad decisions, but being in an area whose politics COMPLETELY drives its growth, and even divides communities, is refreshingly complex.

11. Drinking. Bare with me. My East Coast patriots will naively say “Well what else is there to do?” But after stumbling onto some history, they should be thanking this little metropolis for some of its wares, in the not-what-you-are-thinking sense. While Philly can brag about being the city of firsts, especially beer (I’ll be addressing this in a project launching shortly), Cincy gave us wine. Yes, wine. I love that. So between the wine, the incoming Germans and their beer, and the ‘Merican bourbonizing, truly, Cin City is at the center of it all. So drink on that.

10. Opportunity. From Cleveland, to Columbus, to Dayton, to Cincinnati to hell, this whole state, there are PLENTY of moments for someone with an idea, a dream, a business, to step up and start something. And, unlike its east coast counterparts, is much cheaper to do so. I would actually encourage any east coasters struggling with a thought, to try it out here first. This was the prototype city for NYC afterall. They might have gotten the full size versions, but they wouldn’t have happened at all if not for Southern Ohios ingenuity. Could have avoided that whole cupcake trend entirely if it went through here first. Shame on y’all.

– which brings me to…

9. Support. People here want something new. They want to see success bred through opportunity. From what I can gather, the evolution of OTR has happened through the sheer will of it’s people. And that’s amazing. Optimism is surprisingly hard to come by unless you are part of these movements, but having been through a few myself, I can see it, and I believe in it. You should too.

8. Social Media. There will be a tipping point to all of these 147 characters or less shout outs. I actually setup 2 personas on various social networks just to view the “static” from 2 cities. Oddly enough, the streams from the larger city roll by too quickly to follow, while the streams from Ohio are digestable. Shocking right? I do think that there is some “congealing” that needs to happen here in order for more people to be “in the know” or to participate, but at least you aren’t missing anything.

7. Running. Man you people like your fitness. I thought I had an average ability to moderately run at least 3 miles in a fairly acceptable time.  Of course, I trained in Philly, where geography is lacking. Translation: No hills. The sheer ease at which you all run from Hyde Park through Eden Park down to the Waterfront through OTR and back makes my heart want to explode just thinking about it. Flying Pig? Yeah…I need one.

6. Sustainability. I should probably define my idea of sustainability. Quite simply, it’s not buying new things, and refurbishing old ones. When we design things, and make things, you have to realize that there is a permanence to it. Doctors have hippa, designers should have one. We are denting the Earth at will, and without warrant. </rant> But there are no shortages of antique, reuse, and junkyards around here, and they haven’t been pillaged by Urban Outfitters yet. And don’t even get me started on the flea markets, where the art of haggling is still alive and well, but it’s not over $10 or $20, but rather $1 or $2. My recently refurbed Faux Eames Lounge thanks you.

5. Professional Baseball. Does this really need explaining? I’ll note the differences anyways. $7 tickets on gameday. Accessible stadium. Amazing fans. The color red. Even if we go the Cleveland route, the Indians are the subject of the greatest sports movie ever made, and have a logo that is always smiling, just like the people in the stands, win or lose. Take a lesson, Philly.

4. College Sports. See previous NCAA Elite Eight. Fin.

3. Waterfronts. Many cities struggle with this. They go under developed, polluted, secluded. It’s ironic that these veins of water that once established our cities throughout the US have become so mistreated. We have always been a what-have-you-done-for-me-lately society, but it’s time to void that line of thinking. Waterfronts are to be celebrated. No where has this movement been so inspiring as in downtown Cincinnati, were what seems to be a decades worth of effort is finally coming to fruition. You rock out those LEDs, Cincy, we’ll figure out the rest.

2. Design. I need some statistics on this, but I feel like there are more designers per capita here than anywhere I’ve ever been. Industrial. Strategic. Graphic. And what’s more important, all those feel good thoughts you may have had in college like ”I want to make a difference” or “I want to change the world” is possible here with companies like P&G pumping out products that actually have an impact. Now, here’s the trick, how do we get these said designers up and at em? If anything the design community here seems a bit secluded. There are pockets, but those pockets don’t seem genuinely energized, and their attempts are muted well below what other cities have accomplished. Granted NY is NY, but Philly took an actual stance and vowed to have design drive many of its agendas. They even went and created an Office for the Creative Economy of the city. Again, I love the designers here, I just want them to do something. Myself included.

