Personality . Words such as a
sole ,
selfish , clearly repulsive character. But the meaning of the word
person is the true driving force that energizes your brand. You have to go deep inside yourself, in your flesh and blood, in order to comprehend the true meaning of your
Person . And then you have to connect with that person — with all of your being, from the heart to the surface of the skin.
In our formula, the value of the
Personality cannot be equal to zero, since no one is able to be completely disinterested (it is equal to — deprived of its own “I”), only the dead. But you can actually be very, very close to dedication. For example, like Gandhi: let's say he has this value - one tenth. Or you can be at the other extreme and be so selfish that, regardless of the number of advisors, you cannot hear anyone but the voice in your head. Something like Hitler. Or, if this is too odious for you, there is the option of a slimy-like Jabba the Hutt.
Try to move closer to your goal. Gandhi knew who he was: he lived in complete harmony with himself. Nike, for example, also knows what it is. Whether it is any product or sport - they also have their own clear and understandable purpose. Troubles begin when you conflict with yourself as a person.

As a corporation Microsoft, which undertook to release the Zune player, simply because it considered itself obliged to do so. Or as a schoolboy who comes to school after spring break with a hairstyle of fake braids. Or athletes who start raping (sorry, Shaquille O'Neill). You will experience greater self-satisfaction if you remain faithful to your nature, and will not worship shine or stereotypes.
I. APSCOSeth drove up in a mini-truck, which clearly belonged to his landscape firm. On one side of the car there was a large plastic poster with an Echo inscription, just like plumbers and plumbers' machines. Seth jumped out of the car and handed me a bag with five thousand dollars. All twenties. Like Seth's hands, the bag was dirty. But the money was clean.
I took the package from him and realized that:
1. Now I am responsible for everything.
2. This is all for real.
- Do you need a receipt?
That was the only thing I could say.
Seth laughed and said in a commanding voice:
“You take the money to APSCO, to Brooklyn.” Ask Big Phil. Agreed on me.

5000 dollars. This is all that we had then, our joint capital. I told Seth that we would turn those five thousand into fifty million, and for some reason he believed me. The business plan, if only it could be called that, suggested using cash for printing prints on t-shirts according to six sketches prepared by me. Until now, all the things I did in a single copy. To expand, we needed a real APSCO type offset factory where we could start production. We were going to sell T-shirts to local retail outlets, then invest in the second line to start working with larger retail stores. Well, then it would roll like a snowball, right?
I pretty much wandered the subway lines before I got to the intersection of First Avenue and Fifteenth Street in Brooklyn. The district was a semi-industrial zone with a series of concrete boxes, at the sight of which night fights from the thriller “Warriors” surfaced in the head. I immediately liked it here. As if I was thousands of miles from Lakewood. I entered the freight elevator and climbed to the fourth floor, listening to all the squeaks and whistles of the mechanism.
It was the middle of summer, and it was pretty hot. I felt a strong smell of epoxy, plastics and dyes. At the reception I introduced myself asleep to a teenage girl. She pointed to a huge man, taller than two meters, sitting in one of the corners of the room, who looked like a character from the space cartoon series Equal to God. He spoke on the big and very noisy mobile phone of a long outdated model.
On the secretary’s desk, the telephone rang.

