Care

I love making ads. It sounds ridiculous. But I really do.

There’s always that feeling of starting out without any clue. That momentary panic when you’re given an assignment. That ‘oh, shit’ minute.

‘This is it,’ you silently say. ‘This is where everyone’s going to realize the true hack I know I’ve always been. Where the genius I will never become will finally—and thankfully—be exposed.’

But part of you thinks something else.

Part of you thinks about what you could do. The anticipation of doing what’s been done by no one before you and conceivably, by no one after you.

And that’s the part I love.

Could this be the one that defines my career? The one that people will see and get excited about and remember and love? Could this be the one that inspires someone to do something they’ve always wanted to do and never have? Buy a product they’ve never bought that will change their life? Get involved in a cause they’ve always felt strongly about and never realized?

Could this be the one that makes someone see some aspect about the world in an entirely new and different and amazingly optimistic way that makes him or her think, ‘Man, that is so right on. That’s how I see things, too. I just never knew it.’

I love how advertising makes the mundane seem extraordinary. How it forces you to see the wonder in literally everything that exists. This wonder can make train transport remarkable, multivitamins incredible, insurance unbelievable.

I love that there’s a certain amount of fear in this business. But I love even more the pride. Because pride is where the fear comes from. It’s worth more than the money and the fame and the toys. It can’t be shown off on your wrist or backed out of a garage or sipped from a glass.

Pride is what keeps you working two days straight not because of a paycheck or a promotion or an awards show, but because you truly want to make it great for no one but you. It’s knowing you’ve figured out and created something no one out of 6 billion ever could.

It’s someone coming up to you and telling you your work touched them. I can’t say I’ve ever experienced what that feels like, but I know this much.

It's worth caring about.

dubs. out.