1. People. There is something truly different about the people here. People smile. Strangers say hello, people say “please” a lot more often. I like to call it moral adjustment. In my last post I said that Egos don’t work here, in a comment someone said that they don’t work anywhere, and while I agree with that sentiment, it’s just not how some cities operate. Egos drive the day-to-day in a lot of cities. They make up the stereotype that the rest of the world thinks of them as.  NYers, are NYers. I say that knowing full well that whomever is reading this realizes the size that ego must have to be a “NYer.” Philly has a jaded ego, forever being the little bitch of NY I suppose, but there is definitely a certain swagger than Philadelphians have. It’s witty, it’s fiery, it’s smart, it is by no means classy, nor do they expect outsiders to think of them as such. Ohioans, are just different. You display an intense amount of humility. You don’t brag, (college sports aside). Prideful, but not arrogant (again, college alums aside). As a populace, hands down some of the nicest folk I have had the pleasure of meeting. You move at your pace, not the rest of the worlds. You live life. You don’t live for work, but you do work for a living. And most importantly you listen before reacting.

Accepting of total strangers, and always looking to comfort them, I would say that Ohio is the pillow to the U.S. bed. At times you need to shape it and mold it to get comfortable, but once you lay your head down, she will take care of you.

11. Public Transportation. Waaaay to much space, badly planned urban sprawl, general tomfoolery

10. BYOBs. Not sure why, actually, since every store from the local CVS to the gas station on the corner sells alcohol. But that little acronym just flat out doesn’t fly around here.

9. Late Night Bites. Your choices? Taco Hell, some random chili diner, or Kentucky. Either way, your next day is not going to go very well.

8. Casual Biking. Hills, hills..distance and more hills, prevent the casual bicycler from say, taking a leisurely ride along the Ohio…in most instances. But, if you are super hardcore, or enjoy impressing people with your knowledge of Lance Armstrong outfits, you will do well here.

7. East Coast League Nights. Granted, I am the new kid at school, but for the first time in my life, I am not exactly making friends at bowling. The sheer focus, and Ivan Drago mentality that most bowlers display on the lanes reminds me of the times I would get yelled at at the Blackjack table for hitting when the dealer is showing under a 7. Either way, one of these days I’ll cut the damn Russian and at least earn his respect.

6. Egos. Technically, these shouldn’t work anywhere. But don’t try to bring a Jersey Shore, Long Island, Boston, East Coast, Philly, anything to the party. You won’t clash with anyone here, you will just stand out…a lot. They serve humble pie out here, and it tastes good.

5. Fake Southern Accents. Much like a Fake British Accent, the real McCoys know when you are mocking them with a non-authentic drawl, and administer punishment accordingly.

4. Subarus. Actually, this might extend to many overseas car types, but when trying to work on, find parts for, or general maintenance on said vehicle, the best response I’ve had to date was, “Subaru? Who makes that GM?.” So one must take to obsessive online forum stalking to get the job done.

3. Vegetarian Selections. It’s not that there aren’t any, but Ohio certainly doesn’t offer making the option to switch as easy as some coastline city counterparts. Yes it requires a bit more home cooking, but on the flip side there are many local organic farm options.

2. Roast Pork Sammy’s and Pizza. Having been in the city of Porkopolis for a good many months now, I am appalled that this isn’t the staple food item on every corner. Hell I’ll take A food item on A corner. The pork of choice is either Barbecued, Smoked, or Weinerized. The “pizza” of choice is well….not.

1. Online dating. Most people out here found their very normal, very one and only in high school, leaving the rest of us damaged folk in the virtual world. Any interaction with said world leaves you more damaged than when you first entered. So, thanks for that.

Eventually I will post up 11 things that do work in Ohio, as soon as I find 11 things.