- Big Phil, take line three.
“I don't have a damn time!” Let Little Phil answer! - barked a man.
He put the phone down and looked at me. I saw a small pistol that was tucked into his belt.
How does Seth know these types?I managed to greet Phil, but he did not answer, leafing through his papers. I said hello again.
“Um, Seth Gerzberg sent me,” I squeezed uncertainly.
- Seth? “Phil didn't take his eyes off his desk.” - Did you bring the money?
I opened the bag, letting Phil look inside. He nodded.
- Baby, you have prepared the screens?
- Screens? ..
- Well, the film. You've already divided all the colors? - He put his hand on my shoulder and led me to the entrance to the factory.
I absolutely did not understand what he was talking about. He quickly poured questions, and I still looked at his gun.
- How many units of the range?
- Assortment?
- Well, types of products. How many flowers?
- Six colors. Maybe nine, I said.
- Nine colors? Try to get along with six, kid, - Phil seemed to have casually touched his gun.
- Six T-shirts. I have six sketches for six kinds of t-shirts.
He looked at me in such a way as if I had thrown out something completely ridiculous. As if I said, “Hey, would you sell me a strawberry ice cream tub?” I was so naive. I didn’t know anything about screen printing, water dyes, color separation or dotted tones. I did not know anything about the mass production of T-shirts. I thought that the whole process would be reduced to the fact that I would give them drawings with sketches, and they would just print them on T-shirts.
Little Phil came in. He was much smaller than Big Phil and looked like Bob Odenkirk, a comedian from the TV series Mr. Show.
- Are you from Seth?
I nodded.
- Good. - And Little Phil shouted into the radio: - Body!
Some creature crawled out from under the mechanisms. A skinny young guy, like the bald Billy Corgan of The Smashing Pumpkins. He looked like he was born in this factory and never saw the sun.
“Bodie, bring this little thing up to date,” Big Phil asked, pointing at me.
Bodie nodded and took me on a tour of the factory. Undoubtedly, he was an excellent technical specialist who knew the whole production. He knew exactly how each knot should be adjusted. The body was supposed to be my Yoda in learning the art of
color separation .
I quickly learned that the key to making shirts and T-shirts look bright and cool was precisely the right separation of colors. No matter how good the original design may be, when printing at low resolution, it will turn the thing into a cheap one, devoid of all appeal. Body and Phil constantly repeated to me that the quality of the picture depends on the correct combination of colors in it.
I realized that Bodie can help me more than others, so for several weeks I followed him with a shadow, delving into the subtleties of printing on fabric and the entire production process. Given the knowledge gained, I re-prepared six of my sketches for prints. I almost felt bad when I saw Bodie cut out the stencils of dotted halftone on film. Based on this stencil, separate screens were subsequently made for each color. It took so much time! I kept asking Bodie:
- Is there any faster and easier way to make screens?
- Not. Now, come on, and he pulled the X-Acto cutter to me so that I cut the film myself.

The back of the factory went straight to the Gowanus Canal. He was so dirty and untidy. Especially a lot of dirt accumulated on abandoned piers. I liked it here. Every day at lunchtime, just by the hour, you could look out from the second floor and see how the police are having fun with local prostitutes. They did it right in the patrol cars. Hour of the day - and the spectacle in front of you. You could check the clock. We ate our sandwiches, drank them with fruit drinks or tea and enjoyed the show. No wonder Big Phil carried a gun with him.
After weeks of making screens for printing and preparing whole mountains of clean T-shirts, everything was finally ready to go into production. I was standing near a huge, octopus-like printing press and I was worried, waiting for the first t-shirt with a pattern to come off the line. Finally it was removed from the wooden plate of the conveyor.
She looked terrible.
The subsequent T-shirts were no better.
Drawing on them was vague, they themselves - some kind of crumpled. When I looked at them, I felt discomfort in my stomach. Under no circumstances could I come to terms with such a quality. In another factory workshop, where large orders from clients such as the National Hockey League were being carried out, I saw ready-made T-shirts with a clear pattern of almost photographic resolution.
I understood that we, of course, not the NHL. But I also understood that I would never make compromises with regard to my work and art. My images should look good. They should look like real ones.
I grabbed a t-shirt with the logo of the hockey team of the New York Rangers and showed it to both Filam.
-
See it? Why can't my t-shirts look the same?
“The NHL can pay for more sophisticated printing technology,” said Little Phil, with a shrug.
“And you are not,” finished Big Phil.
While I was tormented with the separation of six colors,
it turns out, it was
possible to achieve the separation of twelve colors and make such a seal. But for this there was little mind and experience Body. To do this, it was necessary to find the opportunity to work in the technology of Serichrome.

Good. If this is the case, I will try to come up with something. And I called the Serichrome office in Dallas. A company representative called the package price: $ 5,000.
- Five thousand? - I tried not to show that panic.
This left us no means to
pay for the printing of T-shirts.
- I am not the National Football League. I am not a reebok. Our project is very important. It's about art. You must see my drawings, and then you will understand that you must help us! Do you have student rates?
“Yes, there is,” answered the employee.
- And how much will that cost?
- 5000 dollars.
I hung up and called Seth.
“We have no more money,” he said.
“These guys are rascals,” I complained. - Bloody Body! We need Serichrome.
- We print our t-shirts at APSCO. Stop whining about this.
- They kill my art!
- Deal with it yourself.

I accepted the challenge and once again took on Body, sucking everything he knew from it to the last drop. In the end, I mastered all the subtleties in the separation of colors. I found that I can increase the print resolution on a fabric using very tedious manual technology.
The solution was to spend long hours at my desk, manically trying to improve the screens for printing. To cut a stencil on the screen, a special cutter is used, which is called squeegee. And I bought myself such a cutter - a new one, which was larger in size than that of Bodie. I called the knife “Hold on, Body!” And treated him with the same respect with which the chef of a Japanese restaurant treats his favorite knife. I worked with this cutter as if my life depended on it.
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