Branding...

I would be surprised if many of you upon reading the title of this post had visions of the burning of a cows flesh with a unique iron design in order to indicate ownership.

"to make a mark by charring" - and can be administered to wood, livestock or humans...

This original meaning is almost entirely lost in our modern hyper-corporate, advertising drenched, consumer capitalist culture.

It now means (basically exclusively):
the act of giving a company a particular design or symbol in order to advertise its products and services
Both a name, logo, and slogan are part of the "branding" process to create for a company a unique, recognizable and memorable identity.

Names, logos and slogans can be trademarked and owned.

Trademarking is a formal registration process which costs somewhere between 100-300 dollars and gives you exclusive rights to the trademark for 15 years at which time it is open for renewal for another 15 years etc.

So while there are legal aspects there is also practical ones. Regardless of legal trademarks choosing a name that is the same as another company is problematic and liable to cause confusion. However, as the internet shrinks our world, the amount of other companies that one is competing with for online recognition expands.

Naming things is a very human activity. Both knowing names and giving names.

Naming the animals was the task Adam was given by God in Genesis 2. 

I like naming things. Coming up with a name for a band or website or piece of art is one of my favourite parts.

Coming up with funny baby names is fantastic!

I feel awful when I forget people's names...

Often people use their own name in creating a brand:
Real Estate Agents, Actors, Directors, Photographers, Artists, Contractors...
Your name has the advantage of, most of the time, already being unique.
I have often put the title "a Duncan Ris film" at the beginning of my video projects. 

As I am slowly and hesitantly embarking on creating my own small production company, I have the exciting task of picking a name...

The production company name I used in high school was "Shoe Nazi Productions" - a double reference to Seinfeld's "soup nazi" and a prank my cabin, at Charis Camp, pulled involving stealing everyone's shoes...

Other names I have used have been:
Endurance TV
Broken Laughter
and most recently: Camosun

Camosun Productions. (Its too bad I don't have a website yet I could add a link here)

I live near Camosun street and Camosun Bog.
“Camosun”, a local Lekwungen (Songhees) First Nation name meaning “where different waters meet and are transformed.”
This idea of gathering and transformation captures much of my hope and vision of the power of film and television.
Choosing the name Camosun is also a way in which I was trying to embrace my locality.

Am I stealing and repurposing First Nations culture? I don't think so. Although I welcome First Nations input on the matter. I am trying integrate myself into the land and people I find myself in...

However this leads me to another point: Is there something inherently problematic with the idea and reality of branding. The coopting of language for the purpose sales...

Is there something in that process that drains meaning out of the very words we are using/stealing?

"Marketing is essentially feeding the poop back to diners fast enough to them think they're still getting real food. Its not creation, really, but theft, and no one ever feels good about stealing." - Generation X, Douglas Coupland

Do I want to be a brand? If I become a brand do I become less of a person? How do I navigate and separate my work and my identity well? How does using my name as a brand impact this already challenging task?

Also while I really like the name Camosun Productions for a variety of reasons. I am concerned that it is too close to Camosun College. And while using my name would be simple, I don't want to do that either.

As I tried to think up other names, checking them with 'Our Lord and Saviour' Google, I found that most of my ideas are already taken including "Big Tree Productions," which I thought was one of the less obvious ones.

So here is my list:

ALREADY TAKEN:

Endurance Productions – (USA/Korea)
    - This is a reference to Disce Pati - Learn to Endure, which I have branded on my wrist as a tattoo.
Grey Sky Productions – (New Jersey)
    - Whose skies are greyer? Vancouver or New Jersey?
Meaningless Productions – (youtube)
    - Ecclesiastes baby! oh well... its also kinda negative... especially if I want to shoot wedding videos.
Sound and Fury Productions – (somewhere)
    - Macbeth reference via Slings and Arrows

Dunbar Productions – (here)
Big Tree Productions - (somewhere)
Why Not Productions – (France)

Typewriter Productions - (USA)

KINDA ALREADY TAKEN:
Stump Productions – Greg Stump Productions exists and dominates Google
Applehill Productions – Apple Hill Productions Inc. exists with a bad website... (New Brunswick)
    - The street I grew up on...
Sleepy Tree Productions – Sleeping Tree Productions exists in San Francisco
    - There is a tree that is lying down in a park near Lacarno. Its picture is currently at the beginning of Rise and Fall.

Camosun Productions – Possibly too close to Camosun College (Victoria)
14th Avenue Productions - 14th Street Productions already exists...

NOT TAKEN:
Broken Laughter Productions - This feels old... I have moved on.
Blue Sock Productions - I like this one but it's kind of weird...
Disce Pati Productions – Already part of my email and tattooed on my body and related to my name... BUT I don't like the way it sounds!
Baby Beard Productions - In desperation for the unique, the weird becomes more prominent (this might become a blog post). Also this is a reference to my first video in film school Candy.

OTHER:
Smoke, Mirrors and Cigarette Productions - Not great for weddings and I would need permission...

I am open to votes, thoughts, advice and ideas...

