The original motion picture soundtrack for my forthcoming concert documentary, Tunnel of Love, is now available for downloading and streaming. 

We still have a few months before the full movie will be released, but this album will give you a taste of the magic we experienced that night in the tunnel.

Since the sonic landscape was such a unique recording experience, I decided to interview my audio engineer,Jared Arnold, about his equipment, process and philosophy. He responded to my gig request on Elance and was an absolute pleasure to work with. We had a blast in the studio geeking out over beautiful moments of audio production value, i.e., police sirens, kids on bicycles and dogs barking during the concert.

1. What were the different types of microphones you used in the tunnel? Why did you choose that equipment?

We used three microphones in tunnel. First, a Sennheiser ME-2 Lavaliere Mic. This was chosen to capture Scott’s voice consistently while giving him freedom of movement, as it’s wireless and tiny. Second, a Shure SM7B Dynamic Mic. A great all around dynamic mic that I like on guitars. I chose it to make sure it could handle Scott’s loud guitar strumming while also capturing the intricacies of his playing. Fun fact: Michael Jackson’s vocals on Thriller were recorded with the same equipment. And third, a Sony PCM D-50 Stereo Field Recorder. That mic was set up in the distance to capture the entire sound field, and in particular the reverberation in the tunnel. Having that microphone allowed us to control the level of natural reverberation that we’d include in the final recording. 

2. What program did you use for editing the master?

I used Logic Pro X to edit, mix, and master the tracks. It’s my digital audio workstation of choice. 

3. Can you talk about your experience recording this album in the tunnel?

I really enjoyed recording inside the tunnel. Living in the vicinity of Prospect Park, it’s always been a spot that interests me. Whenever I pass through one the tunnel, I snap my fingers or yell just to hear the unique echo. Naturally, I was excited when I heard about Scott’s project. Tunnel of Love is definitely the most interesting location at which I’ve ever recorded a concert. I’m so used to minimizing ambient sound while recording––whether that’s putting up acoustic paneling to deaden a recording room, or simply waiting for the neighbors to stop vacuuming––so it was a nice change to incorporate that sound into a recording on purpose. 

4. How did you balance the different ambient tunnel sounds?

The album’s ambient sound came in two parts. First and foremost, there was the natural reverberation of the tunnel itself. But we also captured the sound of the audience applauding and participating, as well as the sound of pedestrians on foot and bikes. I’m glad that we agreed upon a naturalistic approach and worked all of this into album, it truly captures the spirit of the event.

Download the album on iTunes.

Stream the album on Soundcloud.

Listen to the album on Spotify.

* * * *

Scott Ginsberg

That Guy with the Nametag

Author. Speaker. Strategist. Filmmaker. Publisher. Songwriter. 

[email protected]

Never the same speech twice. Customized for your audience. Impossible to walk away uninspired.

Now booking for 2014-2015.

Email to inquire about fees and availability. Watch clips of The Nametag Guy in action here!

All creativity begins with the moment of conception.

That little piece of kindling that gets the fire going. That initial source of inspiration that takes on a life of its own. That single note from which the entire symphony grows. That single spark of life that signals an idea’s movement value, almost screaming to us, something wants to be built here.

And so, in this new blog series, I’m going to be deconstructing my favorite moments of conception from popular movies. Each post will contain a video clip from a different film, along with a series of lessons we can learn from the characters.

Today’s clip comes from the skating scene in Airborne:

What can we learn?

A return to the self. Mitchell is a fish out of
water. A free spirited, easy going surfer dude who’s stuck in a gritty, midwest
blue collar town. He feels trapped to the point of claustrophobia. He’s bereft
of inspiration. And if he doesn’t reconnect with spirit soon, he’s going to stop
breathing. But the moment his blades arrive in the mail, he makes a break for
freedom. The minute he starts skating again, he comes back home to pure
expression, pure creation. Rejoining in the only world he’s ever known and felt
home in. And so, the beauty of this scene isn’t just the incredible stunt work,
but the reminder that we all need our own version of skating. The place where
our soul finds expression. The activity that upholds how we belong to the
world. And we need to go there regularly. Because after too long without existing
in a manner that makes sense to us,
we start to get twitchy. The longer we neglect the fire the more we are
overcome by the smoke. What’s more, our restlessness can reach a point where it
becomes a
visible problem for the people around us. What experience brings a measure of coherence back to your
life?

