The Artrepreneur

Sunday, June 3, 2018

KNOT 4 PROPHET

By Michael M Clements

Open your mind and take this journey with me for a minute. I believe, like many artists, that when an
artist creates, especially extemporaneously, they are channeling into an unknown place and time and connecting with a part of the time space continuum that we, as humans, have yet to fully understand.

It’s a place where time is not linear; where clues, frequencies and vibrations from present, past and future exist as one in a nebulous caldron of ideas, thoughts and happenings which have all been released from our linear concept of time and thus exist as one, at the same point in non-time, like a living dream.

I know this from experience. About 20-25 years ago, I had a stretch where I did a lot of extemporaneous drawings mostly on paper with pen, marker, oil crayon, highlighter and whatever else I had laying around. I had no training. This wasn’t for any reason or exhibition. In fact, I didn’t even know I was an artist them. I would just draw because I felt like I had to. It was before I worked in canvas and paints.

Today it’s considered Outsider art. What it lacked in technicality it made up for in proficient prophecy. Over the years, the works have revealed themselves to be rather prophetic foretelling and producing images and scenarios that eventually came to pass, and many still to come I believe. In a Nostradamian way, they are cryptic and open for interpretation; but the connection to current events can not be denied. I knew none of this when I created them; at the time, I was merely channeling and tapping into this intangible cosmic universal mind (our better yet, “cloud”) to cull references and elusions from the ether.

Finally, after (a few) decades, I’ve curated the images for an exhibition entitled “Knot 4 Prophet.” These are six of set of 50 .... now, if I could just decide on a time in the future ...?

1. SWAN SONG, circ. 1996

Then... A blonde haired man, large—a centerpiece—looks solemnly on. His swan song is silenced by a vagina. A bee, i.e., "a sting," next to a web (of deception?). And a lot of disparate lines and images create a frenetic and disjointed information pattern. Wait, is that a ... cheese grater?

What’s come to pass... Well, hello Donald Trump. This tells your future when you are inevitably silenced after your final swan song.

Today’s themes... #trump #metoo #timesup #sting #web #swansong

2. HE TALKS ABOUT NOTHING, 4 IN A ROW, 1994

Then... A political themed piece. Voters line up to a ballot box but a monkey pulls the strings. Meanwhile an authoritarian clad figure emerges from a dump truck called “friend” devouring all he can in an endless buffet called “Eat for Free.” A bullet pierces the US flag emblazoned with the word “Vote.” Words like “He talks about nothing,” “That’s questionable,” “Mansion,” “Hawaii,” “Its’ too old and difficult to maintain,” “Spacious and elegant.”

What’s come to pass... The monkey is Putin. He pulls the strings to the election resulting in an authoritarian leader that is devouring our state’s riches. Its all about the vote.

Today’s themes... #russianbots #electionmeddling #nra #gunculture #authoritarianism #trumpism #corporategreed #votersuppression #democracy #uselections #fairelections

3. THE GREAT FLOOD, 2003

Then... This is the new China: government control and economic growth in a constant struggle against environmental breakdown and the great flood of information. A damn breaks and water floods the countryside. A man with a wall around his head stands with a keyboard in his hand; a PLA soldier stands next to him outwardly firm, yet inwardly conflicted. Forcing his weapon down is a women dressed in a Buddhist robe; she rips though the painting to remind us all that the ecological clock is ticking. The lush mountains of the idyllic China countryside are just a façade; behind them reality – strings of gray industrial centers covered in toxic air and POAD signs.

What’s come to pass... Remember this image was before the great internet wall of China was in full effect. I’d say, this represents China today— the battle between gov to censor its people. The fight for Tibet / spiritualism. One interesting note is that its the female embodiment of Buddhism that is pushing the central figure’s—representing the Chinese Communist party—gun down. Effectively disarming it. That, has yet to come to pass.

Today’s themes... #china #statecensorship #digitalprivacy #riseofchina #chinesepollution

4. VOTE FREEDOM / THE FLAG IS BURNING, 1993

Then...A comment on America’s use of force to solve international issues. The flag is burning – the flag of freedom, the flag of culture, the flag of our global community. Between a stylized U.S. & Chinese flag and the outline of Africa lies a highway, representing the technological divide between the have and have-nots. In the centre, a warship and jet cascade carry bombs and freedom. To the right, a characterized Middle-eastern man has shot himself in the hand; he sits on top of the pillars of “oil,” “wood” and “food.”

What’s come to pass... This is more tied to Obama and the foreshadowing America’s first African American president. Words like “culture,” “society” and the use of a highway dividing the art work. I also, now see that the flag looks like a combination of US, Chinese and Confederate flag. There is a hand grabbing a pipe. Legalization? All the military references are as poignant 25 years later as they were then.