So here we are, well over 6 months later, and I am still alive. The move to Ohio has been an interesting one to say the least. I traded civilization and urban bravado for argumentative chirping birds, and “y’alls.” So many differences to account for. The people. The work ethic. The food. The beer. Ah the beer. Amazing how Germans can do that right AND still engineer great cars…cause ..you know, those things totally go together. At least once every other month Zin City here serves us up some kind of festival for beer. Whether that’s Oktoberfest, or Bockfest, or winefest..or legofest (hey, its a 2-day babysitter, bars are across the street), the local breweries truly know how to throw down.

What’s truly still missing is the food. Long in my past are the pizzerias on every corner, ample neighborhood selections on BYOBs and the “goto” spots. Gastropubs are few and far between, and the all-nighter barely exists. There is that “gem” of a spot in Joe’s in downtown Cincy, and Anchor Grill in God-only-knows Kentucky, but truthfully, food is scarce. Once you find it though, broadcast it. The small places that do great things need to be on everyones list. Whether that’s the quesidilla girl at Japps, the deep fried sushi roll at Mr. Sushi, or the Terry’s Burger (which by far and away destroys anything I’ve eaten..anywhere, sorry Philly), we need this culinary excellence to spread, and push out the only other options of Taco Hell, and …Skyline.

As to the work ethic, it’s 9-5. Solid. It’s weird actually. I work, cause well, I still don’t had much to do out here. Shortly I’ll be posting about the boat building that will take over my summer, but as for anything else…meh. Which is a brilliant segway(ridden all over the city) in the people.

Midwesterners. I’ve know one. ..or two in my life time. honestly, the kindest people I’ve ever met. Eager to help, always with a smile. Very “golly gee” whenever their teams don’t do well. Except for Wildcat fans..they are kind of more obnoxious than Yankee fans, but hey they are reaping perfection sooooo… But they also keep to themselves. Most seem to have their mates and 2.5 kids and houses with white picket fences. So meeting people, just like finding good food, is a bit of a struggle. Ironic really. As an interaction designer I find myself better at observation and shadowing. Which, if you actually do this in public can come off as creepy and anti-social. So to be social you have to try pretty much every form of it. Bowling, super competitive out here. Boating, working on it. Biking, i live on top of a mountain. Beer drinking, for the young ins. Online, untrustworthy. Kentucky, seriously? Other options? Columbus..Dayton….eh, right. So yeah, working on it. I definitely amy not as pessimistic as I once was, but, it’s still a struggle.

So for now, I will focus on, the boat project, teaching at UC, and prepping for a few marathons…details all soon enough.

Well, this is sudden. In a move not seen since Babe Ruth went from Boston to NY, I have decided to leave the great land of Philadelphia. If you had asked me a month ago, no, strike that, a year or two ago I would have sworn that Philly would have been my home for life. I would have been officially a Philadelphian after having a child there or purchased my first picket fence within the confines of it’s border. But, alas, how things have changed.

You have to forgive me, this has been a strange occurance. I always thought the only thing that would make me leave this city was the lure of LA, or Italy, or some other absurd locale. Instead, after investing over 6,000 days (roughly 17 years give or take), I am departing not for the exotic, but Cincinnati.

Why there? Why indeed. Some seem upset, thinking maybe I’m just giving up. Some think I am running away, God knows I’ve made enough mistakes round here to fill up Fishtown- i do actually avoid a handful of blocks up there for this very reason. Many will jump for joy, some will wish me luck, and a few will be at a loss for words. Truth is I will miss this town. It is on the verge of something great, it truly is. I am proud of having seen it grow so much in the past decades. I am honored to have met the people that i have, they have been such a beacon of life for each neighborhood. Filling it with energy and creativity. You make Philly, so Philly.

It pained me so much to decide to leave, because of these wonderful relationships. In my search for something to direct my life, I always saw these relationships I’ve made as a landline, keeping me anchored, and on track. When that track faltered, or flat out disappeared, many of you picked me up, and were there for me. For that I am ever grateful. I will miss you all terribly, but I suppose, there’s always Facebook.

In 17 years there were 14 apartments, 13 roommates in 6 different ‘hoods with 2 cars stolen, along with 8 bikes. 5 years of teaching, 6 years of learning, 2 degrees, and 2 positions in 2 companies, $5635 in PPA fines -70% was while I HAD a permit (ah..fuck you guys). And of course, 1 arrest record.

