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A 30s-ish woman in a pink hoodie and blue jeans sits, legs crossed, in a cafe chair. Her lid-less coffee rests atop a typical round coffee table that splits the space between her and the empty cafe chair opposite her. She smiles and carries on a conversion complete with reciprocal head-nods, laughter and dismissive glances. A conversation that looks comparatively to be more engaging and enjoyable than any other in the coffee shop between two real and present people.
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A normal enough man walks slowly into the coffee shop with a green bath towel draped over his left shoulder. A soaked Big Ben #7 t-shirt drapes his thin frame as he carries his worn baseball cap in his hand and maintains a pace unaligned with steady rain outside. His tattoo of a bar code is revealed when ordering a large hot coffee. He leaves with a cheery, “take care” and a quiet walk. The plastic patio chairs tucked beneath the short overhang drip with rain.
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Dizzy G drowns out the window AC and Twain’s words rise and swing between the errant drops shed from the sweating glass of bourbon.
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And yet pain hurts but it doesn’t kill. When you consider the alternative — an anesthetized dream of self-sufficiency, abetted by technology — pain emerges as the natural product and natural indicator of being alive in a resistant world. To go through a life painlessly is to have not lived. Even just to say to yourself, “Oh, I’ll get to that love and pain stuff later, maybe in my 30s” is to consign yourself to 10 years of merely taking up space on the planet and burning up its resources. Of being (and I mean this in the most damning sense of the word) a consumer.
- Jonathan Franzen, Liking is for Cowards
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A wonderful combination of art and advertising. Deadline, client, customer– words you don’t hear in this video.
Kudos to agency Red Urban.
