Creative People

Is there life after advertising? Not that anyone has the time to care, since all the fun is in the here and now. And yet, like German humour, the life of the freelance adman is no laughing matter. Coping with the familiar demons, one's 'friends' from the profession, well it is about money, sometimes.

Once upon a ten day siege, there was a wordsmith camped out in the suburban wilderness. He was in the process of earning his money for the second time, and so by the mistake of either a lender or a borrower having been. His colleagues, if ever a freelancer had such things, his peers (they were all peering along the pocket seams of one another for tell-tale signs of money and other forms of breath-diverting currency), his brethren and sisters in alms, they were all also encamped and howling intermittently at one another and the moon. But when the medicine had lost its magic, and the real pains began to shine through, there remained but personal confrontation and the bottom line. And creativity, of course, whichever boring and industrialised lateral-itude it might come from.

At least one of them lived happily after, for the next three months, as it were, since he could now pay his rent throughout that period of time.