Every relationship I seem to have had, every love affair, every fling, has come to an end. So it seems fitting, that Philly and I take a break for a while. She too, beat me, demeaned me, all the while making me think I was right for her. But the truth is, like many others in the world, I want a Ctrl+Z. I want a redo. I want to rediscover the person inside that I know I can be. The optimistic, enlightened, hopeful one. I want to release the east coast hate into the stratosphere, and be someone that my students can respect, that my peers can admire, and that my family -yes including my little sister- can be proud of. This includes myself.

Ah Philly, what hath ye done to me.

I liken it to sitting in church and watching your ex get married, thinking “ah, she’ll be back, she said so.” Then watching them have kids, a house, and grow old, all the while you grow old watching them, and never do anything for yourself.

So off I go, to a blank slate. A town with no history for me. With amazing sports teams. Sarcasm intact. And most importantly, optimism. I leave behind my greatest friends, the ones that still talk to me, and the ones that don’t. An amazing school with students that truly changed my life. As both a teacher, and a classmate, you have all been a source of inspiration, never stop learning, never stop questioning, and most importantly, never say, “I don’t think that’s possible.”

Ah boy. This is rough, but..Cincitunnity. Let’s do this.

A month at the beach can give one a lot of clarity. Is it the white noise of the ocean waves? The salt air in the lungs cleansing all the internal filters? Or, just the fact that once you get over the mini golf and bar scene, there isn’t much to do besides think. It’s a calculated risk. I heard there were more suicides in shore towns than anywhere else, the mind is a powerful thing. But as I sit here with umpteen minutes to occupy my day, I fill it with just as many projects. So much so that I’ll be damned if they aren’t awesome, but lack that whole, “how the hell to I pay my rent with it?” thing. Thankfully, I don’t overly care about that just yet. I am a firm believer of good things come to those..yada yada. So I have decreed a new…declaration. A complete life switch. Ready? Ready.

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So I found a list of 10 goals I had apparently written to myself during a moment of self reflection many, many years ago. It’s an interesting read. It had come during a time when I was struggling with things way more than I am now. Someone told me to make a list of goals. THey can be simple, they can be complex. THese goals you should take in phases, give them deadlines, but always work towards them. So now I look at myself 3 years later and see how its going. Not too bad. It is the kind of reading material that inspires me. I was actually hopeful, and whether or not I was being true to myself when I wrote this, doesn’t matter. As it turns out, I have been accomplishing said goals. THat’s kind of something considering I have a knack for not completing personal projects..take this site for instance. So let’s see where we stand.

1. Get back to fighting shape of 175lbs. Well, I am close. Lost close to 15, and am hovering around 190. Almost swimsuit attire again, look out.

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Al Micheal’s voice rips through my head, “with the score NY 48, Giacomo 12.” At which point certainly some witty quip stating the obvious would fly in from the color commentary such as, “He’s really going to have to score some points to pull this one out.” Indeed. Time to score some  points. The brain is officially fried. Meditation on the beach made me recant the last 10 months, and to be honest, the Giacomo Years haven’t measured up well. Continue reading →

