On the Edge; A Freelancer in the Recession

What’s on your mind? Hmmm?

 At some point I’m going to stand down and focus on being an illustrator again. I’m not quite sure when all of this started. I called it ‘moonlighting’ for a while – but my naughty flirtations with disciplines in which I had to right to be turned into a full on drunken handful. One freezing afternoon a couple of months back, Steve Merchant is calling my shitty Motorola Defy and I’m talking to the same man I’ve spent hundreds of hours listening to as he prods Karl Pilkington with Ricky Gervais. We’re talking about The Campaign Against Living Miserably – CALM and the arts. Now it’s a straight up affair with journalism and campaign direction. Steve is a hero of mine – a man who has used his talents and passions to lever himself into a successful career in film, television and writing. I guess that’s what the Xpress campaign is all about – finding what activates you, personally or professionally and embracing it.

It’s full throttle now. On Monday, Dirty Freud and I were on Amazing Radio. Tuesday it’s interviews with Creative Review and Design Week and on Wednesday we’re on BBC 6 Music News, right in the middle of the Radcliffe and Maconie show. The week before that, I sat next to my brother, both of us obsessive pro-wrestling fans, as we interviewed three-time WWE champion Mick Foley. All of it sounds great and trust me, I’m still struggling to take it all in, but there’s a bigger picture to all of this than chasing celebrities.

Over the last six months, I’ve been turning around some of the biggest illustration commissions of my career and I’m half a man from the fourteen-hour days. In the evenings and the weekends, I’ve been grafting into the small hours and travelling the country, caking my face in fucking Nivea Soft in a poor man’s effort to halt the alarmingly heavy eye-bags decsent onto my chin. By ploughing my very existence into this awareness campaign, I’m starting to see tangible results. People have started to tweet me about it, some have direct messaged me and added me as a ‘friend’ on Facebook and others have heard about it through a mate, asking me about Xpress in the pub toilets, at the urinal. I love it and talk about it anywhere.

I love what I do. I may not know what that is any more, but by creating something from nothing and seeing a project conclude, I get the same feeling that Leeds United used to give me in my teens with a victory. That’s why I approached CALM about forming a campaign through which I might be able to share with others everything the arts bring me. But I’m in the minority. That’s why CALM exists, because too many young people loose sight of life’s beauty and see no reason to continue. It’s tragic, but if you have never been shown any ways to express your feelings, how would you know? It sets a dark precedent when things stay inside. The mind is a fragile thing.

The Xpress seventeen-track album is released next week and any profit we make will be donated to CALM. All we’ll lose is the cut taken by the websites and stores who stock it. It’s a banger. Dirty Freud is a DJ and producer, also known as the High Wizard of ‘Electro-Dub’ and the founding father of ‘Ghost-Drone’. He sat in the dark for weeks, sweating and agonizing over perfecting each of the tracks and he nailed it. So please go and buy a copy – it looks beautiful, adorned by the paintings of the talented Hannah Ward with Graphic Design by Sam Price and it will support the arts, new music and CALM’s vital work.

After the BBC 6 Music preview of the album, I received an email from a gentleman who had heard the piece. He told me about the guilt and exasperation he has suffered over the years, that he felt like he was doing wrong by feeling depressed. He went on to tell me that he loved what we were doing with Xpress and that he writes songs to vent his feelings and emotions. I said at the start of this project, that if just one person benefits from this gig, that I would have surpassed anything I have achieved so far. At the time of writing I’ve talked to at least ten people who have come forward and shared their own troubles with us. Every one of them told me that Xpress had helped provide a context through which to do that. Thanks to social taboos, many lads think it’s weak or embarrassing to talk about things on your mind. Fuck weak and fuck embarrassing. We’re all human and life is tough for much of the journey. I’m not sure I’ll ever feel anything more real than the sensory overload I get when I see in someone’s eyes that they’re for real and our work has helped them. To me, that’s the highest high I’ll feel. It makes all those late nights lit only by the glow of my laptop worthwhile and the rest. I’ll return to concentrating on being an artist soon, but whilst this is all going off, I’m just going to go with it.

Check out the Xpress campaign at http://xpressofficial.com

For more on CALM, visit http://thecalmzone.net

Inside The Cabin

Day three and they’re still filming over the road. Massive flood lights beam down onto the house of the guy who lets it out so they can shoot Waterloo Road.At least that’s what my flat mate says it is. He’s away in London, DJ’ing his biggest gig so far. The white light comes through the gap where a section of the blind is missing, tricking my brain into thinking its evening already.

Dream jobs aren’t supposed to feel like this. Or at least they weren’t the way I envisioned them when I was a student. It’s my 4th job for World Wrestling Entertainment, my dream client. My kitchen and living area have been transformed into a fully functioning workshop, ink on the floor and ceiling, eight foot banners leaving my only inches to tiptoe around the place. Without B&Q colour charts, the estate agent would have my bollocks on a barbed wire plate for this and there would be an admin fee for the trouble.

I left the flat once yesterday, to rush out for a fresh batch of acetate sheets for the projector. More unnatural light for the brain to deal with. No wonder I checked my emails on my phone four times in the night against my own will. Just auto pilot.

Every now and again, you sit down and actually think about what you’re doing and the magnitude of it, but for the most part, you just stress, like every other commission, until it’s done and then you smile and enjoy the short burst of adrenaline when the issue lands in the mail and one of the wrestlers tweet about it.

I’m a saddo, I own an actual replica world heavyweight championship belt and I have the wrestling DVDs playing whilst I drag myself through these twelve hour sessions.

Five days isn’t a long time, but it feels that way when you’re halfway through. The middle ground is the worst - so far from the start and the awful blank canvas, yet so far from the Fedex collection on Monday. Even then, the twenty four hours after the pickup is spent painstakingly watching the online tracking service, scared that every time the driver stops for a cigarette, customs have impaled my deadline and therefore career, with a routine hold up.

You have to love this freelancing game. The cast and crew over the road seem to be on a similar shift and I’d go chat to the ones who just have to wander about checking no ungainly characters are about to rush the set if I didn’t worry about what might come out of my mouth after three days of solitude. When I’m back in public, nobody will get a word in edgeways. So instead, it’s a range of podcasts for human company.

But when you see the WWE Champion, CM Punk backed by your work… It’s worth the madness. Just.

Book Release

First of all, Sorry for the five month absence here guys. Right at the start, when I almost lost my mind and threw in the towel on freelancing, I ranted. I ranted at people, but more importantly, I ranted here, on my blog set up just to rant. To my surprise I received some kind feedback from kind people like Kingsley Nebechi and Kate Madigan.

