Good Advice for People with Talent!

DAMN GOOD ADVICE  (for people with talent!)
How to Unleash Your Creative Potential by America’s Master Communicator
George Lois

“To sin by silence when they should protest makes cowards of men.”
Abraham Lincoln

Being raised as a Greek kid in a racist Irish neighborhood and my experiences as a young G.I. fighting in an army committing genocide on an Asian culture led me, indeed forced me, when I came home, to live a life as a graphic communicator determined to awaken, to disturb, to protect, to instigate, to provoke.

At every opportunity, I have attempted to speak truth to power – to fight the “authorities,” unjust courts, police harassment, the consistent loss of our civil liberties, a government that benefits the wealthy at the expense of the poor and powerless, and America’s unending wars – by creating graphic imagery and organizing battles against ethnic, religious, and racial injustice, always standing against a conservative, indoctrinated, and racist society, and playing a conscious role… as a cultural provocateur.

To me, a true creative spirit means to fight the good fight, always rejecting Con… and creating Icon.

  

1. There are only four types of person you can be. Identify yourself:
	1 - Very bright, Industrious. (You’re perfect.)

	2 - Very bright, Lazy. (A damn shame.)

	3 - Stupid, Lazy. (You’ll just sit on your ass, so you’re a wash.)

	4 - Stupid, Industrious. (Oh, oh, you’re dangerous.)

If you’re a number 1 or a 2, you’ll get a lot out of this book. If you’re a number 3 or 4, why are you reading this book?

2. “I yam what I yam, an dat’s all I yam, I’m Popeye the Sailor Man.”
Whether you’re male, female, black, Hispanic, Native American, Asian, or ethnic, you are who you are, and that’s what you are — and be damn proud of it. Don’t change your heritage, don’t denigrate a humble upbringing. Be true to yourself and you’ll ring true to the world. 

3. Follow your bliss.
Reflecting on Sinclair Lewis’ navel Babbitt (1992), Joseph Campbell, the profoundly wise American mythologist and philosopher said, “Remember the last line? ‘I have never done a thing that I wanted to do in all my life.’ That is a man who never followed his bliss.” With this statement, Campbell nailed the secret of living a joyous, fruitful, and successful life: Follow your bliss. That which you love, you must spend your life doing, as passionately and as perfectly as your heart, mind, and instincts allow. And the sooner you identify that bliss, which surely resides in the soul of most human beings, the greater your chance of a truly successful life.

4. My Anti-Slogan:
“George, be careful!”

Looking up from my crib on a dark and stormy night, God commanded: George, be careful.” (I remember it well.) My earliest childhood recollections were punctuated by three words (in Greek) from the lips of my mother, Vasilike Thanasoulis Lois: “George, be careful.” They have been a refrain throughout my life – a sincere admonition from the lips of people who have always meant well but never fathomed my attitude towards life and work. In the act of creativity, being careful guarantees sameness and mediocrity, which means your work will be invisible. Better to be reckless than careful. Better to be bold than safe. Better to have your work seen and remembered, or you’ve struck out. There is no middle ground.

5. When I was 14, I had an epiphany that inspired my life. Maybe it can be yours!

In the early twentieth century, Kasimir Malevich changed the future of modern art and led the Russian avant-garde into pure abstraction. Thirty years later, as a freshman at the High School of Music & Art in Manhattan, I was asked to create similar compositions every day in  a basic design course. The more we ripped off a Malevich, (or Klee, Bayer, Albers, or Mondrian), the better Mr. Patterson liked it. Bo-r-r-ring!

In the last class of the year, When Mr. Patterson (sternly) once again asked us to create a design on 18 x 24 illustration board using only rectangles and called it a final exam, I made my move. As my 26 classmates worked furiously, cutting and pasting, I sat motionless. Mr. Patterson, eyeballing me, was doing a slow burn as he walked up and down the classroom, peering over the shoulder of each student. Time was up. Growing apoplectic as he stacked the final designs, he went to grab my completely empty board, when I thrust my arm forwards and interrupted him by casually signing “G. Lois” in the bottom left-hand corner. He was thunderstruck. I had “created” the ultimate 18 x 24 rectangle design.

I had taught myself that my work had to be fresh, different, seemingly outrageous. From then on, I understood that nothing is as exciting as an idea.