Today’s themes... #obama #usmilitary #suburbia #middleeastturmoil #naturalresources

5.TECHNOLOGY TOO BIG, 1998

Then... An eerie premonition of both the events of 9/11 as well as the ongoing rise of AI. This was before smartphones. Before AI. Before google, facebook, etc; before the concept of the singularity. Originally meant to be a comment on the pace of technology and it affect on culture. A train barrels through a tunnel. In its headlights, two humans that look like germs. There is a piano with music being uploaded to a human brian. A human head on a computer chip. In the top right, a helicopter over a burning metropolitan sky line of New York and a man holding a gun in one hand and a bird of peace in the other...

What’s come to pass...with the burning sky line of New York and a man holding a gun in one hand and a bird of peace in the other… the piece has taken on a new dimension following 911, essentially its a prediction of 911 14 years early. But, this piece reverberates today. Technology continues to barrel forward. And AI is taking over. Eventually our brains and the computer chip as one—indeed this piece sees “the singularity.” This piece sees it all and more.

Today’s themes... #911 #AI #computertakeover #thesingularity #technology #futurism #brainchips


6. BOY IN THE BALLOON, 2002; Artist, Michael M. Clements; Mixed media on paper, 8.5x11. Image by Genki Media® LLC. All rights reserved, 2018.

6. BOY IN THE BALLOON, 2002

Then... A man reads a book, it resembles a bible, he holds a large peach balloon. Within that, a boy holds a red balloon, beside him, a cuckoo clock. Around them, hectic scenes of movement and modernity: An apartment building blasts to the sky, dinner falls from an upside down table, sharks circle an electric plug connected to a mouse. The man holds a needle – does he intend to pop his balloon or dive into the modern world? The man about to pop it all is reading a religious textbook.

What’s come to pass... A couple things. First the upside down table has a stock chart on it. This foreshadowed the stock market meltdown on 2008. Sharks in the water. Electricity in the water. All dangerous. Lethal. The peach, the ballon, they are both bubbles about to be burst. The biggest future shout out is the rocket. Humanity taking to space to live. The man about to pop it all is reading a religious textbook. How about the religious counteraction to all of this? The entire bubble bursting is being influenced while the man read scripture.

Today’s themes... #stockcrash #stockmarketbubble #spaceexploration #humansinspace #religionandtechnology

AND A FEW MORE YOU CAN TRY AND FIGURE OUT ....

Monday, April 6, 2015

Startupverse - The Board Game For Entrepreneurs

Go IPO! It's billionaire or bust in this ultimate game for business builders – Startupverse, The Board Game For Entrepreneurs. Some assembly required, drinks not included.

Concept by Michael M Clements. Illustration Alex Laney.

Sunday, September 7, 2014

Why Football Matters

For my father and I, football wasn't just a spectator sport, it was a bridge to communicate.

By Michael M Clements

The author (in B. Johnson Jersey) and his father Michael R Clements to left entering a Tampa Bay Buccaneers football game Nov 25th, 2012. (Photo credit: Michael M Clements)

As NFL opening day approached this year a lot of conversation revolved around negative impacts of the sport. Specifically, impacts to the head, long-term health concerns for retired players, the overall disposal nature of the sport, domestic violence issues, drug suspensions and PEDs, etc. These are all important issues and deserve discussion; but today, on opening day, I wasn't thinking about any of those. In fact, I wasn't even thinking about if my team the Tampa Bay Buccaneers would win their opening game (okay, I was thinking about that a little, I admit it.) What was occupying my thoughts completely – and the force of whose appearance caught me as off-guard as a blind-sided QB – was my father, Michael R Clements, who unexpectedly passed away this past February.

You see, football was more than a sport for us, it was a bridge – a way for us to communicate as father to son, man to man. Growing up as a street-tough and fatherless kid in Jersey City, NJ, my dad didn’t do Oprah-esque heart-to-hearts about life and feelings in order to bond. Instead, we had football. A season ticket holder since the Bucs inaugural season in 1976, the games we attended and watched, along with the countless talks we had about wins, losses, plays and players, were our common bond, our great connector.

Most of my memories about my father revolve around football. His first love was baseball. I played soccer. Football was our only mutually-shared sporting bond. We both loved the Bucs. After moving to Florida in the early '70s my dad swore off his New York teams – although he always maintained a special hate in his heart for the Yankees. Growing up, he went to The New York Football Giants games at the Polo Grounds. But with his new sunny home, came new sunny loyalties. He enjoyed college football. During the falls, we would make the trek up I75 to Gainesville to watch the University of Florida Gators. I wound up attending Florida State University – their main rival. That contrarian nature was the main reason why, mostly, all we had in common were the Bucs. Our Gator-Seminole rivalry lasted our entire adult lives and became a source of annual bragging and cajoling. Each year, after the UF / FSU football game, the victor would invariably call the loser. Heckling ensued. I took great joy in making him listen to the FSU fight song. In years UF won, I dreaded answering the phone. I’m convinced when he made it to the pearly gates this year my dad protested to the attending angel, “Couldn’t you've taken me in year the Gators won the national championship? Or at least NOT the year FSU did?”

