Justin Blaney's Blog, page 53
October 7, 2014
The Finished Evan Burl Trailer. And the story of how it happened.
A couple weeks ago I wrote this note to myself:
"Slow truck in on Kenzie in orange dress makeup running play it back in reverse she is holding an old candle raining. Her voice narrates. Very simple like shining trailer."
Once I have a new idea, I can't stop thinking about it. Which is why after wanting to do a trailer for Evan Burl for the last few years, I ended up making it from concept to final in about a week. I apologized to my wife Anna after we were done because I knew I'd been spending a lot of time on the trailer when I should have been working on paying gigs. I said, "I knew I couldn't stop thinking about it until it was done, so I just got to it." He eyes twinkled as she said, "Don't worry about it. I know you." I guess after 15 years of marriage, she knows me pretty well.
Here are some photos from behind-the-scenes
This is a test we did for the video in our back yard. Love the Mickey Snowman -- very scary.
We used a weed sprayer with a hand pump to add some water on her face because by the time we got to our location, it had stopped raining. We also used a leaf blower to add some movement to her hair.
One women who was particularly high seemed intent on letting us know what horrible parents we were (my wife, Anna, was there helping) for spraying my daughter with a weed sprayer. (Again, there was only water in it.) She kept asking Mackenzie if she was cold and if she wanted to stop. Mackenzie kept saying no, she's fine. We told the lady to leave after a while and she said, "I just can't believe the creative ways parents come up with to torture their children."
We had several homeless people and at least two people who were tripping on something approach us during the shot. Being near downtown Seattle, small crowds of people were watching and we had to stop shooting several times because people would walk in front of us without noticing that we're spraying water and filming.
We didn't have a permit to film, and I wasn't sure if we really needed one, but we started filming with just me and Mackenzie and my iPhone, just in case someone came out later and told us we had to leave. Then we slowly started adding more production value. I had my wife and kids there to help so I'd wave them over from the car. They darted out and we started shooting. Fortunately, no one ever came to stop us.
Overall, there are about 60 effects used to make this video.
Here is a screen shot of the color grading in Magic Bullet Looks.
For those who are interested, here is a list of gear that we used
Final Cut Pro X on a 27" iMac and a 13" Mac Pro
Canon C100 camera body
24-100 L Lens
Magic Bullet Looks
Crumple pop lighting effects
Yanobox titles
Cinegrain film grain
Logic Pro audio mastering
I'd love to know what you think about the final product. Let me know in the comments!
More about the Evan Burl Book Release and Our Weekly Giveaway
Stay tuned for more info on the book (releasing January 6), book giveaways, a Kickstarter, and more!
Amazon shopping spree and book giveaway
To celebrate (1) the launch of Evan Burl on January 6th, (2) the Kickstarter campaign that aims to fight fatherlessness with fiction and most importantly (3) you, I'm giving away $1000 in prizes including more than 50 signed books, a $250 Amazon shopping spree and dozens of other gifts from great authors around the world.
The winner of our last giveaway is Gloria Macioci Blaney!
Along with winning a signed copy of Evan Burl and the Falling, Vol. 1-2 Gloria joins the other semi-finalists in the $250 Amazon gift card giveaway. Claim your prize by emailing
Click here to enter now for your chance to win, plus get the free eBook instantly, just for entering!
Watch for my next blog to see if you've won. These are some places to read the blog: Facebook, Twitter, in your email, on my website, on Amazon, or on Goodreads.
Here is a list of the semifinalists for the $250 Amazon giveaway!
Jessica Mamac, Kristen Patinka, Lou Scott, Scott Bothel, John Wargowsky, Tammy Dalley, Carl Smith, Heather Miles, Sally Hannoush, Christopher Burrell, Cathy Smith, Blake Goldstein, Katrina Epperson, Janae Schiele, Vanessa Rasanen, Katrina Umland, Deanna Wiseburn, Hope Clippinger, Rebecca Ann Baker, Lisa Whitten, Gavin Imes, Robin Baker, April Reynolds, Gloria Macioci Blaney
October 1, 2014
Some things we want can blind us from being who we were made to be: A personal story
Sometimes this drive worked for me, although my motivations often had less to do with being the best I could be than they did with becoming some sort of idealized, fantasy version of myself.