Kingsley actually emailed me personally to check if I was alright, given the desperate tones in my writing. Kate told me that my writing style had a strong, direct style to it. As someone who has not written since GCSE unless cornered with a dissertation, this meant a lot and gave me a boost. Then the fourth chapter of what has since become a 200+ page book was published in Creative Review. Halfway through the book, I took a step back and realised that I had tried far to hard, the words were ranty, too negative and over-wordy, hallmarks of an amateur. Then I stripped it all back and became obsessed. Eighteen months later, I am in talks over a couple of deals, surrounding the book and will be self-publishing. The jacket is designed, the sub-edit commissioned and with any luck, the book will be out in the next six to eight weeks. So thanks to those who took the time to soothe my brain and keep me afloat. You’ll be getting a copy. Here is an excerpt from the introduction.

 6.45am wake up. 7.06am I’m at the kettle, staring through the tiles on the kitchen wall. With the mobile phone alarm still playing out in my room, I flick the switch. Like every weekday morning, I stand with my eyes only partially open whilst I fill this sacred totem, the epicentre of my day. The closest I’ll get to a log fire. It jiggles, reaches its climax and then blesses me with the first brew of the day. The kettle provides a warm corner of the world to crawl into and from here, the council tax bills, the water rates sheets on top of the fridge - they look a little less domineering. I think about it momentarily and today I am unable to confirm with any degree of certainty if I slept soundly or if I woke up in the night thinking about deadlines or outstanding invoices, or in the current situation, the alarming lack of. Both extremes keep me awake at night, most nights. Releasing several short bursts of water from the tap, I hit exactly the minimum volume required to not melt the base of my kettle. A photographer who I lived with during my second year of self-employment told me that for each full kettle boil, it costs 50p, give or take depending on your energy provider. You share such valuable information because there’s a universal empathy among those who work alone. When you go through quiet spells, you develop this mental calculator that is only really active when times are hard. During one apocalyptic Sunday night hangover, I learned from the TV that immediately after each episode of Eastenders, the national grid is forced to lend electricity from France to supply the brew demand from all those viewers popping on the kettle at the same time. The kettle is the heart of any small business and also serves as the perfect tool with which to pour some structure into a day that has none.

As a freelancer, you exist in this weird middle dimension between unemployment and employment. One moment, you can be employed three times over with a scandalous workload, like one of those donkeys you see in poor countries, when the weight is stacked so much on the cart, that the poor fucker is suspended at 45 degrees in the air. The next, you’re more unemployed than you’ve ever been, more out of work than a stretch on the dole. Unemployed right in the face with something cold and wet in front of a hysterical pre-recorded audience. Both have a degrading effect on your state of mind. You get to know little facts about kettles and cosmology and self-human combustion thanks to freelancing’s obsessive and often lonesome nature. You start to neglect the news and other things that people talk about each day in a work place or college so you end up retaining and filing bizarre pieces of information or anecdotes that few people will have any interest in. You hoard a subconscious trove of bollocks from around the internet and it all comes falling out your mouth far too fast before you can think about it, making you look not only attention-starved, but a little unstable too. You start to get more awkward, forced laughs all around when in reality people are worried about you. You keep the facts safe, ready to be regurgitated onto whichever person you next encounter in a social situation.

If I spent more time watching BBC News 24 and less time looking at the obscure blogs and searching for podcasts that might teach me some interesting science stats, I might be better equipped for normal conversation. I’m definitely more unhinged than when I started doing this. Part of that is to do with spending the majority of my time under one roof. Almost three years have elapsed since I closed the door behind me on the way out of a normal life with structure and a guaranteed wage and precious lunch breaks, beer garden by 6 if the weather allows. The signs of instability have always been there but when you take the plunge, any underlying insecurities or bizarre habits you may have previously stifled whilst in the company of others are dragged out from behind the mask and they blow raspberries right in your denying little face. Forced confrontation with your sopping wet reality.

1 note

Re-form, Regurgitate, Run.

I spent a considerable amount of time this week panicking about the consequences of The Stone Roses pulling the plug on the Heaton Park homecoming reunion gigs in two weeks time. Not because I would miss the chance of seeing them. That would be bad, of course, but I’d always have that album and my £60 back. I would be far more hurt by seeing my favourite band of the moment, Dirty North, lose their biggest gig to date at a pivotal point in their careers. They’ll be selling my t-shirt design to help the band at the gigs. This is great for Quenched Music and I in terms of exposure and personal superficial satisfaction as a fan of the band. In dirty, small venues across Manchester, on any given night, I have the luxury of going out and choosing which great band I want to see. If I don’t feel like more music, I can take my pick between any number of envy inducing art exhibitions, theatre or networking events.

As I walk into town, as a twenty-nine year old illustrator and creative director of Quenched Music, I have to circumnavigate the distractions of Cornerhouse on a daily basis, with its wide range of independent movies, magazines and books both native and international that would have me stood browsing for hours, shops such as Magma, selling piles of beautiful artist books, clothing and gifts. I can easily lose five minutes on any street corner studying and photographing a clever gig poster. There’s any number of original plays from Zion Arts Centre in Hulme, to The Royal Exchange Theatre in the city centre. Then there’s Ruby Lounge, Sound Control, Gullivers, The Castle, Factory 251, hot houses for fresh sounds, the list goes on, each venue in the city, no matter how crisp and polished or how gritty and steeped in character rich history, all boast brand new, original exciting talent and events.

Under guise of Quenched Music, we have worked hard enough over three years doing this, to gain admission to gigs to review them and spread the word. After keeping my head down long enough to get past the Cornerhouse yesterday, I looked up just in time to have my eyes gauged out and my brain twisted like a perfect rubix-cube jealously sabotaged, by a reminder of the tear-jerking desperation that mirrors all of this innovation. In stark contrast to the refreshing writing and performance on offer, Hoff The Hook is a stage version of Peter Pan now showing at the Palace Theatre. I wanted to drag David Hasselhoff’s weathered face out of that poster and hug the man out of sympathy, then punch him hard in the jaw and reimburse every one of the poor bastards who have paid over the odds to see this. Instead, I’d walk them down to any one of the great venues in town and show them some proper theatre, done by struggling, talented people, out of love for their craft. I genuinely want to round up every band that has crept out of retirement long after the world needed them, every actor who washes up in embarrassing panto, Jason Donovan, the blonde lad from Steps, shitty talent show cast offs, wrap them in a blanket, make them all a cup of tea and give them shelter from the eyes of the public. In the news this week, they reported that half the offenders given electronic tags have broken curfews. If I had my way, I’d tag every middle aged 80’s star creeping out of the shadows and on stage for a fat payday and bar them from the city venues. Keep them indoors for the good of our new talent. 

