A few years ago in my Graphics course during senior year of high school there was an assignment that I had a blast with. The short of it is this: we made up a fictitious product and ran an ad campaign for it. People came up with everything from the run of the mill to the extraordinary. Me being myself (as I usually am) I decided that I could not just settle on something mundane. But what? I jotted down some ideas, a few thoughts, and a couple of inspirations. I decided on the most ridiculous one, or at least the most unique:

Earth in a Box.

The name is what it is, a miniature planet you could buy and mess around with. With unnamed made up technology you could suspend it in one place in the air, or even have it orbit you. There was all sorts of random options, like ecosystems and whatnot. Moons were extra.

My next item on the to do list was to come up with a slogan, a unifying theme for the campaign. This set me back a few days, as I couldn't actually think of a good reason to buy one other than the initial novelty of having a floaty spinny thing. I watched a couple of commercials on Youtube, and discovered something - most commercials nowadays all focus on one single thing: choice. Nine out of ten commercials had some element of "Do what you want! You choose! You are free! Free! FREEEEEE! (Buythisnow)" Huh. With this though fresh on my mind, I soon penciled down my slogan:

What would you do with an Earth in a Box?

After the first time often shortened to What would you do, or WWYD, I decided to take the problem of what on earth people would do with their own tiny earth, and turn it into a challenge to my [pretend] consumers. Imagine the possibilities! my ads offered. What couldn't you do? You don't even need to DO anything! Just let it orbit you! Start your own solar system! What would you do with? What can't you do WITH? Limitless ideas! Infinite freedom to choose! What would you do? What would you do? What would you do???

/*******/

Several years later, now trading most of my art for computer science, I rarely draw or photoshop. I'm at the computer most days most times, doing some sort of project, or wasting my time. I sit and surf and wonder why my skills of an artist aren't progressing as much as I'd like to. I used to be GOOD, but then it all fell away. I was emersing myself in other people's art, soaking in what I could gather, but the only time I'd put pencil to paper was in the margins of my notes when I was bored, usually drawing boxes or stickmen. Ideas floated around, oh sure, but I was afraid to try, afraid to fail. I wasn't as good as everyone else, and my awful drawings disgusted me. I want to improve, and I know that the only thing for it is practice, but I shrink away at the sight of my own work! Forward motion is continually displaced by an annoyance of my cadence.

Unpacking my things from school for the summer, I came across my sketchbooks. I made two more drawings since my last update. Two. One was of a guy asleep a row ahead of me on a two hour flight, and the other was a handful of abominable attempts at getting a likeness of Pocky's Kurai for that art trade I owe her. At about the same time, I'm flipping through some arty books I decided on a whim to check out from the library. I'm a bit depressed with the thought of these. A whole year it feels like, and I have NOTHING to show for it. No progress. No new ground. Nothing. I keep remembering people talk to me when I was little, looking at my coloring books, my doodles, my works. You have so much potential they told me. So much, and yet it all was being wasted. My silver talent was buried in the ground.

My thoughts swam around in my head as I shuffled through these papers, and as I leafed through some works from high school, I found a couple of mock-ups of my EiaB print ad. It was a simple, iconic-y picture of the logo with the slogan beneath. What would you do? Hm. I really did give a load on my fake customers, didn't I, I thought to myself. Or, did I? What would *I* do? What if I had a whole other world, in a neat little package, at my own disposal? What would I do? Suddenly, I realized that I had been approaching this from the wrong angle the entire time. We can't know what we're going to do with what's inside the box! We're not even that far ahead! You have been given a wondrous thing! A whole earth, in a box! But you can't do anything with the packaging, and the world is useless until you get at it! So now, What would you do, with an Earth in a Box? What would you do? What would I do?

I would open it.

Friends, forumers, fellow dA-ers, I have been playing with the packaging for far too long. I've been given a gift of a whole universe, and all I've done is look at the design on the box and wonder what's inside. But no longer. I am taking the proverbial box-cutter and ripping off the paper and string, I am pulling back the flaps, and I am going to see what is in there. The warranty is voided. My journey starts right now. I don't know where I'll end up, and I know it's not going to be pretty along the way. But I do know this: that wherever I go is a HECK of a lot better than where I am now. I've been wading in a puddle when I could be swimming in the ocean. Time to put on my floaties, and dive in.

~Seth