At the age of sixteen, I came home from school one sunny day in May and informed my mother that I would not be going back to Willamette High. She set a steaming casserole down on the dinner table.
“Excuse me?”
“I made a deal with the principal.”
“What kind of deal?”
“I told him I was bored and I’d likely get into trouble if I didn’t find some way to challenge myself. So I asked for a diploma in exchange for promising to go to college."
“And he said yes?”
I brushed past her, on the way to the back door that led the converted shed where I roomed. “What else would he say?” The door slammed behind me as I exited. And just like that, my high school career had come to an end.
By this time in my seasoned life, I’d achieved a moderate level of popularity through a combination of being the worst behaved kid in the room at any given time, possessing proprietary strategies for scoring Big Bear 40s or various brands of the kind of vodka that comes in big plastic jugs, and having a knack for inventing creative strategies for pranking teachers. I had also come to understand the fleeting nature of popularity and decided to turn my attention to something more endurable. Getting rich.
As far as I knew at the time, my birth father was a drug dealer, and not a very good one.
He lived in a 60-square-foot trailer behind someone’s house. I had his specific location narrowed down to the state of California. My stepfather, whose last name I took at the age of six, was a plumber for the city of Eugene. He made a decent income somewhere between working and middle class. But I had set my sights a little higher. I saw myself living somewhere in the neighborhood of Hearst Castle—or the White House. I was part of the smoke-free class of 2000. Everyone said I could be anything I wanted. A bank account with nine or ten digits seemed a reasonable expectation.
So the summer after I ended my public education, I began to experience my foray into a wonderful world known as earning the big bucks—starting with selling vacuum cleaners. I learned many advanced sales techniques such as throwing dirt on someone’s carpet when they open the door so I can illustrate the wonderful attributes of my Majestic Air Vacuum Cleaner Extraordinaire. But at the end of three months, during which I sold exactly one machine, my mother pulled rank and made me quit. The sales manager said it was the worst decision I’d ever make and that I was a douchebag for doing what my mommy told me to. I thought he was right, but what could I do? My mom had told me to quit.
Based on the enormous success I’d had in sales so far, I transitioned into car stereos. I accidentally wrote my birth year wrong on the employment application, inadvertently giving the impression that I was 18, when in fact I was 16—an age that the state of Oregon deemed unsuitable for such occupations. Fortunately for me, and my mother, I was more suited to selling Polk Audio tweeters and Monster Cable 1/4” Adapters than household cleaning appliances that doubled as air fresheners.
During this time, I’d all but mastered the art of annoying girls
with the secret intent of flirting and had managed to successfully win the attentions of a young women named Anna. She was a catch well above my station, in part because she was two and a half years older, had a van, and carried a four-inch pocket knife.
Pop quiz. What do you get when you combine a boy who sleeps in a shed with its own private entrance, a girl with a van, and parents who think this boy and girl shouldn’t see each other anymore? So one day Anna came to me with a pregnancy test.
“What’s that?” I said.
“What do you think?"
“Who’s it for?"
“Who do you think?”
(Anna said that's not how she remembers the conversation going, but it was something like that)
Like I said, I always wanted to get a jump start on life. What I got was two pink lines. And at that moment, I can honestly say I didn’t question what I was going to do. I was going to be a dad. And I knew Anna and I were going to be together forever.
The next morning I got up an hour early.
I was the first to arrive at Future Shop Electronics Superstore. It was commission, so you could work as many hours as you liked. I knew I had to start providing for my new family so I was going to be there from open to close. Not only was I going to be the best breadwinner who ever won bread, but I was going to have enough cash left over to take my baby out to steak dinner every night. Or at least Olive Garden. But when all the staff had arrived that morning, the manager informed us that the store was closing and we’d all be out of work in a few weeks.