For every decent venue struggling because they didn’t promote the talent properly, every freelancer lending their talents to new music or art, or people unwilling or unable to part with a nominal fee to support a talented new band, there sprouts an ugly, tragic, snow white villain style reflection in the form of celebrities, growing like a mould in our cities. Piss poor C-listers are wheeled out into the limelight on tired frames, straight from page 17 of Heat, like racing greyhounds, before vanishing with the cheque because both parties are desperate to wring every last penny out of a name associated with television or national radio, no matter how feeble their exposure on our screens was. For the majority of the public, if it doesn’t involve someone famous, they don’t pay to see it. There are hundreds of freelancers, collectives and bands, like myself, striving to break this apathetic attitude towards our abundant creative talent in Britain. It costs £350 to ‘meet and greet’ Cheryl Cole at one of her concerts. You even get a signed photo, souvenir pass, commemorative programme and brief encounter with the former X Factor judge. Do I really live in an age where someone would stump up that sum of cash, ten times the normal ticket price, when many people are struggling to afford to live, having their houses repossessed, to meet someone from a girl band who judges people craving empty stardom on a talent show? It’s pretty obscene.

I see positives in all of this. The talent shows are dying on their arses. I sat down with Naymedici today, one of the seven bands we hope to work with in our forthcoming project, #VII. We sat there and discussed the band’s needs and we talked about the winner of X-Factor rival, The Voice, not even making the top forty singles chart and the tour being pulled because nobody bought tickets. The singles chart haven’t mattered for a decade or so, but the fact that the winner of a show geared towards a quick earner by fast tracking fallible clown-princes to fame couldn’t even sell records gives me some new hope. After all, the charts were rendered a talent desert by these very same imagination-draining shows. X-Factor ratings have been falling steadily over the last few series. Last year’s winner has been dropped by his label after the album ferociously bombed. Quenched Music started out as my method of levering myself to a position where I would be in the shop window to design CD sleeves. Over three years I have become emotionally invested because the work we do supports those with the talent to shake up all this nonsense and I see the desire to succeed in every band that is out there and I see it going unrewarded.  When a musician tells you over a beer that the work you’ve been doing is noticed and appreciated, it means something.

The problem still remains – money. The talent and desire are out there in abundance. Funding cuts mean that most artists are paying out of their back pockets for love of what they do. I’ve spent thousands of pounds I never owned in the first place to make some progress and I continue to do so. #VII is a project that may never see light of day if funding is denied, but I am investing time, money and energy into it because the unity created by supporting seven of the most talented new artists in the country might contribute to change at a time when music is crying out for originality. It’s slow and at times, doesn’t even seem worthwhile when you find yourself drinking squash at 60p a pint on a night out or walking home in the rain to save £2.10 bus fare, but the exhilaration I feel when I progress and contribute to a bigger picture is a worthwhile buzz.  All the work I’ve done with Dirty North has been free, because I see the potential in their music to contribute to the change and I love the band’s sound. I rarely work for free because it damages the industry but they love what they do, they’re are motivated for the right reasons and I fell in love with their music. I realised that my work could further support what they’re trying to do. Many venues are pricing out the talent. Pay to play is a disease and a self-explanatory system where the talent have to pay a sum for the ‘chance’ to play at a certain venue is deplorable. It’s another monetary leech sucking at the passion of artists in a financially struggling market. There are hundreds of better ways to invest what little money is available to new musicians. 

Many venues price people I know out of hosting new music nights with hefty deposits or unrealistic fees, opting for jaded, regurgitated classics to pacify audiences who no longer influence anything. They don’t want a pay-day, the people I know don’t even want to make money from these nights, but paying £250 up front for the use of a mediocre bar is beyond means and we’re left with yet more rotations of Madchester. This is what we’re all up against in music and the arts. It’s crucial to remember that for one hundredth of the price of shaking the hand and saying hello to a Geordie popstar, you can go and see a brilliant new band who care about your presence, up close and personal and support a local venue.

Crowdfunding plea/Exclusive Interview

For the past year or so, I have been turning my skills, voluntarily, to working as Art Director on the debut feature film of Mark Ashmore. Mark recently took over The Black Lion in Salford with the aim of transforming the venue from a decaying watering hole, to a vibrant cultural nucleus for both Salford and Manchester. I worked with Mark on a short film of his a couple of years ago. His long term goals, like mine, are not financially driven, but to help change the world around us for the better, be it small or on a global scale.

The Lost Generation is an ambitious leap and thanks to people who share the belief of Mark and I that we can make a difference with the right blend of collaboration, a little money and positive thinking, we have been able to arrive somewhere near completion. The film references everything we see around us in society- recession, betrayal from those in power, celebrity culture and counter culture. The movie and its surrounding project is a vehicle for anyone to get involved with and carry a positive message forward. Unfortunately, we have run out of money at a crucial stage and so we have started a crowd-funding campaign in which we ask for a small contribution if we can convince you why it is important that the film makes it to the finishing line. Below is an exclusive interview with director and producer, Mark Ashmore of Future Artists, that will be appearing in my forthcoming book, ‘On The Edge, A Freelancer In The Recession.’ Hopefully this will give you a little insight into our mission.

1. Tell me a little about The Lost Generation and The Unknown

The idea behind project ‘Lost Generation’ was to be able to capture a story as a document for our generation as it happened and then remix this in such a way that we could present it back to them in a way that was easily digestible and kind of speaks their language. Documentaries can be a bit dry, you know the kind of thing, talking heads, cut to some footage of kids smashing in a bank and then more talking heads… I wanted to present this work using as many art-forms as possible so we can start to explore the emotional dialogue of this generation as well as the actions we see around us.

We used the title ‘The Lost Generation’ as it would help to start a recognizable conversation in the media sphere, and the unknown represent all those without a voice; lost, unknown and out of touch.

Film Poster by Andy Thomson/BenTallon

2. Can you trace the origin of The Lost Generation or is it something that has been brewing in the back of your mind for some time?

 I’m part of the lost generation, so all that you see in the film has been brewing for a while, this is the 3rd film in an exploration of my social surroundings and I guess a state of mind, or at the very least, an artistic state of mind. The first film ‘Your State Of Emergency’ dealt with terrorism coming to our doorsteps and explored the ‘double talk’ going off in the media between government and the public, the 2nd film ‘Broken Britain’ dealt with the soldiers returning from a war-zone and how they were treated on Civvie Street, and this film, my first feature film, will look at how we now present ourselves to the world and how the world via the media labels and keeps us locked in…. man, I think I’ve got some anger issues!

3. As I write these questions, it’s kicking off again in London, following on from the summer riots. Today we see the largest public sector strikes in over 30 years and the people are angry. It’s the second time in this book that I have witnessed serious unrest with the riots earlier in the year. How does The Lost Generation reflect the helplessness and anger people are feeling?

 I don’t think the film will reflect helplessness. I want to find some positivity, I’m going to create an ending that will have the audience cheering in the aisles of the cinema. There are going to be a few surprises in this film, one minute your going, “dude, is this for real? Does this happen? And then I want to take the audience out of this thought process and go, I’m watching a film, nothing is real. Yeah there are a lot of riots happening at the moment, the kids are taking the streets, it’s an expression, right or wrong, its just an expression. What we should be doing is asking ourselves, all across society, who are we angry at and why? And maybe look at our own lives a wee bit.