Find your culture’s
binding agent. Skater
boy has officially entered flow state. His tricks are colorful and inventive
and spontaneous and uninhibited. But the inspiring part is, his creative expression gives
others freedom to express themselves.
His energy becomes
the permission slip for individual personality to shine. And he doesn’t just
attract fellow bladers, his followers are cyclists and skaters and athletes of
all sizes, styles and skill levels. That’s the higher purpose of creativity.
Not just to make stuff, but to connect people. To create a shared culture that captures where people have landed and
encapsulate everyone’s edges. When I worked at the campus radio
station in college, I experienced a similar sense of community. Nobody cared
where you came from or what your major was or who your parents were. All that
mattered was the music. Music was how we processed existence. Music was what
made college possible. Music was what loosened the lid on the social jar. Music
was what restored us to ourselves. Everything else flowed out from there. How much time do you spend with people who inspire
you?

My love will wear you down
eventually. Mitchell
manages to endear a change of heart from the other students, help his team win
the skating race, earns the respect of the school bully, and of course, gets
the girl. Classic story. And the secret is, all of that happens because he
finally finds a home for his portfolio of talents. Instead of working
small, hiding his light under a bushel, laying low until the end of the
semester, he lets it rip. He finds a way to join the club, but still belongs on his
own terms. It’s a compelling example of outofstepness,
in which an existential outsider feels unhoused and not fully at home in the
world, so he makes art to make sense of that world. And what’s really
interesting is, while Mitchell has distaste for the society in which he lives and disdain for the people who live in it, he doesn’t take such an
individualistic stance that he completely alienates himself socially. He still
brings outsider energy to his social interactions, but there’s a balance. A
shared acceptance of the status quo. A willingness to dance at the party he ended up at. Is your outsider posture
getting in the way of authentic, human connection?

What did you learn?

* * * *

Scott Ginsberg

That Guy with the Nametag

Author. Speaker. Strategist. Filmmaker. Publisher. Songwriter. 

[email protected]

Never the same speech twice. Customized for your audience. Impossible to walk away uninspired.

Now booking for 2014-2015.

Email to inquire about fees and availability. Watch clips of The Nametag Guy in action here!

1. Ten Zen Seconds — Eric Maisel

Life changing book. Taught me how the conscious production of one long, deep breath interrupts your mind flow and provides you with a golden opportunity to counter your anxious thoughts. The way it
works is, you use a single deep breath as a ten second container for a specific
thought, matching the rhythm of your respiration to the symmetry of your words.
Every morning when I sit down to write, this centering sequence brings my brain
up to operating temperature. It’s how I avoid the shanks. 

2. Tibetan Peach Pie — Tom Robbins

Tom tells a story about attending a rock concert in the sixties that jimmied the lock on his language box and smashed the last of his literary inhibitions. I reminded of the first time I saw the award winning
musicalOnce.At time, the show
hadn’t won any awards yet. Nobody was talking about it. But we bought tickets
anyway. And to my delight, not only was I crying my eyes out during the whole
show, but watching the actors inspired me to start playing guitar standing up.
And that single change completely transformed my singing, songwriting and
performing style. The more of these moments we have, the more we can
create, and the more we can create, the more we canpush this world forward.