Fucking ridiculous. As a society, human species, what have you. We play games. All the time. We play games when we don’t need to play games. We duck and cover. We swindle. We dodge. All for some meaningless sense of control. I’ve played them, and they are great when you are in control, but when you are the one spiraling out, it’s not such a good thing. It’s downright horrifying actually. All of our decisions affect other peoples lives, we know this. It’s the universal duh, but do we care? Do people care that all of their decisions directly effect someone elses…else. From financial to mental, everything we do, every move, every thought, provokes a reaction. This is harsh no? I, am driven by one thing. Love. It’s absolutely true. I’ll never deny it. Not sure why. I suppose if we dive deep into the heart of it I grew up in a home that had it in different places, and never between the people that conceived me. So yes, I am intrigued. I constantly ask myself the question of “is this it?” “Is this what it feels like?” It must be. I don’t want it to go away, I don’t want any of this to go away. So, in my own minds eye, I stage “interventions.” Stupid little tests that poke at the edges. Pinch it, to make sure it’s real. This..is a bad idea. To question love is to question self. We seek to be justified by our own selves, so if that is in fact true, we question ourselves by questioning love, right? No. That’s probably way off. But I question myself because I am stubborn. I truly believe I have found it, but it hasn’t found me. Therefore I try to force it, which is also…a bad idea. Sitting in the world of not ugly but not handsome affords this. You observe. Poke. Prod. Envy other peoples happiness, and wonder why not me? What did I do? Where did I go wrong? Then we realize we are products of our own youth, and in fact, it’s not where we went wrong, but how we were raised. Not by any fault, just by the sheer absorbing factory that the brain becomes. Words beget more words beget more words, as I struggle to find meaning. THe lights get dimmer and the horizon gets further away as I feel everything slip between my fingers. Why? Cause my heart got infected with the one thing I can never have. The one thing that helps me sleep at night, give me purpose, makes me smile, inspires me. Fuck you love.

Never in my life have I been so challenged as these past couple months. There are countless reasons, true, but my very thesis should have made everything fun. Instead, it is (was..please God let me get to was) probably the most mind-cracking, wtf am I doing with my life, I’m going to explode right now experience. To analyze all these wonderful feelings I looked back to some of the books I had read about play, and play theory. I still..to this day go back to the one quote that stuck out at me even before I opened a page of any of that pulp. “The opposite of play is not work, it’s depression.” Ever curious I wonder if my, totally magnificent brain decided to prove this on a subconscious level. If it did I swear to everything holy that I’m going to rip it out through my ear canals and pound the living grey matter out of it. Studying the serious state of play, should be work, yes, and it is. The deeper you seem to go, however, and the more you seem to push yourself, the darker the path. The treatment by those around, particularly “partners” makes you hyper-sensitive. I’ve never, wait, not true, once before, I have wanted to be so far away from a person that you are pretty sure they moved to another planet completely. That every essence of their being has left this plane never to effect you again. Then, 4 or 5 years form now you can stumble onto their Facebook page wherein you feel a sharp pain in your lower spine. The feeling passes and you click forward to the next profile. I want to be there right now. I want to be, 4 years away. A. To see if all of this, wonderfulness of educational spirit pays off. B. To heal. C. To forget. D. To breathe again, normally, and with predetermined sleeping patterns. E. To smile. F. To live. G. To love. H. Peace. So when someone asks me, at the next interview, “So, what’d you learn?” I am going to lean in, real close like, and say, “Mister, I learned that people just want to live their lives. Some don’t play well with others, and really I don’t want to know those people.”

It seems certain themes keep recurring. I am curious if it has to do with the whole “once you see something once you are wary of it everywhere” syndrome. The theme for me this week, that my mind is coming to terms with is the idea of being replaceable. It’s not a pleasant thing to think about, and I wouldn’t recommend many dwell on it. But it seems like a lot of hostility and frustration comes from this concept. Quite frankly, we are all replaceable. In a world where we are (or at least should be) shooting for sustainability, one would think that it would trickle down to the human. I struggle with this concept now. I am replaceable. It feels better to say it, but in every aspect of your life, you are replaceable. Everyone falls victim to this at some point. Actors, surgeons, lawyers, future NFL players. Maybe the person that steps in isn’t this or that, surely they are not your clone, but they can learn or already do something better than you ever thought you could. You just got replaced bitch. Work. REPLACED! Love. Pitched..then REPLACED (hopefully in that order)!! Bowling teams…all of the sudden you find yourself on the alternate roster. and REPLACED. It is always personal? No, but we almost always take it personally. There’s a little tinge. It’s in the back of your brain no matter how focused you think you are. You might even twitch your left eye when you hear, that you’ve been swapped.

So now the real question, how do we deal with this? I say it aloud, think about the reasons behind it, and try to dissect those. It’s painful. It’s remorseful. It’s humbling. It might not even get you anywhere, and I highly recommend an alcoholic beverage nearby. But you say it aloud. You acknowledge it. Hell, write it down so you know you’ve done it. Then take a step forward. Maybe even go out the door.