Two months later—after my mom signed the permission slip—Anna and I were married and I was unemployed. My drive was fueled on Top Ramen, my love for Anna, and a desperate need to prove our families, pastors, and friends wrong. Fortunately for us, Shania Twain had the forethought to put music to our mantra: “They said, I’ll bet they’ll never make it. But just look at us holdin’ on.” We, like Shania, and whoever she was singing about, weren’t going to be a statistic.
Unless by statistic you mean standing in an unemployment line.
That was one statistical class that I found myself a part of several times over the following years. And though my plans of becoming rich and successful were temporarily delayed, I was soon on my way again. Over the following 15 years, I tried my hand at a couple different careers. I’ve been paid to be an electrician, songwriter, gardener, plumber, videographer, photographer, fabricator, welder, contractor, developer, graphic designer, web designer, house framer, narrator, illustrator, backhoe operator, truck driver, copywriter, cook, buyer, investor, blogger, speaker, conference promoter, engineer, architect, delivery man, actor, marketer, purchasing consultant, art framer, project manager, eBay reseller, programmer, web startup founder, musician, store manager, and paper boy. I’ve sold vacuum cleaners, radios, appliances, advertising, paper towels, buffing pads, pork, beef, sausage, bacon, fine art, frames, home audio installations, manufactured products, websites, my own photography, clean room equipment and supplies, car parts, and used cars. And I’ve volunteered as a dance instructor, church elder, worship leader, nonprofit board director, and college professor.
One day, during my clean room equipment manufacturing phase, one of my clients handed me a stack of business cards. A knot grew in my stomach as I flipped through them one by one. Each had my name, embossed proudly in the corner. And in the other corner, a different company logo. In just the three years I’d known this client, I’d changed my company name—and my business focus—five or six times. Lucky for me, those were the only changes he knew about. I realize know that he was just teasing me, but I felt a great deal of shame over my nature. I was addicted to change, constantly shifting from one idea to the next, searching for something that would come easier than the last project. Even when I had something going well, I couldn’t resist trying something new—usually in the hope that it would be easier, more fun, or just different.
I spent 15 years and dozens of careers trying to discover what I was good at. Never once did it occur to me that there might be a string that ran through all these changes. All through school, whatever teacher I had would encourage me to explore a career in the field they taught. The science teacher thought I had a talent for science. The English teacher thought I should become a writer. The PE teacher thought—well scratch that. I wasn’t ever any good at PE. But I was frustrated by their responses. I had ten different people telling me to do ten different things with my life. Looking back, I can see what they were really telling me was that I was good at learning. They each thought I was good at whatever subject they taught because in fact, I was good at all the subjects. This same skill enabled me to do about three hundred different careers—maybe not brilliantly, but well enough to provide for my family.
I was blind to the idea that loving change might be an asset.
I couldn’t see it at the time, but I didn’t want to be like either of my two dads. On the one hand, my birth father was an idea guy who never did anything. He was a genius. He could have been a brain surgeon, or a math professor, or one of the people who make Top Pot doughnuts, because whoever makes those things must be a genius. He never did anything with his life, and I desperately didn’t want to be like him. On the other hand, my stepfather was a caring man who tried his best to step in and be a dad to me. But he was steady. Really steady. He might be happy working the same job as a plumber for the city of Eugene for twenty years. As far as I was concerned, working the same job for twenty years was the kind of thing people had to do in hell.
I had a preconceived notion of the person I was going to be, and I was going to do everything in my power to become that person. Even if I didn’t know who that person was, or if I wasn’t meant to be that person. All the while, I never stopped to really honestly ask myself “what am I made to be?”
I still can’t say that I’ve found the answer to that question. I may not know for sure until my time here on earth is done. But I’m a lot closer today than I was when I was unwilling to accept myself for who I was. I can see now how the evidence had been knocking me on the noggin since I was in preschool.
I wanted to be great at making money so I was in sales. I wanted to be a successful businessman so I bought and sold companies. I wanted to be a great songwriter so I spent all the money I’d made in business flying to Nashville and recording demos. Because I was good at learning, I was able to pick up a variety of skills well enough to get by for a while, but they never quite fit. And I grew tired of them as soon as I’d learned about 70% of what it might take to reach mastery—a point where I reached a level of diminishing return on my investment of energy. It wasn’t until I let go of my agenda, giving up my desires for wealth, fame, and success, that I was able to see the string that ran through all of those different careers.