3. Staying Sane in the Arts — Eric Maisel

I’ve read this bool multiple times over the years. Reminds me of the dangers of remaining in isolation too
long. Because what happens to the creator is, he starts losing perspective. He
starts missing out on the subtle cues around him that could lead to
opportunities to connect. And by the time his work is done, there’s nobody
around to share it with. When I went through my workaholic phase, I was
completely preoccupied with my vision, my business, my art, my career and
myself. I sacrificed my relationships by creating friction between friends,
family members, colleagues and lovers. And I sacrificed my time by not having a
life outside of my career, with few centers of belonging and little involvement
in my community. 

4. Why I Write — Various Authors

Another reread. Loved it. Great section on flow research, which shows that creators
and performers are actually motivated by the quality of the experience they
feel when you are involved with the activity, not the end result. They operate
from anautotelicmindset, meaning
they enjoy the process of creation for its own sake. That principle applies to any creative
project. Because the medium we’re working with is ourselves. Making sure the present moment is your friend not your
enemy.

5. The Last Word on Power — Tracy Gross

This book was transformative. It educated me on the idea of context, specifically, to ask a new question: What could Icreate, that
would enhance my offering and diversify my identity and upgrade my context and
grow my skillset and raise my credibility and strengthen my leverage, that
would earn me therightto command a
higher fee for my work? That’s how value is created. You keep adding to the
collection. You continually engage in new projects worth pointing to. You seek
opportunities that make yourself more attractive, regardless of the outcome.
And your context changes as a natural byproduct.

6. Commodify Your Discontent — Various Authors

Oldie but goodie. Reminded me to try to surf whatever
wave is out there. To be resourceful. Because that’s what creativity is all about. Wherewithal. Buttressing the opportunity to make art with whatever knowledge,
resources and courage are available to you. Even if that means breaking the
rules once in a while. Feeling fully resourced, and abundant.

7. Brainstorm — Eric Maisel

Fourth time I’ve read this book, and it gets better every time. A sobering reminder that art takes a long time to pay for itself. So we kept cranking out
the work. The work that nobody asked us to make. Paid today for the free work we did yesterday. We have to be willing to give our work away for free until the market is willing to pay for it.

8. A Grim Detail — Henry Rollins

His books are equal parts depressing and motivating. Powerful subtext on anxiety, and about reducing anxiety by reorienting your focus. Because”3 anxiety is what keeps
us tuned into our circumstances. It serves a purpose because it allows us to
focus our energy on the future. It’s a symptom, like the engine light on the
dashboard, which illuminates to let us know that something is wrong with our
engine. And the good new is, like most of our emotions, anxiety vanishes once
spotted and labeled. Once we name it, we claim it. Once we love it, it can’t
hurt us anymore. 

9. 344 Questions for Artists — Various Authors

A gem that I’ve read several times. Like no other book around. Helped me get a grip on my mind. Because most artists are bad bosses. They beat the creativity out of their
own brans. And they say things to themselves they would never let somebody else
say to them.That’s stupid. You can’t
just do that. That’ll never work. It’s too late. You’re not ready. That’s not
logical.As a result of this negative thinking, artists smother their
heart’s finest impulses, dramatically shrink their creative output and
eliminate hope for innovative thinking in the future.

10. Turning Angel — Greg Iles

My current favorite fiction author. Greg writes unbelievable books. Talks about how success never comes
unassisted. That every creator needs a secure base. A reliable source of
emotional renewal, nourishment, safety and security in the face of everyday
challenges. People who can serve as the stabilizing influence in your life. Individuals
who can help take up the cross you thought you were going to have to bear alone. 

11. Be Excellent At Anything — Tony Schwartz

Love the section about building your capacity to generate more and more value over time
through the slow, unsexy, but consistent creative increments. It’s a long term,
disciplined strategy, but if we stick to it, the compound interest does most of
the heavy lifting for us. Proof positive, that the best way to beat the odds is with massive
output. That compound interest is what keeps the value growing. We have to incrementally approach your
creative breakthroughs.