Thankfully, we had the Tampa Bay Buccaneers. Not that that was any easier. During the early years, from when the Bucs were 0 and 26 and Steve Spurrier was the QB to when chants of “Throw McKay in the Bay” echoed throughout the bare-cement pillars of the old Sombrero, being a Bucs fan was painful. I was pretty young then and we didn’t attended many games together. We did, however, watch away games at home. It was always a bit edgy watching the games with my dad. He would get overly animated, yell at the TV and do tons of gesticulating. Let's just say, I learned a lot of new vocabulary. When we'd score, we’d jump around and scream as a family, and give hugs and high 5s. It was awesome. I remember one time in the early '80s my dad jumped around so much he split his pants. Seriously.

Attending the games was a visceral experience – the cheering, the yelling, the exaltation, the verbal and sometimes nearly physical confrontations. Back in the days of the former Tampa Stadium, aka, "The Big Sombrero," when the Bucs were in the NFC Norris Division, the beer flowed freely, shirts were optional, and you could invariably catch the wafting scent of marijuana at least once a game. This was the unsanitized NFL before billion dollar stadiums, jumbotrons and cell phones and apps that brought you custom catering in gluten free hotdog roll. The only entertainment around were annoying handheld two-way AM radios people brought to hear the radio cast and, well, we actually talked to each other. Back then more Bears and Packers fans would be at the games than Bucs fans, which lead to a lot of, ehm, cross cultural exchanges. I learned even more new vocabulary at the games than at home. It was also the only time I ever caught glimpses of my dad’s scrappy Jersey City side. When things got dicey but my dad kept us safe. But, mainly, we supported our team and had a blast.

The old Tampa Bay Stadium, aka, "The Big Sombrero". (Photo credit: St. Pete Times)

My father was a creature of habit. He always left at the same time, walked to the stadium the same way, entered through the same gate, and arrived early enough to watch pre-game warm-ups. He even drove the same way and parked in the same lot – a yard someone had turned into makeshift parking lot to make a few extra dollars during the season. The gentleman collecting the money knew us. We were regulars. Year after year, we’d park there and he’d greet us with the same enthusiastic salutation each opening day, “This is the year, Mike, this is the year.” The old Tampa stadium had bleacher seats without backs, so we had to carry our own portable seats. Something unthinkable today. My dad had a beer or two but never too many. We’d sit in the Florida sun, baking. I used to melt ice cubes on my thighs to stay cool. We’d always have seats behind the opposing team’s bench. By the '90s we moved to the 48-yard line, about 10 rows up. You could really feel the games there. On the drives to the game, we listened to the pre-game AM radio show and discussed outcomes and strategy. It was always animated. We talked the most then. We were excited. Ready to win. During the games, we played arm chair quarterback and cheered or jeered our team. Afterwards, on the ride home, we either talked excitedly if we won or listened quietly to the post-game broadcast if we lost.

Once I moved out and went college, graduated and got my own place, I only attended one or two games a year when I came back to Florida, usually during the holidays. But, we spoke almost weekly. Without fail our conversation started with the Bucs. "Who did they draft?" "Why did the QB make that stupid throw?" "Why didn’t the ref call that penalty?" "Should they fire the coach?" And so on and so on it went. By the late ‘90s, after two decades of futility, the Bucs became good. As a family we all enjoyed the winning. The team had a new stadium, new uniforms, a new song, and they were winning. The games were most enjoyable then. No more were we minorities to obnoxious Eagles, Packers or Bears fans. Bucs fans ruled! I was old enough to have beers with my dad. After games we won, we'd get wings and bask in victory surrounded by other fans. We had Warren Sapp, Derrick Brooks and Warrick Dunn. The Bucs were finally winners. Ah, the salad years.

By 2000, I had moved overseas. I was living in Hong Kong the year the Bucs won the Super Bowl. During the NFC championship game that year, there was no place in Hong Kong to watch the game, so I loaded up on calling cards and had my dad put the phone up to the TV so I could hear the play-by-play. During commercials, he went into detail, just like how we used driving to the games. After they won the NFC Championship – sorry, Eagles fans – my parents bought a plane ticket to San Diego without a ticket to the Super Bowl in the hope that they could scalp two. They succeeded and watched in person as the Bucs ascended to Super Bowl champions. No doubt that was one of the highlights of my dad’s life. The lead-up to that helped bridge the gap between me being overseas and not being closer to home.