So what does a person do that is good at learning? Well, I suppose there are a number of options. Teaching. Writing. Research. Creating life-changing doughnuts. I’m still not sure where I land, but I’m a lot more narrowed down than I was before. It’s been pretty nice to not include in my potential list of careers every possibility known to mankind. I’m happier now, more fulfilled in my work, even more focused. By discovering more about my uniqueness, I was able to narrow my drive and my desire for change. If you compare it to bowling, before I was throwing balls all over the place. I was throwing balls in the parking lot. Now, I might still toss my ball onto the lane next to me, or land one in the gutter, but I’m no longer trying to get a strike at the nacho counter.
I realize this is a very personal story. I hesitated to even share my story because this isn’t about me. It’s about you. But I wanted you to know where I’m coming from. To know that perhaps there is someone else who has experienced some of the same frustrations that you might have had in your quest to find your place in this world. Your details will be different than mine. Not everyone wants to be rich, famous, and successful. But I bet there are some things you do want that might be blinding you from seeing what you were made to be.
You have different talents than I do. Everyone does. But talents are like colors. There isn’t a right talent, or a better talent. There is only you. And the talents you have are precious, no matter how many you have, or how brightly you perceive them to shine. You don’t get to go back into the womb and re-roll your DNA. And I hope you don’t want to. Because the world needs you, just the way you are.
Thank you for joining me in this celebration of uniqueness.
I'm working on my sixth book, The You Gap, and intend to include some of this content in it. Please help me make The You Gap better by leaving a comment below.
Amazon shopping spree and book giveaway
To celebrate (1) the launch of Evan Burl on January 6th, (2) the Kickstarter campaign that aims to fight fatherlessness with fiction and most importantly (3) you, I'm giving away $1000 in prizes including more than 50 signed books, a $250 Amazon shopping spree and dozens of other gifts from great authors around the world.
The winner of our last giveaway is Chris Harris!
Along with winning a signed copy of Evan Burl and the Falling, Vol. 1-2 Gloria joins the other semi-finalists in the $250 Amazon gift card giveaway. Claim your prize by emailing
Click here to enter now for your chance to win, plus get the free eBook instantly, just for entering!
Watch for my next blog to see if you've won. These are some places to read the blog: Facebook, Twitter, in your email, on my website, on Amazon, or on Goodreads.
Here is a list of the semifinalists for the $250 Amazon giveaway!
Jessica Mamac, Kristen Patinka, Lou Scott, Scott Bothel, John Wargowsky, Tammy Dalley, Carl Smith, Heather Miles, Sally Hannoush, Christopher Burrell, Cathy Smith, Blake Goldstein, Katrina Epperson, Janae Schiele, Vanessa Rasanen, Katrina Umland, Deanna Wiseburn, Hope Clippinger, Rebecca Ann Baker, Lisa Whitten, Gavin Imes, Robin Baker, April Reynolds, Gloria Macioci Blaney, Chris Harris
September 23, 2014
Evan Burl Trailer Test… I’d love your feedback!
I'd love to know what you think. Let me know in the comments below! Watch it full screen with the lights off for maximum effect 
A few important notes: In the final version she'll be in a cool orange dress and her hair will be wet. Also, I'm aware that Im is spelled wrong in the text at the end.
Also, I'm going to be releasing a ton of new information soon on Evan Burl and all my final releases.
Yes, the book is finally done!
I can't believe it. For any of you who have read multiple versions over the last four years, maybe you can't believe it too. Synchronize your watches for Jan 6, the tentative release date. I'm hoping to do a kickstarter that will benefits high school libraries and small bookstores around the US. The theme of the book and kickstarter campaign is:
Fighting fatherlessness with fiction
Again, I'll have more on this soon. Just wanted to put a bug in your ear because I'm going to need your help creating and crafting this campaign with ideas and feedback in order for us to make the biggest difference possible.