12. Artist’s Way for Parents — Julia Cameron

Julia has been among my greatest writing mentors. I don’t have kids, but this book took me back to when I was a kid. Because my parents were amazing nurturers of creativity. In our house, encouraging
creativity was always regarded as a worthwhile endeavor. We were free to be
mentally active. We had physical space to engage in the life of the mind. And people
were constantly pushing each other to see how far they could go with their
ideas. As a result, each of us developed the empowering habit of exercising the
part of our brain that was most original. Each of us learned how to grow up,
but more importantly, how to grow into ourselves. 

What have you read this summer?

All creativity begins with the moment of conception.

That little piece of kindling that gets the fire going. That initial source of inspiration that takes on a life of its own. That single note from which the entire symphony grows. That single spark of life that signals an idea’s movement value, almost screaming to us, something wants to be built here.

And so, in this new blog series, I’m going to be deconstructing my favorite moments of conception from popular movies. Each post will contain a video clip from a different film, along with a series of lessons we can learn from the characters.

Today’s clip comes from the wax on wax off scene in Karate Kid:

What can we learn?

The crucial calorie burning
experience. In
the industrial revolution, we fulfilled critical economic functions by engaging
in unpleasant and inconspicuous production. We knew that in the future, we
would have great rewards for our labor if we suffered now. And so, we burned
calories when nobody was watching, developed the blue collar middle class work
ethic and birthed capitalism. Fast forward two hundred years, and now we’re incapable
of deferring our gratification. We’re obsessed with convenience. We’re addicted
to the sweet nectar of instantaneity. And we’re
habituated to sacrifice the permanent on the altar of the immediate. Daniel’s
training starts with menial chores that make him feel like a slave. But after a
week, he realizes those actions helped him learn defensive blocks through
muscle memory. Miyagi couldn’t teach him those moves on day one. Daniel wasn’t
ready. He hadn’t done the work yet. Only through pain of hard labor, of
inconspicuous production, was he in a position to reap the rewards. That’s what
every creator needs. An initial calorie burning experience to set the stage for
success. An industrious revolution, if
you will, to humbly build their
physical and emotional calluses. Are
you seeking long term fulfillment or short term gratification?

Choose to make it hard for yourself. The
problem with delayed
gratification is, it’s harder to enjoy, learn, value and integrate into our
identities than instant gratification. It’s uphill psychological work. It tests
our self worth. And since modern culture demands and even rewards instantaneity, what’s the point? Well, for starters, delayed gratification, affords
us the opportunity to daydream, to wonder and to whimsy. Engaging in long
periods of watchful waiting has been clinically
proven to
create a rich emotional inner life of romantic imaginings. And so, it’s one of
the ways we advance our artistic maturity and emotional intelligence. What’s
more, a capacity for delayed gratification makes it possible for us to aspire
to objectives and dreams that others would disregard. Amazon is a prime
example, no pun intended. They’re slowly building a physical presence across
the nation, adding warehouses and pickup locations and, for the first time in
history, giving big box retailers a competitor to be scared of. Bezos is a
artist and capitalist, but he’s also an incrementalist. He understands delayed
gratification. And he has no problem playing a game to wait out the world.
Proving, that the greatest advantage is to not need it right now. How can you contribute to your reserve of patience?

Beware of downhill psychological
work. This
movie came out thirty years ago. But these days, our culture places a premium on
instant gratification. If something isn’t perfect,
now and free, we’re not
interested. And the problem is, we’re creating a new generation of artists devoid
of determination. Consider the
modern musician. She worries about being famous, not being good. She
want to be a rockstar, but she doesn’t want to learn the chords. And so, her
craving for instant gratification pushed her to cut the wrong corners. Is it
any wonder she becomes so frustrated with the music business? If only she
understood, we can’t microwave everything. As much as our ingrained impatience
demands immediate results, all artmaking requires labor, time, patience,
rejection, discipline, commitment and grit. Daniel’s journey is filled with
every one of those things, but because his character learns to accept periods of minimal progress along the windy road
to success, he wins the tournament, gets the girl and gains newfound
respect from his nemesis. Wax on, wax off. What inspires your persistence and determination?