As I grew from a seven year-old to a married man in my '40s, there was one constant between my father and I – the sharing of the NFL season. When he passed away at the age of 70 this year, I had the unenviable task of sorting through his life's belongings. I’m sure it’s been said before, but, one of the ironic tragedies of the death is that you only fully get to know somebody after they're gone. My dad kept important mementos from his life. He wasn’t a hoarder by any stretch – they all fit neatly into a file cabinet and a few dresser drawers. But in there I found a treasure trove of sports memorabilia. It was like opening a time capsule from our past together. For example, before each new season, my mom, dad and I would predict the Bucs seasons' wins and losses totals. My dad would put his on the season schedule he received with his season ticket package. I found a stack from 1976 to 2004. Each one had his prediction meticulously marked next to each game, “W” or “L”. Many had his season’s final tally added up. Some had my picks. Important games had asterisks. He kept the majority of his ticket stubs too. I went through them all of them and carefully placed each into a plastic photographic book. As I did, I flash-backed to the games we attended.

My dad was a banker and an amazingly caring and loving father but he could also be uptight. Seeing the tickets reminded me how he would hold them until we were just about enter the stadium. He looked me in the eye, “Don’t lose it,” he'd say as he handed me my ticket. I would huff back, “You mean lose it in the next five feet I before I hand it to the ticket taker?” My father and I were like vinegar and oil. He was the banker, the pragmatist, the punctual planner. I was the artist, the improvisationalist, the “figure it out as you go” creative type. But we had the Bucs.

I always yearned to hold the game tickets all the way from home to the stadium. I recalled this feeling painfully this year as my father flew back from DC to Florida feeling ill. He had planned to visit DC for five days to meet my new son and his grandson for the first time, but on day three, he said he wasn’t feeling well and asked to go home. I bought his ticket, brought him to the airport, checked his bags, checked him in, and escorted him to security where I handed him his plane tickets. It was the only time he I ever handled the tickets. It was the last time I ever saw him. He flew home and passed away that same day.

My father kept almost all of his Tampa Bay Buccaneers memorabilia, including this program from the teams' first pre-season game ever and team posters sent to season tickets holders. (Photo credit: Michael M Clements)

As I continued to go through my father's life keepsakes, I found an amazing array of sports memorabilia – including a number of Bucs team posters from their first decades, programs of the first Bucs games, countless newspapers and magazines documenting big wins and every conceivable print story he could get his hands on about their Super Bowl victory. I found stacks of ticket stubs – ones even from the Polo Grounds – pins, hats, parking passes, letters to season ticket holders, commemorative paper weights and autographed photos and cards, just to name a few. I would say the more than 50% of everything my father kept was dedicated to the sporting events he attended and loved. Sports meant that much to him.

He had an encyclopedic memory of sporting events. One time, at at a party in DC about three years ago, I found my father cornered by a man around my age, who was equally erudite about random sports facts. He’d ask my dad, “So, you were at the BLAH BLAH championship game in 1950-something?” And my dad would say, “Yeah, so and so threw two touchdowns to so and so that day.” Sports junkies loved my dad for that. I never got into sports history that way. Perhaps that's a baseball thing. He loved the detailed nature and history of baseball. He was a big Tampa Bay Rays fan, and later in life, as my nephew Steven Daniel grew up, my father shared his love for the Tampa Bay Rays with Steven just as we shared the Bucs. For Steven and “Pop-pop,” baseball became their connection, their bridge.

One of the last football games my father and I attended was in November 2012 and Steven was there. I remember thinking how special it was to have three generations there. My dad had slowed down a lot by then. His leg had been giving him trouble and he limped slightly and walked gingerly. It sadden me to see that. We got there early. He parked in his usual spot. It was a beautiful sunny Florida day. The three of us made it to our seats, bought some beers and hot dogs (mustard only, no ketchup) and watched as the Atlanta Falcons beat the Bucs pretty soundly. But by then the games weren’t about winning or losing, they were about spending time together. The connection had transcended the game.

At the November 25 2012 home game vs the Atlanta Falcons with my father and nephew. (Photo credit: Michael M Clements)

Speaking of gut wrenching loses, the Bucs lost their opening season game today. It was an awful start to the season; yet, one I’ve witnessed many times before. Somewhere my father was looking down mumbling, “Same ole Bucs.” That was a familiar rallying cry for us throughout the years. You can’t be a lifelong Bucs fan without being able to absorb disappointment and heartache. “Same old Bucs,” became a simple and succinct mantra which acknowledged another loss without having to expend too much emotional energy. I always dreaded those long silent car rides home to Clearwater over the Courtney Campbell Causeway after a loss. Not because my dad was angry, or because we lost, but because, I knew that our time together would soon be over. Shortly, we’d be back home and into our typical father-son routine. Not a bad thing, but never as good as being at the game. The farther we got from the stadium, the farther we traveled from our comfort zone.