And finally,
I'm re-commiting to a giveaway every week.
I have to apologize for dropping the ball on the giveaways. I promised to do one each week, or at least as often as I do a blog post, and I just haven't had the energy to keep them going for the last few months. But, I've hired a few wonderful people (Corrin Bauer and Lydia Albert) to help keep me on track. Together, we hope to have new books from great authors to give to you each week. Thanks for understanding and forgiving my flakiness.
So without further ado, it's time for:
Amazon shopping spree and book giveaway
To celebrate (1) the launch of Evan Burl on January 6th, (2) the Kickstarter campaign that aims to fight fatherlessness with fiction and most importantly (3) you, I'm giving away $1000 in prizes including more than 50 signed books, a $250 Amazon shopping spree and dozens of other gifts from great authors around the world.
The winner of our last giveaway is Gloria Macioci Blaney!
Along with winning a signed copy of Evan Burl and the Falling, Vol. 1-2 Gloria joins the other semi-finalists in the $250 Amazon gift card giveaway. Claim your prize by emailing
Click here to enter now for your chance to win, plus get the free eBook instantly, just for entering!
Watch for my next blog to see if you've won. These are some places to read the blog: Facebook, Twitter, in your email, on my website, on Amazon, or on Goodreads.
Here is a list of the semifinalists for the $250 Amazon giveaway!
Jessica Mamac, Kristen Patinka, Lou Scott, Scott Bothel, John Wargowsky, Tammy Dalley, Carl Smith, Heather Miles, Sally Hannoush, Christopher Burrell, Cathy Smith, Blake Goldstein, Katrina Epperson, Janae Schiele, Vanessa Rasanen, Katrina Umland, Deanna Wiseburn, Hope Clippinger, Rebecca Ann Baker, Lisa Whitten, Gavin Imes, Robin Baker, April Reynolds, Gloria Macioci Blaney
Join the conversation
September 15, 2014
Shiny Objects
As you know, I'm in the middle of writing my latest book The You Gap. While I've been writing I realized that the reason I'm drawn to the subject of uniqueness is not just because I love uncommon people who embrace their uniqueness, but also because I'm addicted to change.
I've experienced a lot of setbacks because of my tendency to chase shiny objects, and pain because I've felt this is something I had to fix in myself.
I have a feeling there are a other change addicts out there, people who might benefit from knowing they're not alone. Perhaps The You Gap would be more helpful to others like me if I can offer some encouragement, and maybe a few tips for how I've grown through being ashamed of my tendency to love change. In light of that focus change (ironic right?), I'm thinking of changing the title of the book to Shiny Objects.
A couple byline options are:
1. The definitive change addicts guide
2. The change addicts guide to changing the world and surviving
3. The power of change
Hey, I just thought of that last one. Maybe I could make the book for change addicts, and people who want a little more change in their life? (I ran this past a life coach and she said this was a really crowded field, so many not so cool after all)
4. The guide for people who can't stop changing
Below is a possible cover concept.
What do you think? I'd love to hear your opinion in the comments on the change of the topic, change of the title, and any other change you'd like to celebrate!
Stay tuned for more inspiration to find and embrace your uniqueness in upcoming blogs.
September 10, 2014
Everyone Is Unique
There is no recipe for uniqueness. It’s not a commodity to be bought and sold on a mercantile exchange floor. Sometimes, in our mission to help each other grow or otherwise meddle in the lives of our friends and family, we oversimplify. We want people to understand us so we break something that shouldn’t be broken down into a system. A paint by numbers life. A 12-step program that will fix everything that’s wrong with our lives.
But it doesn’t work this way. Uniqueness is like a song. Or a novel. Or a great plate of coconut shrimp with orange marmalade. How long will it take? What are the steps to get it perfect every time? The answer is that it depends. Each person has their own path, a unique journey to a unique destination.
That said, just as with art and great cooking, there are some general rules and guidelines to help us find our way.