I finally had a mini emotional breakdown. I’m a man. I’ll admit it. It was actually quite soothing. You just feel every pain dump out of you uncontrollably. It takes the form of snot, tears, sweat, sound. For the geeks out there I liken this to a Vulcan 7-year purge, for the ladies..I think it’s just normal. To anyone else viewing this it probably looks disturbing. But sometimes you have to listen to your body, and tell your mind to shut the fuck up. Your body needs to purge. The sensation when its all out is more than worth it. It’s pure joy. My thesis is in search for this moment. Certainly is an odd way to find it….I need to be mentally, physically, financially and romantically broke. I wouldn’t recommend this treatment to anyone. You have to have a strong will, and a sense of drive. Even if that drive has been in neutral (or even park) for a while. It needs to be there. That’s the key. The joy, or feeling of joy, comes knowing that we are about to throw this bitch into gear and pound on the gas. That we just pitched a lot of dead weight, cleared the schedule, and just passed a sign on the highway that said “Future 138 more miles…atta way.” So for those of you that were worried about me, and justifiably had a right to be, take note. I’m coming for you UArts, I’m grabbing that Masters in May, and I’m going to blow shit out of the water. Count on it. No more games. No more trials. I’ve beaten your tests. You can’t stop me. I’m already four on the floor, and I had the brakes removed. Seabass….I am going to kick your ass. </inspirational rant>

It’s funny what can step in and fubar the works. You can be trudging along, minding your own business, then one little thing kinks the rails. You’ll find it’s hard to read all your research when that happens. Because of the density of the text sometimes you find yourself stuck in your own thoughts. Listening to your own voice talk back to you at first, then going off on some diatribe about who this and who that. So pointless. I wonder sometimes if I had a sibling growing up if this inner dialog wouldn’t be so damn loud. That maye just maybe, I would have had an actual dialog instead. It’s something that need to be worked on for sure. This bloggy blog sort of helps. Sorta. It doesn’t help that damn much when the lights are out and you just want to go to sleep but you are so wound up thinking about stupid, and I do mean…stupid things like well, just stupidity. I should be thinking about myself and my life right now. Me. What’s healthy for me, and what I plan on working on for the rest of my living days. It’s hard. It’s draining. Honest to God I wish I could block out everyone. Ok not true. Just some people. Anyways, back to reading. Later interwebs, portfolio is shaping up nicely by the by. New camera here any day now?

This has been an interesting past few weeks. No, not interesting, terrifying. I managed to go from utter happiness to a complete sense of loss in a manner of 2 short days. It was a hell of a journey, but $200 later in bar tabs I think I’ve washed it all from the system. See this whole time I thought I was missing something from my life, and truth be told, I was. I had this picture, in my head, of the perfect house/girl/job/insert-anything-here, and because I am no where near achieving any of these things I thought I was a fail. Not quite a failure, no, we save that thought for our deathbeds, but at the very least a noobish fail. I thought it all was driven by the L word. In my undergrad I studied it’s themes for a whole semester, tried to visualize it, give it a form. But recent events made me realize that you can’t do that. In the end it’s really about trust. I’ve never trusted myself, therefore, how can I trust others, which in turn, generates a shit-ton of pessimism, ergo darkening the path. The only person I ever trusted, I failed. I let that eat at me these past few months, and it finally bit me in the ass. Someday, I will get that future, like..with Jetpacks. I’m not completely sure when or where to go from here, but I know that in the end I’ll finally have done something for me, and perhaps, someday I’ll be good enough for LA.

Like many other people in the world, I have a Todo list. This Todo list has been growing, extensively over the past 10 years. It’s small, simple things. Make a bowling team t-shirt. Create brilliant app idea. Do your taxes. And of course, on this list, was make something of at least one of my 20 something URLs. So as a means of flighting from my actual task work, I am finally going to complete my web site of all the content that is me. The ultimate in stalker material. Everything you will ever need to know and more. I must say though, when one breaks down their entire life into the barest elements, and tries to lay them all out together, it sure as hell doesn’t look nearly as impressive as one would think. Guess I need to get out more. Stay tuned.