I was surprised how emotional opening day felt. I did not intend to pen this when I woke up today. Football after all is just a game. And one, as noted earlier, that comes with a lot of societal and cultural baggage. But I could not ignore the importance it played in my relationship with my father. Today was both my first opening NFL day without my father and my first as a father. Bittersweet indeed. How I wished Pop-pop was with my son and I, watching on sofa. I’m not sure I’ll have the same football connection with my son. Lord help me if he becomes a Washington fan. It seems these days the corporate nature of the NFL experience as well as the price of entry is a bit different. I can’t imagine having season tickets for any NFL team for 40 years. My hope is that my son and I have a common experience which connects. For my father and I, that connection was the Tampa Bay Buccaneers and that’s why, in my humble opinion, football matters.

Wednesday, May 22, 2013

What Makes A Tech Company, A Tech Company?

Tech is sexy these days; tech companies, even sexier. Nothing gets the MBA rock-star juices pulsing through the cortex and loins faster than handing over a geektastic looking business card and saying "Hi, I'm so and so, the founder of tech start-up [enter techie name here]." Cue Beat.ly mania!

But, lately I've been thinking, what exactly is a tech company? And what makes them so… techie? Afterall, the word tech comes from the word "technology." And last I checked, humans have been using technology to innovate and advance the human condition since man decided to sharpen rocks.

Great moments in tech company history ... The film:

WORKING TITLE: "O.G. – Original Geek"

FADE IN

Man A, not the strongest of the clan, but clever, finds sharp rock, ties to long stick using roots, kills now-extinct large animal.

Woman A swoons: "Oh, he's so smart … and has great hair!"

Man B, Alpha male type, seething, grunts: "Geek."

The first Lawyer: "You should patent that."

Artist: "Can I have my rock back now? I need to finish the cave painting before dark."

The O.G. "Original Geek." (An artist's rendition of a Paleoindian man making a stone tool. Illustration by Colin Campbell.)

What makes tech... tech?

This question of what makes one company a tech company has been on my mind since my company ArtJamz was accepted to be part of tech incubator 1776 in Washington DC. I have to say, we are excited to be part of it. I didn't think we'd get chosen. We faced an uphill battle. We are definitelty the only business with a retail location. Brick and mortar does not exactly scream "tech company" these days. That's reinforced when I go to tech events or tech pitch competitions. I'm continually amazed and impressed by the eco-system of ideas floating in the digital entrepreneurial community these days. But, I also think that "tech" companies, you know, can become victims of the misappropriation of the term technology to describe what they do. It's as if "Tech" has come to simply imply… developer. Although, it's true, at the end of the day, this is what people mean when they throw around the term "tech company" – there is person, somewhere, anywhere, churning out code. Meanwhile, there's an "they are NOT techy" ideas person coming up with a fabulously acceptable geeky techy name, logo, font and app icon -- that unsurprisingly looks somewhat rounded and three dimensional. This tech company is all about the concept -- which mind you, is a good one and fills a market need -- being transposed into the digital. Hopefully with the help of angel investors.

The slippery slope in all of this is the tres modern belief that "tech companies" do and should soely exist in the digital world. Of course, yes, many do, and that's cool. This isn't a black or white thing. Facebook, twitter, drop box, and lots of other "tech companies" live in the digital world. But some of the most successful quote on quote tech companies live in the digital and physical. Zappos, amazon, Apple and Google for instance. Waz started off building shit in a garage. He tinkered. Steve Jobs always combined art, tech and design. Jobs didn't start off saying, I think I'll revolutionize the retail experience. But Apple stores did. That's not something an algorhytm can do. And developers don't build smartphones or google glasses, they make the software that runs in them. So, wait, if you make a physical product, you are not a tech company anymore? Was IBM a tech company when they started making computers? Or not?

Science becomes Tech

Somewhere between Bell and Howell, NASA, IBM, Microsoft and Apple, science became tech. Perhaps it was when science jumped from the lab into consumerism. It's all a bit like the need for musical genres. Humans must have order. We categorize everything. Lord help us if there is an undiscovered ant species somewhere in the jungle and it doesn't have a classification yet! Same with that new band that plays that new kind of music, with that strange new combination of instruments, and beats, and that singer, wow, no one has ever done that before. Jesus! We need to find a genre for them fast. Is it Alt Punk Electronica? Yes, Alt Punk Electronic. That's it. Phew. Thank God. They have a genre. Thus with tech. I mean we created an entire stock market NASDQ for all these tech companies. Was general electric a tech company? Edison a geek? When the phonograph came out no one called it a gadget? Did they? And those Native Americans who first used smoke signals. Ahh, weren't they the first vanguard? The early adopters. And the person who first took flint to rock to create a spark -- the original CTO.

I hate to break it to you app.ly and techarooroo and gadget-a-go-go, you are not a tech company. You are simply … human. One in a long and amazing line of many who put creative thought and visualization into action to create innovation that became the technology humans use to advance our condition. You don't own the term "tech" anymore than Copernicus.