First, everyone is unique. But some people are more unique. This reminds me of the book Animal Farm where everyone is equal, but some animals are more equal than others. Yet the principal for uniqueness is less about fooling the less-unique into thinking they are equal with the privileged few. Instead, this is just a fact of life. It’s not a happy fact, but a fact none the less.
We can take this one of two ways. One, we can fret about it, throw a fit, give up, yell obscenities, and cry at our own party. Or we can accept this fact of life as the freeing reality it is.
We can’t become someone we’re not. And we shouldn’t expect to.
I believe the real lesson here is to worry less about how unique we are and instead just try to be the best version of ourselves we can be. Everyone can do that. And besides, if everyone had the same magnitude of uniqueness, that wouldn't be very unique.
Stay tuned for the rest of the guidelines to finding your uniqueness in upcoming blogs.
Thank you for joining me in this celebration of uniqueness.
I'm working on my sixth book, The You Gap, and intend to include some of this content in it. Please help me make The You Gap better by leaving a comment below.
August 26, 2014
How Harriet Tubman Changed the World
The birth date of the worlds most influential people are often celebrated as holidays. What date do you celebrate if the person you’re celebrating doesn’t know her own birthdate? What if she didn’t even know where she was born? That is how Harriet Tubman’s story begins. She was born the daughter of a slave and became a slave herself. She then went on to become one of the most important figures in American history.
Harriet Tubman could not have been born to a greater disadvantage.Ruthlessly abused, neglected and ignored, Harriet turned her disadvantages into her strengths. She slipped through the cracks of society. The world wanted to forget her, so she let them forget her; she slipped through the night, stealing away forgotten souls and whisking them away to a new world that would never forget her.
I’m often surprised by how easily I slip into a pattern of feeling sorry for myself. Or of being jealous of those who have slightly more than me. I love the reminder of how far we can go and how much impact we can have with so little to start with.
We love the stories of successful people who started with nothing. But did they really have nothing? Did they have Harriet nothing? I try to remind myself to look around every once in a while, take a break, sit down, and reflect on the blessings in my life—the advantages I’ve been given.
If I remember that Harriet Tubman changed the world, having started with so little, I find it more difficult to make excuses for myself.
I’m assuming you know how to read—a safe assumption given you’re reading right now. That is an advantage Harriet Tubman did not have when she began to change the world. And yet she was smart, driven, entrepreneurial, and unwilling to settle. She, as a young slave, negotiated a rare arrangement with her master, effectively becoming her own agent. She hired her services out, paying her master for the right to do so, but keeping a bit for herself. With this money, she began to build a future for herself.
One of the assets she needed was a cow, a cost of $40. Harriet figured she could save $10 a year which, she reasoned, would allow her to make the purchase after just four years. Can you imagine saving everything you have for four years to purchase a single cow? I have a difficult time waiting two days for my orders to come from Amazon. What vision Harriet had, what a desire to build something bigger than the moment.
And build something she did. Today, hundreds of years later, we’re still talking about a slave who fought for her freedom and showed the world what it was unwilling to see in itself.
Because of Harriet Tubman, millions of slaves were eventually given what they had all along—their humanity. How can we follow Harriet’s example? How can we change the world? How can we rise above whatever circumstance we feel holds us down?
I'm writing a book and I need your help!
Find out about my upcoming book, The You Gap, and look for more blog posts, videos and other resources to help you find, develop and share what makes you unlike everyone else on earth.
Please give me feedback on this blog post. Your feedback will make The You Gap better than it could ever be without you. In addition to your feedback, I'd love to know what makes you unique.
July 28, 2014
A Tale of Two Puzzle Pieces
One piece—we’ll call her Ruth—is unhappy with the shape she’s been given. She sees another piece, Veronica, across the dinner table, who looks like models in shampoo commercials, drives a late model Saab, knows how to cook meatloaf exquisitely, loves waking up early to walk her Labradoodle that has hair instead of fur, and goes every afternoon to a hot yoga studio disguised as a Zen garden.
So Ruth begins to change her shape. She wants to be like Veronica. She shaves a corner here, duct tapes a bit of cardboard on there, tries hot yoga, hates it but pretends to like it because Veronica appears to like it. And because the Zen garden exterior keeps drawing her in.