Three Paragraphs from the News

"Tehran is the main regional ally of Assad's regime, advocating dialogue between the government and opposition.

According to IRNA, Salehi called for "an immediate end ... to foreign interference and arms shipments ... to Syria and the support of some regional and international parties for terrorist action".

"The Islamic Republic of Iran condemns all violence and destructive action and believes that dialogue is the only solution to end the Syrian crisis," the minister said.

Meanwhile, the White House said Wednesday that President Bashar al-Assad was losing control of Syria, after a deadly attack on his inner circle, and that the United States was working urgently with international partners to push for a political transition there."

From: http://www.aljazeera.com/news/middleeast/2012/07/2012718141115371857.html

I thought they were very interesting. Who is advocating for dialogue, who is for arms, who is for violence? It once again made me ponder my ethnocentric perspective.

Where in the world…

 Am I?

This is the question I have continued to ask myself over the past few weeks. Not in some profound philosophical way (although that is always a good thing to question) but more so in a very physical sense. Many a blog might have been written about my journeys, but I have been pressed for time, so I find myself summarizing a few of the notable moments in these exploits.

It began a month ago. A weekend trip to Whistler, with a twofold purpose: one, to ride bikes; and two, to take my brother in for knee surgery. (The surgery went well, thanks for your mental concern). The bikes were also great, even though I needed a friend, Rabbit, at a shop to help me keep my noble steed running.

One moment, however, will stick with me far longer than the plethora of exciting and adrenaline producing moments the bike park offered. It occurred on the chairlift. I was regaling, to my brother, the story of the changes we were about to make to the blog. Whether he found them as exciting as I did, I am not sure. Nevertheless, he engaged me and we were in the full rundown of new authors, a new layout, and new sections. At about that time, I told a story about Greg challenging my peer group about jokes with misogynistic traits, specifically one of my favourites – “Stop being a little girl!” (I know sexist and ageist, I ought to be ashamed). As the story ended, the other person on the chairlift piped up (he had joined us from the singles line).

“What is your blog about?” Up until this point, I had not spoken of content. So, I proceeded to tell him about the blog’s content, how it originated, and some of the topics we had covered of late. He seemed genuinely interested, even though faith, politics, and justice are not common chairlift-ride conversations. He disclosed that he was American, beginning to question some things, think about others, and open himself up to new perspectives. He said he was genuinely ashamed of his country, the country that should stand for liberty, but now has no relation to the idea behind the word. So with that short conversation our chairlift-ride was over. But before he rode off for another lap of speed, turns, and multiple airs he made sure to get the name of the blog. He said he would like to read it, and as he rode off, I saw him repeating it repeatedly. Thus ended our interaction, but the event has stuck with me.

A week later. I am in Whiterock, hanging out with some friends and meeting new ones. Whiterock does not hold another tale, but it spawned a spontaneous trip to the Calgary Stampede. So before I knew it (well really it was almost two weeks later), four people piled into my little car and drove east. Friday night we left, Sunday we returned, and Saturday we Stampeded! We spent approximately three more hours in Calgary then we did on the road, but it was the road that left me pondering.

Leaving the west coast at 6pm on a summer evening, traveling through the night for 10-11 hours, places one at the edge of the Rocky Mountains for daybreak. With little or no sleep, we burst out of the burdensome mountains onto the great plain at dawn. As my eyes began to accept the newfound light, I bore witness to mists rising from the fields, steam wafting off ponds and sloughs, and the delicate light greens of early summer.  The windows kept the chill of the 5-degree air outside and the sky opened itself as a boundless dome. I was nearing home.

Big sky, it turns out, I really do miss it. The west coast certainly holds a piece of my heart, but nothing can wrangle the sky out of my soul. As I drove the last 100 km to my old stomping grounds I was left speechless, which I assume was appreciated by my dozing passengers. I found a new a sense of awe, a knowledge of finiteness, and the calming certainty that I am very small. These sensations elude me more often in the lower-mainland. The low-hung cloud repels upward gazes, and the valley strangles the spirit that roams. Often I find myself head down, closed in, consumed by my myopic self; resulting in a small world that moves from work to a huddled corner of my apartment. Alberta, and its big boundless sky, offered the freedom of space. The road finishes with a large hill, and as I drove up it, the gain in elevation sped up the rising of the sun, thereby showing all of sunrise in under two minutes – simply splendid.

West coast for a week, but the time was meant to pass. As I write this, I am in Manhattan, New York. What brings me here? Opportunity. What am I doing? Keep your eyes open for future blogs. How long am I here? Five weeks. First impression? I’m glad you asked.

This being my third time to New York I thought I knew what to expect, but circumstances and perspectives change. As I braved one of the two most uncomfortable times I will have (coming and going on the subway with suitcase in tow). I was floored by the sheer volume of people. People, more people, and even more people. What do they all do? Where do they all go? Once again, small city Abbotsford shields my eyes from the daily, insect like, movements of millions of people. We are a weird species: we congregate in hives, we transport our food and ourselves, visibly there is no order or hierarchy, and for the vast amount of time we coexist as isolated and non-communicative individuals. But under the seeming chaos, is a network of social systems, values, and contracts that allow such coexistence.