If anything, companies built in the digital realm need a foot in the physical world. And those companies built in the physical world, i.e. ArtJamz need a foot in the digital. This is why I wanted Artjamz to be a part of 1776. Brick and mortar companies are built on the backbone of systems. In fact, all of the worlds most successful businesses are successful because of their processes as well as their product and ability to reach scale. The back-end franchise process of ArtJamz as well as the digital intersection of the brand and the consumers -- in our case, reservations, POS, inventory, apps, staff scheduling -- everything is a constant "tech start-up" by the modern geeky techy definition. We are inventing and developing -- using developers who code and master algorhytms -- to create new digital systems and applications. And we're applying those to how consumers interact with art, and art materials, and artists themselves, in a brick and mortar environment. Just like the intersection of tech gadgets and retail stores -- all tech must eventually connect to the physical world. Digital enhances the physical. And visa versa.

The Lounge Level at the ArtJamz Dupont Studio in Washington DC. Very brick and mortar; not so techie ... at least in outward appearance.

When the physical and digital meet

With all this in mind, I do have to commend the team at 1776 and others in DC tech start-up industry for being open minded about letting our old school get-your-hands-dirty-playing-with-paint-in-a, gasp, retail-location-business, join the ranks of the digital start-up community. Where else better than to test a digital concept or application or Saas than with a physical location and consumer facing brand and experience? Ultimatlely, everything is an experience that trickles down to the physical relm. My belief is that, the biggest impact, and the potential for the most transformative, distpruptive, positive and successful innovations come when tech is considered in both its modern and historic context, ergo, when it blends the physical with the digital. In art in particular, which is where I'm focusing my entrepreneurial pursuits, the scale has been tipped in favor of the physical for too long. Conversely, those in the digital world of apps and gaming etc, tend to steer clear of the art world because of its deep physical roots. Once we blend the tactile and physical world of art with the power of digital technologies, that is when the next great disruptive art paradigm will emerge. And when it does, it should be considered a tech company, just like all other companies that came before it. For without technology, and the geek in all of us, we would still be playing with dull rocks.

Wednesday, April 10, 2013

Do You Need An Adversary to Succeed?

The other night I was having drinks with a friend who has started a thriving business in DC. Our conversation meandered touching upon business and just general catch-up. But somewhere in the middle they asked me, "Do you have an adversary?" I kind of brushed it off but the question has stuck with me since. "Do I?" And if I do, who is it and what purpose do they serve?

My friend likes having an adversary. In fact, in round about terms, they not only like to have one, they like to crush and destroy them. They take joy and delight in seeing a competitor fail and fall by the way side. Perhaps this is their secret motivator. Who knows. It's certainly working for them.

It does make sense, some of the best work in history has been produced by competing rivals who peak at the same time and push each other to new heights. Borg and McEnroe. Frasier and Ali. Google and Apple. Apple and Samsung. Stars Wars vs Star Trek. The entire super hero film and comic book industrial complex. Obama va Boehner, and so on and so on. We live in a world of rivalry. Arch-rivals in fact. Two of my favorite artists, Warhol and Basquiat mockingly played up the whole rivalry concept as only artists could in a show they did together during the height of the '80s New York pop-art explosion.

Otherwise known as the “Fire Vs. Ice”, the Bjorn Borg and John McEnroe rivalry consists of a total of 14 matches through the careers of these two athletes.

So I thought about it. Yes. ArtJamz definitely has rivals. When my friend asked me who my biggest rival was, I said LivingSocial. How could they not be? They are a half billion dollar VC-funded 800 pound gorilla with millions of dollars of city tax breaks that decided to replicate our business model and do painting and sipping classes. Did LivingSocial's move into our area cause some consternation? Sure. Did I send out a biting press release the same day they launched their competing product? Sure did. Did I talk shit about them with my friends? Guilty. But, aren't there 5 or 6 other paint and sip businesses that have popped up since we started? Yes, there are. Aren't they also also rivals? And what about that person, and that blogger, and that vendor, and so on and so on. You see, having a rival can be a slippery slope. Emotion can be a motivator, but it can also be a hinderance.

The drive to destroy your competition at all costs! is ultimately wrought in anger and negativity. An entrepreneur should be motivated by creating the best possible product, business or service possible. They should be injected with the adrenaline rush of ownership by the over-powering need to create something amazing and profitable, not by reveling in the havoc of an adversary. They should be driven to engage their audience or customer better each day, providing them with something they haven't experienced before, not be obsessed with what their competition is doing. Business owners should get out of bed in the morning wanting to create a better place for the staff that depend on them -- not devising Machiavellian plans for the competition's demise.


		Poster originally produced by Tony Shafrazi Gallery, New York and Bruno Bischofberger Gallery, Zurich in 1985. Advertising an exhibition of the paintings produced collaboratively by Andy Warhol (1928-87) and Jean Michel Basquiat (1960-88).