Soon, the great puzzle-fitter-togetherer—we’ll call him Garth—returns to finish the puzzle. Garth stares down at the puzzle, a few empty spots here and there. The puzzle is almost complete—he always saves the best part, the last few pieces, for when he’s eating his Friday meatloaf dinner. He takes a bite of meatloaf, picks up Ruth, tries to fit her into a few spots, but she doesn’t seem to fit anywhere. So Garth, chewing thoughtfully, sets Ruth aside, picks up Veronica. Almost instantly, he locates where she goes. She slips nicely into her spot. The spot she was designed to fill. He swallows his bite and smiles.
The rest of the puzzle pieces eventually find their spots, too. All of them except Ruth. She doesn’t fit anywhere now—not since she tried to become like Veronica. Not since she traded in her ten-speed for a Saab. Not since she started wearing too much make up and one-inch eyelash extensions.
So Ruth sits all alone at the edge of the dinner table, next to Garth’s meatloaf dinner, as he stares sadly at the puzzle. The meatloaf turns to gravel in his mouth. He’s lost his appetite. Because the puzzle is incomplete. There is one, huge, empty spot and no piece to fill it. A tear rolls down Garth’s cheek.
The lesson?
Don’t make Garth cry. Be yourself.
Have you ever seen a poster of a famous painting? Which is worth more, the poster, or the original? You are a masterpiece.
Don’t be the rolled-up poster in a cardboard tube purchased from the tourist shop outside the museum next to the hot dog stand down the hall from the bathrooms and the crying kid asking for a toy dinosaur. Be the masterpiece people pay $25 a head to get into the museum to see, only to find out they have to pay another $10 to get into the room where you’re on display.
Be the masterpiece they lower into a ten foot concrete bunker when the place closes that’s guarded by red lasers and moving cameras.
Be that masterpiece. That’s the masterpiece you were made to be.
I'm writing a book and I need your help!
Find out about my upcoming book, The You Gap, and look for more blog posts, videos and other resources to help you find, develop and share what makes you unlike everyone else on earth.
Please give me feedback on this blog post. Your feedback will make The You Gap better than it could ever be without you. In addition to your feedback, I'd love to know what makes you unique.
July 22, 2014
Finding Your Place in This World
Millions upon millions of people suffer from depression and many do need clinical help. Yet I can’t help but wonder: What is causing all this depression?
If drug use is any indication, depression is rising at an alarming pace. Drugs can be effective at treating symptoms—and in many cases are necessary to do so—but what about the cause?
Those who struggle with depression, and I count myself as one of them, often use similar words to describe how they feel.
Hopeless.
Futureless.
Uninspired by the life in which they have landed.
Like there is no place for them in this world.
Could it be that some, not all, but some people are fighting with depression because they’ve gone too far, for too long, down a path they weren’t built for? They settled. They made mistakes. They experienced setbacks.
I can say with certainty that the answer to this question is yes. Because that is my story.
We were told to act a certain way. We tried for a while, but it never felt right. So we learned to believe something was wrong with us.
We tried to do something, many things, and failed. We internalized failure. Made failure our identity. We owned failure, like a cold cup of day old coffee.
What if we change our mindset?Instead of acting the way other people say we should, we begin to act the way we were made.
Instead of settling for the cards we’ve been dealt, we build something new, something that fits our uniqueness.
Instead of internalizing failure and accepting it as our identity, we look at failure as pruning. Where our life, the life we were made for, takes shape before our eyes during many trips around the sun;
Where some things we failed at weren’t meant for us, and other failures were opportunities to try again, only smarter this time.
I’m so thankful for the technology we possess today, where we can understand the way the human body works to the degree that we can create compounds that help us diminish painful, sometimes dangerous symptoms. But if we’re only treating the symptoms, we’re missing an opportunity to cure the root.
Trying to be someone we are not is mentally sapping.