New York is large. The towers are tall. The people are many. It is here I find a common humanity. Though distracted by our modern-day, and incredibly impressive, ziggurats; our daunting and seemingly impenetrable systems of class; and our remarkable feats of dominance; one can glimpse the unmistakable wonder that is civilization. A contemplative posture yields a view of civilization grounded upon an incredibly connected and social creature. Homo-sapiens are quite something.

Un-expectantly personal, boundless transcendence, and dauntingly social. Three destinations, three experiences. Where in the world are you?

6 Weeks: Part 1

So it's time for me to break the ice and write my first post. Let me start out by referencing something my roommate said to me today. He kindly pointed out that in just over 6 weeks from now, I will no longer be his roommate.

I am extremely excited!

You see, in six weeks I'll be packing up my belongings and moving to a city that is unfamiliar to me in order to continue my pursuit of an undergraduate degree. I've enrolled at University of Victoria where I hope to finish my degree in Political Science while pursuing a minor in Social Justice Studies.

It's not that I won't miss this place. I agonize over the idea of leaving this city prematurely. I feel as though I've just come to a place where I can start calling Vancouver home. I have a lovely community here who continue to teach me so much about the world, I live in the best house with the most amazing people, and I feel as if I've only begun to explore this place that I call home. But man, is it ever exciting to leave.

I've been putting off school for far too long now. When I finished my spring semester at community college and got a job in fundraising, it was only supposed to last the summer. I'm now in my second summer at this job and although I love the clients I work for and the people I work with, I need out of this job. It alone has been the biggest stress of my life as I have moved up and down that corporate ladder disguised as a tree full of hippies and good ideals. Not to mention the fact that a 40 hour work weeks get monotonous, stale, and utterly exhausting. Maybe I'm in the wrong job but at least in school my entire schedule changes every four months and with each change comes a change in focus.

I'm also very excited for a fresh start. I've been through a lot over the past few years and each time my life is faced with crisis, I've felt the urge to leave and start over somewhere new. I've done this in the past, it's how I ended up in BC in the first place. A combination of stagnancy, heart break, and wanderlust drew me to the west coast and it was here that I discovered new adventures, friends, and a whole wealth of knowledge and understanding of myself. I feel as though I've come to that place again. Victoria will be a chance for me to start afresh, meet new people, experience new things, and discover a whole lot more about myself and the world I live in.

How is this not one of the most exciting moments of my life?

Part 2 comes soon.

Baby names...

My name is Duncan Ris (pronounced like kiss).

From a young age I discovered that certain names combine with my last name to create great hilarity and possible embarrassment if such person came into existence.

I had the opportunity to "help" a friend at the SFU radio station. I introduced myself on the radio as "Danger" because my full name would become Danger Ris. Awesome.

I also realized that it would be problematic to marry a girl named Tara. Her name would become:
Tara Ris.

Since Amy and I have been married nearly 5 years, we have discussed baby names on a variety of occasions. She was very disappointed to cross the name Mattias off of our list as it would become:

Matt Ris.

Amy: I know that it's a "thing" for some parents to name their children in the place they were conceived but I just thought that would be a little too far...

Other great names we have thought of are the following:

Greg Gary
Dexter
Misty
Addi
Kalama
Bonaventure
Polly Amour
Walter (shortened to Wal)

Jennifer (shortened to Jenn) 

Louis Richard (shortened to Lou Dick)

Kant (after Immanuel Kant)* Anka (after Paul Anka)

(*this has the added bonus of refuting my family's great thrill in telling my sister and I, as children, that "'can't' was dead" and therefore we could and had to do whatever it was they were requiring of us.)

Any additions to the list for possible review?
Favourites?

What do you want to be when you grow up?

Now that I've arrived at the end of an undergrad degree from UBC, I think I want to be a farmer.

I put together this 10-minute podcast for a final project in my last semester of university, explaining a bit about why I think being a farmer would be a good way to spend my time.

I hope you enjoy the story.

Happy Birthday!

A literal blank page is before me as I first typed this post on my typewriter.  A blank page is kind of a metaphor for where I am at in life, too, perhaps.  So, I turn to my "Pocket Muse" book which provides ideas for writing (or life??).  Today's suggestion?  "Write about finally giving in."  What about finally giving up?  I have been learning a lot about myself in the recent months and in a sense, I am giving up on a few things in my life.  I feel like the experience is like being birthed: disorienting, terrifying, but also liberating.  This birthing is propelling me forward into a new kind of life, really.  Perhaps it will also parallel a life of infancy (continuing with the birthing metaphor) - where I don't understand the language and I struggle to make my body move in ways that will actually get me places.  But slowly, surely, I will get my footing and, stumbling, I will learn to walk and talk with increasing confidence.
I am curious to hear your stories where you have felt like you were coming out of a tight place (I can keep on going with this one...) and emerging (hopefully successfully) into a new and exciting world.  Happy birthday to me and to you!