Work that speaks
I always try to make work that speaks. Literally.
When I saw Feckin Red written out, I could hear his voice loud and clear. The challenge then became to make Red look the way he sounded in my head.
Let me tell you though, Red is a blunt and picky little man. He was fussy when it came to the way I combed his beard or the size of his hat, and he was adamant about having a pipe. I tested out a few different styles on Red. I tried vectoring him first but didn’t get very far because he was fuming in my ear. I stopped mid-vector and moved onto a pencil illustration. This was closer. Much closer. I could feel Red starting to loosen up. I finished up the rest of the beer label and felt pretty good about where Red was landing.
I came back to the label the next day, but something about Red seemed off. He was too put together and wasn’t quite matching that bold personality-filled voice in my head. At that moment, he was Red, but he needed to be Feckin Red.
So I got out some acrylic and things got messy. By the end of it, paint was smeared on my desk, my fingers were black, and I think I went through 20+ pieces of paper. I could see Red grinning and jumping at the sight of this chaos. From there, I updated the beer label and started seeing the Feckin in Feckin Red.
All creatives have their own process and ways of making good work. I’ve found I can usually find my work’s voice best when I step away from the computer and just make. That’s where I find the most passion and drive behind what I do. So when all else fails, I get out a paintbrush, pencil, or whatever I can find, and just go. The more hands-on my work is, the louder it speaks to others and the more original it becomes. This process is what works best for me. Once I picked up a brush and allowed time for play, Feckin Red came alive and the Feckin was found. You can probably hear his voice from miles away.
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