Cast/Crew Photographs by Danny Allison

4. I am regularly left trailing by your innovation in utilizing many platforms to create your work. People would be foolish to think that The Lost Generation is a just a feature film. How big of a role do you see technology playing in people fighting back against those who have wronged them?

 I’m using a new form of story telling that has been labeled transmedia to communicate across various art forms, both digital and analogue. The story of the Lost Generation - everything from the poster, to interviews, to tweets to the feature film itself all contain story, to be enjoyed at different levels, which if all experienced, will give you a complete understanding to what I - the story teller, was trying to express; the true story I want to tell - and as I’m still working this out, using a new expressionist art form like transmedia allows me to work it out and tell it as I go along. At the end you will have this trail you can explore for as long as you like and that will be the story. Regarding the fightback against the 1% that’s easy - stop buying from the big retailers and start supporting independents, this way capitalism will support indy voices, it’s all in the mind dude.

5. I personally find these times simultaneously exhilarating and terrifying. The blanket of apathy begins to slip off our country in the wake of financial atrocities. How can our industry respond to the undermining cuts through the projects you spearhead?

I think artists just need to be truthful - we had this kind of golden age of artists in the early to mid 1990’s and early 21st century, around 2000 / 2001 where the Myspace generation kind of jumped up, you know like the Kevin Smith, Arctic Monkeys and all that, but then the major studios and labels picked them all up, and you can see it with Kevin Smiths work, its been diluted and sanitised, and right now, everyone wants to be a reality TV star. There is a generation who want everything for nothing, and that’s exactly why we are in this mess, but they are products of the media. For so long, artists were seen as products, Damien Hirst is case and point with this, and Banksy uses this as an ironic standpoint for his art work. The most frightening thing as an artist is to tell the truth, you just hope you make a connection and someone is there to listen, and even better if they dig what you have to say.

To help us complete this relevant project, head to our Indiegogo crowd funding page: http://www.indiegogo.com/thelostgeneration

For the official website for The Lost Generation head over to: http://www.projectlostgeneration.co.uk/

I Don’t Like This

I am 29 years old. Is that old enough to qualify as being an old man? I don’t think it is, but I guess it depends how you look at it. Certainly, 29 does not constitute to old age in the physical sense, but attitude? Lifestyle? Views? I am always a couple of steps behind where technology is concerned. My first mobile was a hand me down from my mother that had to be carried around in a Morrison’s plastic bag because even as a Britpop influenced, parka-wearing teenager, my huge pockets were far too small for the brick sized device. She was rocking the Space, Spiders album in the nineties whilst I was weaning myself off The Beatles and onto Blur’s Parklife.

I am admitting, here in writing, that I am addicted to the internet. Not in the playful sense, but a genuine addiction that impedes my life. I’m not grumpy, old or at war with things moving on, in fact my life has been made a hell of a lot easier by the mobility offered by the internet. I remember the first time I owned a computer. My first job at 16 was at Netto supermarket and after buying a Playstation 2, I saved my money for a custom built PC from a friend who fixed and built them for a living. Remember those days? Open the computer, sit through the cacophony of woks being hit with metal spoons as the dial-up modem connected on the fourth attempt? You had to start loading up a page and then go get a cup of tea. Every page that needed loading would take about twenty minutes to fully process. I was enthralled, all the latest football news, downloadable wrestling theme tunes at my finger-tips. If I left it on all day, maybe a song would be completely downloaded by the time I returned from school. Twelve years on and I’ve visited seven different websites on my mobile phone before even getting out of bed on a Monday morning.

It’s actually changed the world we live in in a variety of ways. The problem is, so many people are hooked without even realizing. I’m strict with myself at times. If I am visiting my girlfriend, my phone goes on silent and I am fully in the room. That’s just the way I was raised. I got an absolute dressing down at seven years old because I became so distracted by the Sega Master System arriving that I did not pay the gentleman who we had bought it from any attention and it stayed with me. However, I often look myself in the mirror, appalled with the depths I stoop to. My old studio’s Christmas party, 2010, I found myself in the bathroom, not needing to relieve myself physically, but sat on the toilet with the lid down, loading up my Fantasy Premier League team on my mobile to see if my defender had kept a clean sheet in an otherwise meaningless game. If I am on the bus to town, five minutes after checking my email, Twitter, Facebook and LinkedIn, I am loading them all up again. It isn’t that I am expecting anything, more a habitual cycle that I have fallen into. It’s actually really nasty, a by-product of my job as a freelance designer. I am a prisoner of modern technology and its instant accessibility. If I am actually expecting a client email, I’m a nervous wreck. When any given email can contain a fee for a job, you cannot rest until it has arrived no matter how much you try. Every time I receive a query through my agent for a generously priced commission, it triggers an anxious ride of up to three or four days or a week, where I pester them, refreshing my email every ten minutes whilst out in public. Look around you, we’re all at it. On Saturday, I caught up with a friend who I studied with. Four of us sat watching the football in a York pub. I had my phone out on the table. My cycle went like this:

BBC Football latest scores (Leeds United score, also scores according to who I had picked on my £2 accumulator bet)

Fantasy Football website, checking live points and rivals team selections/performances

Twitter to see if anyone had replied to my ‘tweets.’

Email in case some desperate client is working the weekend and has sent me a bone.

This was repeated in the same order from about 12.30pm until 7.30pm.

Directly across from us, my friend pointed out a couple who sat facing each other on a table for two, heads looking down, not at the meals that they were supposed to be enjoying, but both staring into their Blackberry phones. I found it a very unsettling scene yet a reflection of the times. I’ll be sat at home, working away on a commission, and notifications will flag up on my Facebook telling me that somebody is in (X) place, In Manchester or wherever they are and at what time. I receive petition pleas on a weekly basis to try stop the governments using technology to keep an eye on us at all times but they’re probably already at it.

Ben Tallon: Can anyone sub me £400 so I can pay my tax on time?

Moira Stewart likes this.

There are lots of plus points to all of this. My job would be entirely different if it were not for mobile technology. There is no way I would be able to visit my parents like I did last week, logging onto their internet and working from my old bedroom on Friday whilst catching up. People can call the emergency services in the event of an accident in the most dire of circumstances. I can ask loved ones to text me to say they are alright after a walk home. But personally, I am addicted and it isn’t pleasant or easy to overcome. It used to be that when I wanted to lock myself away in my bedroom and just relax, I could choose not to pick up the phone. But since the advent of smart phones, I only have to lift my fingers and roll my eyes to text a friend or check my emails. It would be easy to say, ‘well, just ignore it or don’t do that.’ But there is this incessant underlying feeling that you are missing out on something really exciting or noteworthy. Now, you know that the person who’s call you have just let go to voicemail knows fine well that you always have your phone next to you and that you are an ignorant wanker. So you call or text them back, out of this technology fuelled guilt to say ‘sorry mate, will ring in a bit, on a deadline.’ But in doing that, the downtime is shattered and before you know it, you’re reading about somebody you have met four times’ opinion on the latest Saturday tea time talent show dirge.