What did you learn?

* * * *

Scott Ginsberg

That Guy with the Nametag

Author. Speaker. Strategist. Filmmaker. Publisher. Songwriter. 

[email protected]

Never the same speech twice. Customized for your audience. Impossible to walk away uninspired.

Now booking for 2014-2015.

Email to inquire about fees and availability. Watch clips of The Nametag Guy in action here!

All creativity begins with the moment of conception.

That little piece of kindling that gets the fire going. That initial source of inspiration that takes on a life of its own. That single note from which the entire symphony grows. That single spark of life that signals an idea’s movement value, almost screaming to us, something wants to be built here.

And so, in this new blog series, I’m going to be deconstructing my favorite moments of conception from popular movies. Each post will contain a video clip from a different film, along with a series of lessons we can learn from the characters.

Today’s clip comes from the porch scene in Sideways:

What can we learn?

Excessive quantities
can reduce the yield. Several years ago, I reached a point of diminishing creative returns as a
writer. I was making one lateral move after another. Running up the score
on my creative resume, but never graduating to a new level of
judgment and wisdom and perspective. Repeating a proven formula for success,
but never growing into unknown territory and creating something new. It was a
painful place to arrive as an artist. Like the veteran employee who discovers
she doesn’t have ten years of experience, but one year of experience, ten
times. Ouch. And so, I made a deal
with myself. If I’m going to execute, I have
to elevate. Volume can’t be the only boat that rises with the creative tide. If
I’m going to continue my artistic journey, I have to do so ways that excite and
exhilarate me. As a result of this commitment, my entire creative horizon
shifted. I started working bigger. The projects grew more ambitious. Instead of
just recording another studio album, I began writing, producing and staring in
a concert documentary. Instead of just writing another business book, I started
building an innovative intellectual property development system. That’s
elevation. Like a fine wine, constantly evolving and gaining complexity. Are you creating things that call on more
of your essence?

Evolving yourself
always and forever too. A pinot grape is surprisingly similar to the
artist’s personality. Both are thin skinned, temperamental, and require
constant care and attention. Both require a deep understanding of an asset’s
individual potential. And both need a certain amount of coaxing into their
fullest expression. But where they differ is in their process of growth. Because
once a wine peaks, it begins its steady, inevitable decline, and eventually
becomes undrinkable. Artists, on the other hand, don’t have to suffer the same
kind of demise. There’s no expiration date on imagination. It’s never too late to reinvent themselves. Consider the
touring musician, who moves from city to city, repeating the same set list over
and over, but never really evolves as an artist. Consider the standup comic,
who always does the same material, but never uncovers new layers of himself. Consider
the movie actor, who rides her famous catchphrase for an entire career, but
never steps into new, challenging roles. Each of these artists could evolve if they wanted to, but they
don’t. And their recycled material starts to feel reheated quickly. It’s a
shame. Fuller was right when he said the rigid, the fixed and the
unmovable will snap, crackle and crumble, unable to bend with the winds of
evolution. What are you holding onto that no longer
serves you?

An index of your human value
system. Wine is
a living, breathing organism. If you opened a bottle today, it might taste
completely different than if you opened it on any other day. And yet, the wine
is still true to its roots. Quite literally. It’s yet another interesting
parallel between grapes and art. I’m reminded of my mentor’s words, who told me that’s it’s possible to repeat yourself, but without saying the
same thing twice. That piece of advice never left me. It became constant mental
note to always push myself to create something different than the day before.
To continue dipping my toes into new subjects while still staying true to the
parameters of my engine and values. And to remember that books only fill one
shelf of my creative room. That’s the whole point of building a body of work.
Executing themes in our projects so our art is less random, and more of a
representation of our feelings and ideas and sense of life. What kind of
structure can you place around your creative routine to make sure you’re
executing against your value system?

