Wednesday, June 30, 2010

Don't be fooled...

What we say we want and what we actually want are enormously different.

Too often we rely on logic and reasoning to articulate what we want, and then wonder why we are left feeling disappointed by the end result.

Jon Steel, a fantastic Strategic Planner who I saw speak a few weeks ago, reminded me of a clever example that clearly demonstrates this phenomenon.

Russian Artists Komar and Melamid were determined to create the 'most wanted' painting. In order to define 'most wanted', they polled the American public to determine what they want to see in art. Questions included 'what is your prefered colour', 'do you prefer modern or traditional art', 'do you prefer sharp angles or soft curves' - you get the idea. Once the data was collated, Komar and Melamid started painting by numbers. They used data to create the piece of art that the American public said they wanted. But what was the American publics' response? They hated it. The logic and reasoning (captured in the data) lead to disappointment.

Komar and Melamid essentially challenged the polling frenzy that was governing society. Their study suggested that the 'ask people what they want and we will give it to them' formula was not necessarily a successful one.

Kevin Rudd's recent demotion as Australia's Prime Minister is yet another example of this. When faced with the need to address climate change, Rudd listened to the publics' rumblings (these were something along the line of 'we want to help the environment, but don't want to endure significant personal sacrifice') and took his foot off the accelerator. The public's response? Anger and disillusionment. Whilst Australians might have grumbled about the individual sacrifices required to save their planet (and in the process appear like they didn't want to be part of climate change action), what they actually wanted was a government that stood firm on national and global environmental needs, and lead the change. Rudd took the publics' word at face value, rather than making a strategic leap that would lead to the right decision.

Do people actually know what they want? Shouldn't we make intelligent leaps to produce interesting, innovative and different solutions? If Henry Ford limited his offering to what people said their dream form of transportation was, his solution would have been a faster and larger horse. Instead, Ford made an intelligent leap to produce a form of transport that people never new they wanted: a motor car.

Is it time to stop taking what people say they want at face value?
Is it time to start taking more intelligent leaps?
Is it time to stop painting by numbers?
Is it time to start giving people more of the unexpected?

Sunday, June 27, 2010

Playing in the kitchen

I got a little creative in the kitchen this afternoon.

Lately, I don't even need an excuse to try out a new recipe. However, it just so happens that a friend is hosting a mutual friend's leaving dinner tonight. Whilst others are probably thinking 'yum - someone is cooking me dinner', I am thinking 'yum - what is my contribution going to be?'.

This gave me yet another opportunity to consult my favorite cooking blog: 101cookbooks.com. However I actually didn't get any further than the homepage. The honey balsamic bean salad was too good to click over.

I love this recipe because its simple enough for me to confidently experiment with different variations. In fact, the original blogger said that she added a few bits and pieces 'as I'm prone to do'. Time to get creative.

Rather than using the suggested beans, I took advantage of the opportunity to use up random tubs of legumes from my pantry. In went black beans, bortellini beans, green split peas and chick peas. Now red capsicum is a favourite (for its sweetness and colour), so that was a definite substitute for the suggested green beans. And finally, you can't go wrong with spinach for its decorative effect. So in that went too.

All I can say is that I hope the salad tastes as good as it looks.

As a final note, I got carried away with the legume mixture and cooked enough to feed a small army. Looks like we are having bean salad for lunch! In order to add a little variation (and substance), I marinated some tofu with some pesto, olives, salt + pepper and olive oil. Once cooked, this will taste fantastic sprinkled over the bean salad.

This is the full recipe here:

8 oz / 225 g (about 1 1/2 cups) EACH cooked chickpeas, pinto beans, black beans

1 small head of romaine lettuce, washed, dried, shredded

1/3 cup / 1 oz / 30g sliced almonds, toasted

2 teaspoons extra-virgin olive oil
1 1/2 tablespoons runny honey
2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar
1 1/2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
1/4+ teaspoon fine grain sea salt

10 sprigs fresh thyme

Friday, June 25, 2010

Bliss = dancing with the devil (chocolate)

Chocolate and I have a very special relationship. It plays an integral role in my 'me time'. Often partnered with a glass of vino and a ridiculously cheesy 'chick-flick', chocolate brings me great pleasure.

Yet this relationship is more than special. It is quiet curious. Because chocolate is my naughtiness. I am succumbing to a very raw desire to indulge. Breaking free of my 'health shackles', I am doing nothing more than following my bliss. Pure and naked, I unashamedly luxuriate in the moment.