If I leave the house and I am out with my friends without the opportunity to slip into the bathroom and pick up an email, I scramble back through the flat door, hurriedly flicking on the modem and powering up the laptop only to find that the extent of what I felt I was missing out on was an email from Ticketmaster and a ‘like’ on my comment on a friend’s Facebook status. The worst part of it all is the social blight that mobile technology has become. I often feel like taking a friend’s phone out their hands and smashing it on the floor. My perception of ignorance is not reciprocated by many other people and I am often left tapping my pint glass whilst my company ‘likes’ a status. I feel sorry for parents and grandparents who have missed out on all of this because whilst they were fortunate to grow up in an era of face-to-face socializing at the pub or cafe, they now have to sit and hold half a conversation because their son or daughter is smiling vacantly whilst they are really in a virtual conversation with whoever is at the other end of cyberspace, pretending to be with their own respective company. There should be counselling for the poor bastards who fall victim to this. Even now, tucked behind my Word document is my Firefox browser. Each second that passes, I grow more tempted to break from writing or working on an illustration and double check that nothing has changed online in the last three minutes. I just checked, and it hasn’t, but I’ll be back there in five more minutes if I can last that long. It isn’t unusual for me to leave the flat for a walk to the shop in the hope that when I return, the email has landed. I am waiting on several job queries this week and I consciously arrange and strategically place distractions and tasks throughout the day so that the waiting is bearable. I am one of a generation who will be the last people to have experienced the old school methods of human interaction at its fullest, so to me it is a little scary to see kids not out of nappies on Skype calls. Instead of Duplo it’s the CBeebies website. I think I preferred the 1980’s Hollywood film interpretation of floating cars and cyborg barmaids.

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KONY 2012

It’s the closest I’ve felt to tears over a bowl of muesli. Not because of the standard of ASDA’s budget cereal- it’s actually pretty good. Yesterday a friend sent me a link friend on Facebook. This probably happens about three or four times daily and they usually consist of something that will make me laugh. Of late there’s been videos of David Brent accidentally head-butting an interviewee on The Office, a montage of all thirty two goals Tony Yeboah scored for Leeds United between 1995 and 1997 and a couple of music videos for one hit wonders. Yesterday’s link was an invite to a postering event on April 20^th, 2012. I didn’t pay much attention to it at first since I was in the midst of sending off a couple of concept sketches to clients. As the day went on, all I could see on Twitter and Facebook were conversations and debates about something called KONY 2012. So I loaded up the video and left it on a separate window in my internet browser, intending to watch it in the evening. I then became distracted, reading the book given to me as a birthday gift by my brother. This morning I got up a little late, feeling tired and since things have gone quiet as I await feedback on concept sketches, I thought I’d get a little extra rest. Sitting down at my desk, like Groundhog Day with my cereal and coffee, I thought I’d watch the video. Fuck me, it was by far the most moving bowl of cereal I have ever had. On many occasions in this book I have written about the potential for positive change that social media and modern technology offer. It allows divided and scattered people and communities to communicate, unite and find strength in numbers. Even a person who may consider them self without talent (nobody is) can reach thousands of people from the comfort of their home, or library or wherever else they may find access to these channels. I have seen many campaigns gather momentum and exposure from this South Manchester flat and I find it all very inspiring. A few years back, people used this to prevent the X-Factor Christmas tune from reaching number one and instead, Rage Against The Machine claimed it. Small fry in a world where there are millions of problems, but the bigger picture was the showcase of people power and it’s impact when given a platform.

The information is out there for you to read for yourselves so I’ll be brief. Joseph Kony is a rebel force leader in Uganda. For thirty years he has been turning kids into child soldiers, mutilating many and raping others. Heavy stuff, the child who is the focus of the film saw his younger brother killed after attempting an escape, heart rending footage that really opened my eyes to how fortunate I am in my circumstances. A film-maker in the US travelled out there and after seeing the camps, made a documentary. Along with the film, he has started a campaign to make Joseph Kony famous, to raise enough awareness and public support in order to force the governments, particularly the US government to lend it’s support in capturing Joseph Kony. On April 20^th 2012, a worldwide campaign to cover major cities across the world in KONY 2012 posters, to raise awareness of the magnitude of the issue will happen. Through the same channels I have read much criticism and concerns over the charity’s (Invisible Children) use of the funds donated among others. I do not know enough to comment but as I sit at my desk this morning, like every other morning, I feel more relevant and powerful than ever before. If a documentary film can go viral to this extreme, causing arguments among friends and people to respond in all manner of ways, imagine the log term implications. Social media has changed everything, literally a revolution stemming from the comfort of our homes. It doesn’t change the fact that I am sat here dressed like a clown in a range of horribly clashing jumpers until the flat warms up or the fact I am going through a quiet spell on the business front, but it does mean I have the power to make a difference. I always knew that in my profession, visual communication, that power has always been there. But this is the single biggest exclamation point I have seen placed on the matter so far and it has me all excited. For every corporate job I turn around to pay the bills, I can use the money to support myself whilst I think where my skills could be best used for greater good and set about reaching the right people. What makes it even more satisfying is that thanks to Mark Zuckerberg and Steve Jobs, I can sweep the floor, do the laundry and get a shave whilst I do it.

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Notes on public transport

The following transcript is written on the 10.30 Megabus journey from Manchester to London for my weekend teaching shifts at St.Martin’s College. It is suggested that Megabus alone has sustained the creative industries over the last few years. But for those crazy low fares comes a spiritual price. I hope that these notes will strike a chord with all you freelancers and anyone else unfortunate enough to be subjected to the budget coach service.

10:15 Shudehill Station, Manchester

 Upon arrival with my backpack and Greggs coffee/sausage sandwich, my foolish optimism regarding my odds of having a double seat to myself is vanquished immediately. The restless queue of people bound for London represents humans in their purest form. There are worried and twitchy faces glancing nervously around the station, sensing threats from those who feel that seat 9b is going make a world of difference to that of 10a. In truth, the only seat I don’t want is the one that is adjacent to the miserable nook that serves as a toilet on these budget trauma trolleys.

10.32am Mega Bus, front aisle seat.

 I dealt early, pouncing on the front seat, spying the opportunity to feel like I might breathe oxygen over the next five hours, not sweat. It also appeared that the girl next to me had a sense of personal hygiene. I cannot cope with another five hours of body odour or any other scent from the raft of stenches on these journeys.

10.54 Motorway

I wonder if there will ever come a time where the seat coverings are anything but vomit inducing in their colour and design? I highly doubt it. Remember those nasty ones on 1980’s and early 1990’s buses with the brown, orange, yellow and black checkers? I try my best to look at my notebook and not the seat covering but it’s morbidly addictive and I eventually have to stop everything to focus on not throwing up.