It’s horrible to wake up Monday morning and drive in to a job that isn’t meant for you.*
For over a decade, I moved from thing to thing, entrepreneurial job to corporate job, artistic career to technical career like I was sampling plastic plattered hors d'oeuvres at a party I wasn’t invited to. I sometimes experienced success for a while, sometimes experienced complete failure from the start. After more than a decade, and experiencing my biggest failure of all, I applied for 2000 jobs, trying to reboot my life. I had no idea who I was. I didn’t have a clue as to what I was made for. I was ashamed of hoping from one interest to the next. I wrote a resume that hid who I was. I never told anyone all the things I’d done.
I was trying to hide because I’d been taught, and I’d taught myself to believe, that the kind of life I’d been living was the path toward eternal frustration and lack of accomplishment. That hoping around was for losers.
It’s so cheesy, almost too cheesy to admit, but since you and I are such close friends, or at least I think we could be if we spent some time together, I’ll tell you something embarrassing about me. I remember thinking one night about the words to a song by Michael W. Smith.
“Roaming through the night to find my place in this world.”
For those of you who lived through the 90s and now have this stuck in your head, I’m deeply sorry. But despite the cheesiness of this song**, the lyrics of this one line at least said exactly what I was struggling so hard to do. Except I wasn’t roaming, at least not through the night.
I think a lot of people are trying to find their place in this world. Heck, Taylor Swift wrote a song about the same thing 20 years after my man MWS! I think a lot of people haven’t found their place yet.
I think that’s why a lot of people hate going to work on Mondays. And why a lot of people drink so much. And why a lot of people are so angry***. And why a lot of people struggle with depression.
What if we could find our place?
What if we were excited to get up on Mondays? What if we weren’t angry all the time anymore? Why if we could cure our depression by healing the root instead of only treating the symptoms?
I believe we can. I believe you can. You do it by being yourself. Not the self other people want you to be. Not the idealized, fake self you sometimes try to become because of culture and Hollywood and advertising. Not the Xeroxed self that is just a butt-copy of that person you look up to so much (or are jealous of).
The real you.
* Let’s face it, some jobs aren’t made for anyone, but we’ll have to save that subject for another time.
** Here is the actual first verse, which I had to look up, I promise.
The wind is moving
But I am standing still
A life of pages
Waiting to be filled
A head that's full of dreams
But this becoming
Is harder than it seems
*** I was cut off by a guy the other day that I’m pretty sure has not yet found his place in this world.
I'm writing a book and I need your help!Find out about my upcoming book, The You Gap, and look for more blog posts, videos and other resources to help you find, develop and share what makes you unlike everyone else on earth.
Please give me feedback on this blog post. Your feedback will make The You Gap better than it could ever be without you. In addition to your feedback, I'd love to know what makes you unique.
Photo by Richard John Pozon.
July 15, 2014
The you gap part 2: The uniqueness of Harriet Tubman
In the second part of this workshop, Justin Blaney shares at Seattle's Creativity Symposium about the uniqueness of Harriet Tubman and how we can learn from unique people like Harriet. During this workshop, Justin encourages you to embrace and share what makes you unique.
Stream the entire workshop at justinblaney.com/grow
Find out how to hire Justin for your next event at justinblaney.com/speaker
July 8, 2014
Over Colorado
I took this shot while flying over the rockies. The cloud mountains might actually rival the real mountains below. I was chasing the sunset from the east coast all the way to Pacific and the whole country seemed to be covered in clouds. None were as beautiful as these though.
Proudly presenting Fast Wide Open
Discover a panorama of the inspiration for Justin's postmodern fairytale anthology with this collection of 37 original images that explore character, architecture, setting, texture and visual storytelling. On Kindle, iBooks, paperback, or beautifully typeset hardback.
Want a free signed hardback copy of Fast Wide Open?
I'm giving a free eBook of Fast Wide Open to the first 20 people who agree to leave me a review on Amazon after you've checked it out. Email me at justin@justinblaney.com to participate! Plus, if you send me a link to your review when you're done, you will have a 20% chance of winning a signed hardback copy of the book. You are not obligated to leave a positive review.
If you're interested in seeing a sample of the photos included in Fast Wide Open, I've posted a few here.
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