What did you learn?

* * * *

Scott Ginsberg

That Guy with the Nametag

Author. Speaker. Strategist. Filmmaker. Publisher. Songwriter. 

[email protected]

Never the same speech twice. Customized for your audience. Impossible to walk away uninspired.

Now booking for 2014-2015.

Email to inquire about fees and availability. Watch clips of The Nametag Guy in action here!

A key component to The Prolific Framework is learning and employing a robust vocabulary of creativity. It’s a language that permits you to communicate with yourself and others about the creative process, helps you make sense of the otherwise ambiguous world of creativity, empowers you to speak a language that supports your intentions, and allows you to conceptualize and describe your experience of creating.

As I continue to publish my moments of conception case studies, each of which deconstruct an inspiring scene from a popular movie, the glossary continues to expand.

Here are seven strategies for domesticating your creative blocks. Each terms comes with a case study from one of my favorite movies, depicting the vocabulary word in action:

1. Artistic withdrawal. The
physiological readjustment required after we’ve been
addictively working on a creative project for a while.

2. Centering sequence. A
daily ritual that brings your brain up to operating temperature in order to run
properly.

3. Centerprise. A tool that
enlists unique aspects of your authentic personality to enhance your ability to
sell, making the commerce component of art easier to swallow.

4. Meaning context. Making
motivation significantly easier by reframing an activity as being existentially
painful not to do.

5. Momentum device. An elegant excuse just
to have ideas and validate the process with a sophisticated piece of office
technology, building your confidence, commitment and competence.

6. Opportunity agenda. A form
of second order imagination, it’s the inherent enterprise to notice creative
opportunities, apply force and propel them into interesting directions.

7. Safety container. A space
without circumference where judgment can’t enter, a free venue where ideas can
run free without the scrutiny of readers, critics, editors and yourself.

Good luck, happy creating.

* * * *

Scott Ginsberg

That Guy with the Nametag

Author. Speaker. Strategist. Filmmaker. Publisher. Songwriter. 

[email protected]

Never the same speech twice. Customized for your audience. Impossible to walk away uninspired.

Now booking for 2014-2015.

Email to inquire about fees and availability. Watch clips of The Nametag Guy in action here!

All creativity begins with the moment of conception.

That little piece of kindling that gets the fire going. That initial source of inspiration that takes on a life of its own. That single note from which the entire symphony grows. That single spark of life that signals an idea’s movement value, almost screaming to us, something wants to be built here.

And so, in this new blog series, I’m going to be deconstructing my favorite moments of conception from popular movies. Each post will contain a video clip from a different film, along with a series of lessons we can learn from the characters.

Today’s clip comes from the pencil scene in Dark Knight:

What can we learn?

You are what you
charge. Years ago, one of my books was featured in a major international
publication. I was so elated, I nearly pissed myself. And I remember buying a
copy of the paper from the newsstand and bringing it to my mentor’s office. He took one look
at the article and said, you just doubled
your fee. Really? Just like that? Turns out, he was right. Artists raise
their fee when they raise their value. Not when they need to make more money. Not
when their landlord hikes up the rent. Not when the client offers to pay more. And
not when their friends start raising their fees. When they raise their value. And so, the goal is to constantly seek out
experiences and projects and accomplishments worth pointing to. Opportunities
that raise your value, no matter what. That way, your self worth is not subject
to negotiation. That way, when you pull your chair up to the table, there’s no
guilt around asking to be paid what you’re worth. Joker may be an insane, evil freak,
but he’s also a criminal mastermind with a sound, lucid strategy for solving
the mob’s jurisdiction problem. Joker knows his value, and he asks to be
compensated accordingly. Because if you’re good at something, never do it for
free. Does a lower fee make you more affordable, or less attractive?