11.21 More Motorway

The mobile phone behind me sounds like it has been hooked up to the fucking speakers on this bus. It’s volume and bass is ridiculous and I wheel round to see that the baboon who takes the call is unsurprisingly relentless in shouting his entire argument with whichever woman felt so desperate to take this wretch into her home, let alone her arms. He keeps this argument going for at least ten minutes with such gems as spelling out ‘ENOUGH’ phonetically, complete with corrections in his apparent termination of the relationship.

12.05

Three quarters of an hour of relative peace before I drop my drink bottle onto the floor. Before I can snatch it back up, it rolls down the big step and into the driver’s pen. He glances down, slightly perturbed but I dare not stoop for it incase it unsettles him enough to crash the vehicle. Nobody needs that.

12.10

The bottle rolls back towards me and lunge forward, unclasping my seatbelt in one motion then grabbing the bottle I withdraw myself from the driver’s peripheral vision before flopping back into my seat, bashing my ribs on the arm rest as I do so.

12.20 

As if I wasn’t uncomfortable enough, the journey takes a turn for the worst as I now squirm as much as you can squirm when the passenger next to you falls into a deep enough sleep to lean against you. My tendency to put others first is exploited as I do not want to wake her, so I sit, cramped up with hamstrings screaming at me to stretch my legs whilst I make these notes and doodle away, trying to cast my mind forward to teaching later in London.

12.50

Respite as the stranger next to me sits forward, attempting that pathetic forward lean with the head rested on the chair in front at a 45-degree angle that any regular public traveler will be familiar with. Within seconds, one tiny misery is substituted with another as an unmistakable reek of urine wafts down from the tomb at the back of the coach. Many gag, I just slide down my seat in defeat, logging on my phone to write something masochistically humorous about it on Facebook. No amount of ‘likes’ will ease this dirge.

13.30

After a brief snooze, it’s back to note taking. It’s one of the altogether pathetic attempts a sleep that you nonetheless attempt, wrapping the curtain around you as a makeshift blanket, craning your neck and opening your mouth, all the Saharan sand grains entering your mouth and confiscating any notes of moisture in time for the wake up.  I must capitalize and derive some positives from this traumatic raft crossing to the capital. The urchin behind me is shouting again, apparently back with his ex. How they could’ve broken up and made up in the duration of this journey is beyond me, I just shake my head and look at the time again. No way out.

13.53

I’m thinking backwards this time, to the worst coach spanking I have ever had to endure. Nine hours from Sofia, Bulgaria to Istanbul, Turkey. The only Brits on the journey, my friend and I were dealing with gritty hangovers from a local poison called ‘Raki.’ We had already slept through the morning ride and we only just made the evening one. The drivers switched over at 70mph on the motorway without even considering slowing down, leaving the wheel unattended for around four terrifying seconds, like something from Speed 2. It should comfort me now but frankly, it doesn’t. I look around the coach behind me and I wonder how many of these passengers are freelancers like me, attempting so save money at the cost of spiritual currency. Monks have tapped out of the fight to stay in society for reasons like this, I am certain of it.

14.44

The inevitable happens, just when I am about to drop my guard. I shift my position in order to get the blood flowing again and as I turn round momentarily, I catch the three person melee about three quarters way down the aisle as a mother cups the mouth of her son with her hand as he spews out whatever nutrients she selected in a sorry effort to prevent this. Of course she has saved the person in front but what the other two heroes thought they could achieve in darting out of their seats I do not know. It eventually calms down but the new devil is released into the already heavy environment, the unmistakable odour of child vomit.

15.02

The reek is making me nauseous. Thank god I wasn’t drinking last night or the man in the driving seat would be unfortunate enough to take my own projectile nasty and then we’d all be in trouble. The child is back to his action figures now, the misery forgotten, but the vomit/piss fusion that pollutes the carriage is the stuff of nightmares and the silence is no longer that of boredom, it has taken on a new aura of self pity.

15.08 

None of the afore mentioned comes as a shock to me which is why I was on hand to make these notes. I hope that I find a use for them as this could be the start of a textbook on coach travel. The bastard three seats back continues to vocally abuse his girlfriend’s ear whilst the look on the driver’s face is one of acceptance and spiritual ascendancy. He has graduated beyond the woe that we all soak up right now. The bus is trundling into London, the smog outside a welcome replacement for this pilchard tin.

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Guest Post, Kevin Hauff

Kevin Hauff is a veteran of the Illustration game. He taught me at UCLAN and his advice and lecturing skills have proven one of my most crucial tools in avoiding the many traps that all creatives must circumnavigate in the modern day creative industries. Check out his stunning work at http://www.kevinhauff.com/ but these words may prove pivotal for many freelancers:

After an invitation from Ben to contribute, I’ve raised, pondered and addressed a few questions about how the current economic climate is influencing the way both freelancers and clients are dealing with copyright; mainly with regard to retaining and relinquishing copyright ownership. To begin there’s also a brief tale of one particular experience I had as a fairly new graduate with a prominent client who employed a rather dismissive attitude to copyright law. To protect all concerned I’m not going to reveal the end users.  

Lord only knows I’ve made virtually every mistake possible in the illustration game, fortunately I was lucky to learn early on in my career about the benefits of protecting copyright. Having not been long out of college I was still very naive when it came to how copyright worked in relation to an illustration commission, cutting my teeth on editorial’s initially where the copyright rules were generally pretty simple. At around this time, I was taken on by an Agent so Design and Advertising work started to come in. Luckily this Agent was instrumental in my second education in terms of making oneself aware of the nitty-gritty that surrounds an illustration commission, and subsequently how to protect oneself against the occasional charlatan in the game, that beware, do exist.  

I was invited to submit sketches for a national campaign, starting with a brochure, which would if successful, expand to many further commissions - the eternal carrot - how often have I heard this since in my career, especially “if you can keep the fee low”? Several artists were considered for the job, but I got lucky and my then Agent secured the commission. Terms including fees, deadlines, copyright usage and assignment were all agreed in writing. Copyright assigned for one print application only, full copyright and original artwork ownership retained by artist. The commission was then completed, any amendments dealt with and all the deadlines were met. Client pays promptly. Everyone happy. I thought that was the end of the story, little did I know! A mushroom cloud of initial disbelief, followed by frustration and anger erupted several weeks later. Up until now, all the companies I’d ever worked for had been as straight as an arrow. A baptism of copyright fire perhaps… After several weeks the Agent visited the client premises to pick up the original paintings (required for an annual book promotion) only to find the artwork had been applied to many items outside of the agreed terms, including cards, posters, exhibition panels, flyers, merchandise etc. All sat in the office, ready, waiting to be sent to the end user client. The agent requested to see the Art Director asap (without appointment) and refuses to leave without being seen - FIGHT! The agent politely pointed out the breach of copyright issue and requested extra payment for multiple copyright infringements. Art Director then bluntly declined. Agent (volcanically enraged) then consults end user client, informing them of Ad agency / Design Group malpractice re: copyright infringement. Agent consults (copyright specialist) solicitor, threatening end user client and Ad / Design company with a lawsuit for breach of copyright. End client user comes down on the Ad agency / Design Group like a ton of bricks having zero knowledge of the original copyright terms, threatening to retract their entire account if the issue is not resolved. Ad agency / Design Group finally admit and agree that they have ‘taken a few liberties’ in terms of the copyright assignment. Through gritted teeth, they finally agree to pay for all copyright infringement, then threaten to ruin both Agent and the Illustrator in the Art & Design business! 