Don't get me wrong, I'm fiercely competitive. I played soccer my whole life, captain of the high school soccer team, etc. I could not stand losing. It hurt. Viscerally. When I'd lose, I wouldn't eat or talk to anyone for hours. I hated the teams that beat us. I still hate losing, but as I matured, I learned to channel my competitive fire. Like Tai Chi, I try to use the force of the punch from our opponent against them. Or like Bruce Lee said, "be like water."

In the case of LivingSocial -- I could have turned my feelings to hate, and sat there and stewed, or even threw in the towel. But instead, I turned the other cheek and looked on the bright side. In fact, I should probably write them a thank you letter. Business has boomed since they started doing all our marketing and promotion for us for free. Nothing like having your competitor send out millions of emails promoting the same business concept as yours, but then only be open a few hours a week to actually do it. It also provided the inertia for us to evolve our business model. As soon as LivingSocial started doing by-appointment only paint and sip classes, we changed from the same structured art class model to an open-7-days a week public art studio and lounge, where you can walk-in any time. I used the energy from their punch to morph into something they aren't. Which means that all those people who see a LivingSocial paint and sip invite and decide they want to go, but can't fit into the tightly scheduled windows provided -- or go and want to go again, but LivingSocial isn't running "a deal" -- they Yelp! or google "Paint and Sip", "Paint Party, or "Paint and Drink", what have you, and ArtJamz comes up, because we decided to take our battle to the SEO front. LivingSocial also undercut all our competitors, who had been living off daily deals, essentially, doing us a huge favor by marginalizing our competition. They also have lots of market research about what customers will pay to paint and drink, so when they set their price at $29, we added multiple options for customers that range from $22 to $40. Recently, we launched an ArtJamz Academy where we replicated their business model by offering crowdsourced art classes. So, you see, you can have a rival, but don't let negativity, anger or schadenfreude drive you. In the end, I wish LivingSocial well. I hope they create more jobs for the city. But the most satisfying and motivating thing you can do is stay two steps ahead of your competition by focusing on being the best you can be. Because the thing a rival fears the most, is a rival who has no fear.

Tuesday, April 2, 2013

5 Steps to Better Focus

An entrepreneur's perpetual to-do list can be daunting. In fact, you could probably spend an entire day just creating and prioritizing to-do lists. For me, this process manifests itself in the daily prioritization of tasks. In order to make sure that I spend as little time as possible deciding "what to do" instead of actually "doing," I've – through trial and error – developed a vetting process and come up with some guideposts to help me weed through the never-ending morass of tasks in order to bring it from its scarily overwhelming hypothetical state of "need to do" and into the wonderfully satisfying state of "done."

Sometimes your daily tasks can look as frenetic and disjointed as this communal painting that over 100 people contributed to over 3 hours at our ArtJamz Underground Studio opening in Crystal City. (Photo credit: ArtJamz, 2013)

WILL IT DRIVE REVENUE
One of the positives of bootstrapping / self-financing is that you don't have millions of dollars of angel or VC money to blow through – your choices are constrained and focused because of budgetary limitations. Of course, one of the negatives about bootstrapping / self-financing is also that you don't have millions of dollars of angel or VC money to blow through. This means that your decisions should be driven by the bottom line. Essentially, if I'm looking at 10 things to do, I ask myself "which project is going to lead to revenue generation the fastest?" Cash flow is king ... or queen. One draw back is that this question tends to get applied mostly to short-term operational must-haves, such as inventory and restocking of merchandise. For example, we serve wine at the studio and sell merchandise. If we run out of those, we don't make money selling wine and merchandise. So, the task "restock wine and merchandise inventory" fits squarely under the "will it drive revenue" filter and gets bumped up the "importance totem."

IS IT LUXURY OR NECESSITY?
I applied this mantra liberally during two recent build-outs of ArtJamz studios, but it applies to the daily operations of the business as well. Just ask yourself, is this something we "really need" or can we get by with our current system / situation? Yes, we needed a refrigerator for our wine. Could we use a $4,000 bar back refrigerator? Sure. Did we need one that expensive to get done what we needed to get done. Nope. We found a solution for $400 that works just fine. We could have easily spent $250K on the new ArtJamz studio build-out. We spent about $30K. People love it. We're doing just fine. Using the criteria, I have kicked a few large projects down the road a bit – one such project is the implementation of a new POS system. We need a new POS system, badly. One that is cloud-based and scalable across multiple franchises and enables us to operate like restaurant, with assigned tables, tabs, tipping, etc. etc. I found one I like. Took about a year of research. But it's very expensive and will take about two months to fully integrate with our staff as well as back-end accounting system. Our current POS – a $29 app – works just fine for now. We will eventually switch over in the next few months, but there were other "will it drive revenue" issues I decided to focus on first as I deemed the new POS as a "luxury" instead of a "necessity," which it will eventually become.

IS SOMETHING DUE?
If you're growing and expanding chances are you are spending a lot of money and you have multiple vendors to whom you owe money – inventory, legal, accounting, taxes, etc. etc. The list is never-ending. Obviously, if something is due, it gets put on the top of the to-do totem. Stay current. Stay in the green. Pay your bills and handle your responsibilities on time.