It is not surprising then that Saatchis' contentious advert in the UK for the Cadbury Flake has sparked my interest.

A very wise colleague of mine stands by the principle that an ad is on the road to success if it incites an emotional response that makes you 'sad, mad or glad'. Flake's ad makes me glad. Glad because someone has finally realised that eating chocolate is not necessarily a serene, peaceful and innocent experience. As I have made quiet clear above, it is almost the opposite for me. And for an ad to recognize this makes me glad.

The ad has obvious cut through within the chocolate category. Is anyone going to forget a dancing devil juxtaposed against an enchanting operatic soundtrack in a hurry? It is definitely different to the standard chocolate ad that generally depicts a single lady wrapped in a cocoon of silk, sensuously sucks on a piece of chocolate.

Of course, an ad's cut through will only get it so far if it's not anchored in a powerful message. The Flake ad is based on a very real insight into women's relationship with chocolate. For many, it's a naughty but hugely euphoric experience. The experience is a moment in time, when nothing else matters except for your dance with the devil: chocolate. The Flake message is therefore loud and clear: "Eating a Flake will illicit a raw and unashamedly indulgent behaviour as your savour every morsel that touches your lips". It really is the 'taste of chocolate never tasted before'.

What I am less convinced of is the ad’s depiction of women as submissive and ghoul like. This is where I think the strategy got a little lost in the art direction. Because for women, their ‘moment’ with chocolate is less about being dominated by an evil force and more about freely indulging in this bliss. Now I don’t want this to be misconstrued as a feminist rant. I am simply looking for the ad to reflect human behaviour. And I honestly feel the power play between the devil and the women slightly misses the mark.

All in all, i am impressed. The verdict? Run it, I say, run it. It’s bold. It’s courageous. And for the most part, it’s true to womens’ chocolate moment.

Wednesday, June 23, 2010

A patchwork experiment

Shesays has hit Australian shores. And in doing so, a designated forum for women with a creative spark has been created

The inaugural event saw Claire Waring share highlights from her business, Craft Shmarft (). Claire’s talk got me thinking. Like Claire, I love to tinker away on randohttp://craftschmaft.com/m craft activities. Yet I get frustrated when they are too complex. I get bored if they take too long to complete. Whilst I enjoy the creative process, I thrive on seeing an end result, and soon!

Claire’s business is based on sock toys. Her ever-growing collection grows as she continues to experiment with simple and fun sock formations. Claire inspired me to pursue my ‘sewing bliss’. But I wanted a simple and fun creative experiment. I wanted my own ‘sock toy’ to tinker with. And so the patchwork pillow idea was born.

Having raided a second hand clothes store at Kirribilli markets, I got my hands on two skirts that screamed patchwork potential. They had random laces, sequences and mix-matched patterns galore!

The fun part was designing which lace section would compliment what mix-match pattern. The challenging part was actually fitting it all together. And this part definitely pushed my sewing skills further than I have ever dared.

Three hours, and 14 inter-connected patches later, I had my pillow. One side of the pillow was definitely messier than the other – I like to think that it offers the it a bit of character!

Possibly the best part of this creative splurge was passing the pillow onto my mum for her birthday. It now sits of her ‘creative chair’ – so I’m sure creative energy will flow between mother and daughter.

My appetite for simply and fun sewing experiments has been re-awakened. I have some black and pink polka dot fabric that’s just begging to be experimented with.

It all starts here

I recently stumbled across a phrase that got me thinking: ‘Follow your bliss’.

What is a bliss? And more importantly, what are my ‘blisses’?

To answer my first question, I interpret bliss as a state of perfect happiness. A sense of complete euphoria.

To answer my second question, where do I start? So many topics and activities evoke that tingly feeling in my stomach.

And so I am creating a blog. To capture each bliss as I pursue it.

Yet my ‘blisses’ are schizophrenic in nature. I often hop from one to another without taking the time to really absorb and reflect on the experience. So this blog is a chance for me to capture all my random but incredibly exciting passions. Whether it’s experimenting with new foods, listening to an inspirational speaker, debating a recently read book or unleashing my creative streak as I mix-match materials on my sewing machine, I can capture (and if I feel like it, deliberate on) them all in this blog.

What will happen to these vignettes, I don’t know. I’d love to discuss and debate them with people who have an opinion on or a passion for my ‘blisses’.

So I’m going to let this blog take its course.

I’m going to see where it takes me.