Copyright fun and games. What did I learn from this? ALWAYS, but ALWAYS ask for copyright terms as the fee, deadline and the theme of the commission are being negotiated, especially if the artists does not have formal representation by an agent. Once agreed, ask the client to confirm in writing so there is proof of the original arrangement where both parties are clear as to how the work will be used. I also learnt to generally stick to ones guns about retaining copyright ownership of artwork, but alternatively, when required, to be open minded and flexible too. In some cases I have signed up to abysmal terms with regard to the copyright ownership, for one reason only. I had the opportunity to work for a client that I’d always wanted to work with. Sometimes it can benefit in the long term to just grin and swallow the bitter pill, while gaining some satisfaction that the bagging of a high roller is payment enough for the deal with Beelzebub. It is just part of the game. Before this incident I would never have asked about copyright. I now ask every time I get an enquiry and commission from a new source. The most important thing is knowing what you are signing away in the first place, so that you can make an informed choice as to the best course of action to take when the thorny issue of copyright assignment and ownership comes up, and it will, its only a matter of time. 

Constantly monitoring copyright terms with all of the other associated freelance paraphernalia is yet another issue to address and is usually never at the top of the freelancers list, especially at career start. Ignorance with regard to copyright ownership could be a potential stormy sea for the unwary, especially those afloat on a rough ocean of limited experience. When it comes to the potential for ripping off both artists and even photographers, some mercenary clients can be rather vampiric, sucking as much out of the commission as they can get away with. If copyright has been agreed and signed off by all parties then you would think that would be the done deal, adhered to by all. Sadly not always so, as in my little tale which went on for some time afterwards, resolved in the end, but was a salutary lesson to learn early in my career - agree terms in writing - and check on what the client is up to with the print run. 

A few questions spring to mind with regard to the current illustration market place and how clients are changing and adapting their copyright requirements… 

1. Are all clients circling sharks tasting the blood in the water ready to exploit their contributors?  

Thankfully not. Actually, the vast majority are a pleasure to work with, some are wonderful and even go on to become life long clients where a healthy working relationship brings great creative rewards for both artist and client alike. This makes the odd copyright trickster pale into insignificance. Learn the rules and its fairly simple to play the game - even defensively when required. 

2. So where are we now and why do more clients seem to be requesting outright copyright ownership?  

From discussing this with clients of late, its all about maximising how far their budget will go. Quite simply, in this economic climate of restricted outlay the aim is to reduce their expenditure for extra usage on the artwork. If the artist owns the copyright, every time the end client wants to use the artwork for something new they have to consult with the artist, negotiate permission and pay an extra fee. Time, effort and money. If the client has copyright ownership, they can use the artwork wherever and whenever they want to, over any time frame, without consulting the contributing artist. Time and budget efficient. Worrying isn’t it? Especially when the piece of work concerned may well be something the artist has put heart and soul into and the manner in which the client is using the work starts to differ from initial expectations. Which scenario would you rather have, copyright retained or copyright sold? 

3. Playing devils advocate; are clients protecting themselves from the artist with outright copyright ownership?  

In some cases yes, and rightly so. There must be some self policing and restraint by the artist, where the artist respects the aims and intentions of the client and their respective campaign in the manner in which they use the artwork for any future personal gain, be that promotion, resale, competition entry, stock sale etc. Consider the potential scenario where an artist gains a commission, retains the copyright as is their right, but then decides that in a few week or months to resell the rights of this image to another rival client. The same image now being used in two similar campaigns by rival companies, at roughly the same time. If the artist retained the rights, they would have done nothing ‘wrong’ from a legal perspective, but little consideration would have been shown to the original client who’s campaign with the original artwork would now be next to useless. Is it any wonder clients want full copyright ownership? After all they are only trying to protect their (considerable) investment in the grand scheme of their campaign. Perhaps, another reason why a client would like full control of the use of the artwork. 

4. What can the freelancer do to protect their copyright? 

Read the small print! Firstly, know the basics of how copyright works. Secondly, ask questions when the client initially makes contact. Prepare a check-list in advance so that you are ready. They only need to be basic introductory questions: My intro list runs like this:

1. What is the theme?

2. What is the deadline?

3. What is the fee?

4. How and where is the image to be used?

5. What are the copyright terms?

From those simple questions, either by phone or email, the freelancer should be able to gain enough info to start proceedings and then expand with more searching questions if the job progresses or the klaxon starts ringing. Thirdly, if very restrictive, the freelancer does have the right to say no to the copyright terms offered by the client, then perhaps renegotiate by submitting alternative ‘compromise’ terms to which the freelancer would be happy to undertake the commission. It is here that the tug of war begins and on more than one occasion this has worked out beneficially. Although I’ve found it best not to be overly pedantic as the client may become impatient and go elsewhere if a king’s ransom is requested as part of the deal. It is at this stage where negotiations get interesting. Finally, and probably most important of all, get everything regarding the copyright terms agreed in writing with the job purchase order. 

5. Does the artist have to sign away their soul in blood with every commission? 

No. Although on occasion you may have to choose how much you are prepared to sign away. In the current economic climate, all freelancers are at the mercy of the clients, (any client), as not only are the number of commissions decreasing due to shrinking budgets for such a luxurious commodity as an illustration. The very future of the clients themselves are also in jeopardy, threatened by the these European / global forces of financial doom. How many Magazine, Design Groups and Advertising Agencies that you know of or have had dealings with have gone into receivership in the last few years? I would bet a pound and a dollar (but not a euro) on more than one. Is it any wonder clients are tightening their copyright terms? Quite frankly, I don’t blame them. Of course, it doesn’t make it correct or fair practice in terms of what we the freelancer expect or hope for when we sign on the dotted line, just a reality we have to deal with. Most commissions will remain with a copyright bias towards the artist, but it seems an increasing number will not. 