IS IT SOMETHING YOUR TEAM IS PINING FOR?
One of the many traps a business owner can fall into is retreating into hubris and amusing you know what's best for your business 24/7. In the case of ArtJamz, where we have a retail location that I'm not at 80% of the time, it's important to listen to your team who are in the trenches and operating the location and interacting with your brand and customers on a daily basis. When they come to you and say "We really need to XYZ." Listen to them. Evaluative. And then get it done and implemented.

WILL IT LAY THE SEEDS FOR FUTURE GROWTH?
The "will it drive revenue" question above tends to get hijacked by immediate short-term needs. But, an entrepreneur solely focused on the operations of the here and now will lose the big picture and slip when it comes to strategic thinking. Long term projects that create additional revenue streams also fit under the "will it drive revenue" question and shouldn't be drown out by immediate needs. I'm currently spending a lot of time building two new revenue generating initiatives: The ArtJamz Academy – an online crowdsourced art-class marketplace and our Artz Bazaar – a more digital way to sell art. Both will generate new revenue for us. I deemed the time, resources and investment needed to incubate and develop these additional revenue streams as crucial to our long-term survival. So, these projects get bumped up the important totem pole too.

Whatever system works for you is up to you. But don't get overwhelmed by your task list. Find a consistent way to evaluate what's important and then allocate a set and consistent amount of time each week getting them done. Trust me, all will get done if you keep chipping away at it. And remember, it won't get done in one day, so, for goodness sake, save time for having fun and kicking it with your loved ones and friends – this should always be at the top of the list!

Wednesday, March 27, 2013

The Orange Moment

Part of being an Artrepreneur is creating. And your art should not be constricted by time. Some of the best work you've done, might have been hidden for 10 or 20 years. Just keep creating. Someday, time will give it context. Recently, I've been rediscovering a lot of early writings on old discs. So I took the time to transfer them into the cloud. This includes a book of poems, photos and short stories several hundred pages long. Mostly from 1993 - 2005, my time in Atlanta, Japan, Hong Kong and LA. I was searching a lot then.

Here's an excerpt from the short story "Losing Hong Kong" which is part of the larger tone "Elementality: Water, Fire, Wind, Air."

The Orange Moment

By Michael M Clements

I'm losing Hong Kong, slowly but surely, like I did Japan, like I did my youth. It's a process; a natural process. Letting go never takes effort – unless you're talking about love. Instead, the releasing of places in your past – those blocks of time, when, when you were in them, seemed endless, periods that neither had ways out nor connections with events past. They were just "the moment." The current situation.

But I do remember the countryside in Japan. I lived in a town called Izumo; translated as "the place where the clouds come in." On most days, that's exactly what happened. The most orange day of my life happened in Izumo. Located on the West coast, mid-Honshu main island, Izumo is Japan's oldest settlement – quite a feat for one of the world's oldest cultures.

But each day in LA takes me away from all of that. Away from the past. Away from green rice fields and mountain-lined seas. Further away from the most orange day of my life, which happened in Izumo, Japan. I know, I already said that. They told me that in the fall, the winds pick up dust from the Huangzhou River in China. The dust finds its way across the East China Sea, Sea of Japan, or Sea of Korea, or whatever. It's no Spradley's, but still. The crappy yellow river dust flies over to the Western Coast of Japan causing these absurdly beautiful orange sunsets. One day in particular, ever so often, there is an extremely orange sunset. So deep in tangent red and Tangier orange that the world beneath lays bathed in a burning orange haze.

I was doing the dishes. This light, this warm, heart-numbingly pacifying light, embraced me. I had to go outside. I dropped what I was doing, darted outside and was hit with an epic dark orange, burning, cloud-layered sunset – which was happening over a large rice paddy next to my house. It was almost harvest time, so the rice was tall and green, but not tonight – tonight it was orange.

Sky on Fire, Izumo, Japan c.1997. By Michael M Clements with instant camera.

I sprinted back inside to grab my camera; the entire house was humming in the transcendental glow of sunset. The clichés rang true – time stood still, still stood the time, still the time stood, the still time stood, and so on and so forth. When I returned outside camera in hand, the sunset had nearly just past its most brilliant point. Nonetheless it was still awe-inspiringly magical. When things surprise us, catch us off guard – that is when life is most beautiful.

We are predisposed to account for the shift in the environment, thus predicating a reaction by said initial action. For every action there is a reaction, and for every reaction there is certainty for more action. Snap. Photo taken. Later this photo would come to represent my 3.5 years in Japan. A snapshot, a burning yellow-river induced orange sunset. But it is more, much more. But dig too far into the past and all you will find are picked over bones. The real nourishment of life is not in the past or future – it's in the moment. The orange moment. ~ Los Angeles c. 2004