6. What about the Internet? 

Copyright still applies and stays with the artist, unless otherwise agreed with the end user client. Although what I’m finding are that some clients are requesting copyright ownership for a short period of time only (often thirty, sixty or ninety days), where they can use the artwork for both print and web. I personally don’t mind this copyright flexibility for two reasons. Firstly, the client gets what they want (for a limited period), so if the client is happy and if the commissioned work is of high standard, then hopefully they will come back to the contributor for new work. Secondly, by using the artwork on the web the client allows greater potential for the exposure of the artwork in question, essentially free net advertising for the illustrator concerned, as well as the usual print visibility as well - as long as the contributor is name checked. All for a little open minded flexibility when copyright assignment is negotiated. One of those rare win/win situations when both parties gain from signing away the rights, the caveat being, only sign the rights away for a short time span, the aim is for the artist to keep the rights once the copyright allocation ends. 

7. What does it all mean in the short term? 

Recent economic gloom + double dip (pending) recession + restricted outlay for all clients = fewer jobs for freelancers + revised copyright terms.  

Something we are going to have to get used to unfortunately. It seems the recent golden period of illustration is now over. Its been tough, its tough now and its going to get even tougher if the news headlines are to be gauged as an accurate barometer. Consider this: If you do gain a commission, firstly count yourself lucky, you are producing work that is gaining the right sort of attention, but what happens if that commission is dependent upon relinquishing the rights on the job? What do you do? There are plenty of other freelancers circling each commission, ready to relieve it from your hands if you let it go. Only quite recently I had to make this choice. I chose to let the rights go. It hurt, but I deemed it necessary as the client was one I’d always wanted to work for and I also needed the income, so I decided not to miss out on the opportunity. Though it is not something I intend to do with every client.  

With the illustration market compromised by external economic woes I think it really is time to tighten belts and not only that, certainly in the short term future it may be time to be willing to sign away those precious, much prized and passionately fought over copyright terms for a lot less than you (or I) would ordinarily like, for the one clawing simple fundamental reason, the need and desire to survive…? 

Beware The Big Bad Intellectual Property Wolf

Have you ever noticed how sirens always seem to wail when the apocalyptic weather hits? I know it should be a no-brainer seeing as a small handful of solipsistic amoebas cannot see the connection between wet roads and wrapping their souped up Nova around a lamp post but still… I find it very unsettling listening to the Sin City below as Manchester winter rain assails the skylight above my head, chased by the inevitable wail of the emergency services. For all us creatives, there is a new emergency. Here I go again with the melodrama, but if the issue continues to be played down, our already suffering industry will be dragged out the woodshed and a bullet will be put in the back of it’s head.

Last week I received an enquiry from Advanced Photoshop Magazine. A couple of years back, the same title featured me in a double page spread interview and showcase. This was one of the biggest ego-tickles I have received so far in my career, a glowing nod of recognition that the hours spent weeping into a pillow through raw frustration as the rest of the world sleeps were not in vain. Sure enough the details and the job confirmation forms came through. Now at this point, my younger, less-experienced self would have skirted over the terms, not really taking in any of it because after all, the internationally recognized publishing house, Imagine would never huff, puff and blow down my Illustration house, not a company of such repute… But right now in 2011, I have evolved and sit amongst those whom have become established in the business. I believe that it is our charge and responsibility to protect the industry that allows us to make a living and enjoy the job that consumes a vast portion of our lives.

Recently, I have been working for a selection of American clients. Through caution of the unknown, I have made a habit of meticulously reading through the freelancer contracts that accompany each commission as this is paperwork that I had seldom experienced before I started marketing worldwide. I quickly stumbled across several terms that I deemed bad practice. The terms basically stated that I would relinquish all rights, full ownership and copyright of my work for what was already a lower end fee for the work I was doing. I made my concerns aware and stated that the contract would have to be amended accordingly if I was to accept the proposed commission. On each occasion, the publishers of the magazine rescinded the clause and drafted me up a fresh single use contract either by simply asking me to put a line through each clause I would not accept or deleting them and resending the document. So after raising my objections with Imagine and explaining why, I sat back and waited for AP to get back to me. I was ultimately shocked and fucking riled to discover that they had no intention of doing so and that all their existing illustrators work to those terms, therefore any publication I might work for under their banner would see the same terms enforced. I knocked back the job despite badly needing the money, power resting firmly in the lap of the publishers thanks to Illustrators not standing their ground to protect themselves or the business. I will explain why I rejected the work, but I would like to place on record my thanks and appreciation to the staff at Advanced Photoshop Magazine because they were fully understanding of my values. The behaviour of their publishing house is no reflection on them, nor does my anger extend to them. They merely produce a magazine for those who pay them to do so.

 That night I posted a warning on Twitter to my followers warning them to be careful if they work for Imagine, stating the above incident, albeit crammed into 144 characters. One follower replied to my tweet, he seemed a little angry, telling me that the money he was paid by Imagine was six times the amount he earns in is part time job in a week and that it was a crucial opening door in his career, still being a student. I fully respect where he was coming from having spent ten years in low paying jobs to make my own way into this career. £2.63 per hour fishing ocean blue rotting loaves of bread from behind shelves at Netto circa 1999 forces you to appreciate your money. However, he had missed my point completely but in turn, provided me with a case in point to highlight the reasons why I stood my ground for what I believe is the good of this business. It goes back to the self-value you shed in working for free, bar a few cases where it is worthwhile doing so. By being aware of exactly what you are selling and the implications involved, you will protect both yourself and the creative arts as a whole. For a long time I never fully understood the whole usage and territories thing but to cut a long story short, these are factors you should be considering when pricing your work.

In the case of Imagine, I fell victim to other illustrators accepting the bully tactics employed. Why would Imagine pay me properly for the usage of the work if every other illustrator they use back down for fear of losing work? My problem with these guys lies in the long-term implications. What happens when these companies no longer have to pay advertising fees because they have filled their library with the artwork they now own? What happens to the poor bastard who relies on the odd advertising job to support his family? There will come a tipping point in this recession where clients destroy any respect that Illustrators who fought for their rights earned in the first place and then the same guys will see my point. If we ever see the end of the current economic crisis, what happens then when the standard practice is to pay what you can spare from the petty cash for Illustration? It’s a long way back in a dog eat dog market.

The major issue is that more and more companies use their size advantage to grab the freelancers by the scruff of the neck, ram them against a brick wall and relieve them of their dinner money in times like these because they can. I mean let’s face it, the short term desperation we all face is devastating to many and some of us have no choice but to take the money on offer. After all, what does it matter if the work is used again? The phone bill is paid, right? 

Many creatives are very, very pissed off right now at the government. We are pissed off at the banks. We are fucking raging that the financial elite sit in their palatial domiciles whilst the rest of us pick up their expenses and come home with a carrier bag full of injustice that might just stretch a thread too far and snap, spilling all over the place. But we cannot shed all responsibility, the ripple effect is far reaching and we start to see it more and more in our fragile profession. Corruption is rife and only if we stand together and unite can we keep the foundations strong. This is our fight like everybody else and if we all just learn to say no, the companies in question will have no choice but to recoil and treat us with the respect we have been afforded by those that built this house.

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