Schedule time to do
business. Watterson famously said that his purpose in
writing cartoons was to say things, not to sell things. I’ve always felt the
same way, although as I grow as a creator, I know that every artist has
to admit they’re in business for themselves. If we intend to contribute to the
world’s reservoir of truth and beauty, we should also insist that the world
contributes to our reservoir of
dollars and cents. Otherwise our overriding sense of mission prevents
me from doing business. When I first started my company, I knew money was the
inevitable hurdle I was going to have to vault. And so,

my mentor forced me to spend two hours a day, every day, asking
customers to buy. In person, over the phone, via email, it didn’t matter. Every morning from nine to eleven, I put on my sales hat. And I hated every goddamn
minute of it. Assigning monetary value to my intellectual property tied my guts
into knots. In fact, every time I picked up the phone, I prayed for the call to
go to voicemail. But that standing daily appointment was exactly what I needed
to grow as an artist. Joker, on the other hand, doesn’t have such anxieties. He
saunters into the room laughing and doing magic tricks. Those mobsters didn’t
stand a chance. We should all be so confident in the selling arena. Is the problem that they can’t afford you,
or that they don’t understand how they can afford you?

What business could
you be in? Everyone diversifies. Even comic book villains. Being religious
about how you make your money is the quickest way to go out of business.
Successful artists and creators engage the muscle of yes. Instead of locking
themselves into limited concepts of how they earn, they stay engaged with the
growing list of financial avenues that are available to them. The modern
musician, for example, can make money in any number of venues, including giving
music lessons, performing at church services, playing background music for
theater, releasing albums under multiple monikers, selling songs to other
artists, managing other musicians, earning online streaming royalties, building
digital products and subscription programs, writing commissioned pieces,
arrange charts for bands, selling band merchandise, writing sheet music, selling
songs to music libraries, creating ringtones, earning collaboration royalties,
selling website advertising and licensing songs for commercials. As long as
they keep a finger on the pulse of their various streams of musician income,
they can stay afloat. Because every opportunity is another chance to get paid
to do the things they love. Are you
governing your growth by insisting you never diversify?

What did you learn?

* * * *

Scott Ginsberg

That Guy with the Nametag

Author. Speaker. Strategist. Filmmaker. Publisher. Songwriter. 

[email protected]

Never the same speech twice. Customized for your audience. Impossible to walk away uninspired.

Now booking for 2014-2015.

Email to inquire about fees and availability. Watch clips of The Nametag Guy in action here!

Carson Daly started to wonder recently, does wearing a nametag make you friendlier?

It all started after he had a funny interaction with a woman visiting the studio who happened to be wearing a nametag. When he used her name in conversation, he was blown away by her reaction.

“She just stopped and she was in shock, she was stunned that I knew her name,” he remembers. 

The moment was such a nice surprise that Carson was inspired to suggest a little social experiment: Wear a nametag all day, and see what happens. 

And so, as The Today Show started The Great Nametag Experiment, they sought out an expert to give me some pointers. Their producer simply googled the word “nametag,” and found yours truly.

We had an awesome time shooting the segment. I especially enjoying critiquing Meena Duerson’s handwriting on her nametag.

Thanks for thinking of me.

Visit NBCNews.com for breaking news, world news, and news about the economy

* * * *

Scott Ginsberg

That Guy with the Nametag

Author. Speaker. Strategist. Filmmaker. Publisher. Songwriter. 

[email protected]

Never the same speech twice. Customized for your audience. Impossible to walk away uninspired.

Now booking for 2014-2015.

Email to inquire about fees and availability. Watch clips of The Nametag Guy in action here!

All creativity begins with the moment of conception.

That little piece of kindling that gets the fire going. That initial source of inspiration that takes on a life of its own. That single note from which the entire symphony grows. That single spark of life that signals an idea’s movement value, almost screaming to us, something wants to be built here.

And so, in this new blog series, I’m going to be deconstructing my favorite moments of conception from popular movies. Each post will contain a video clip from a different film, along with a series of lessons we can learn from the characters.

Today’s clip comes from the seminar scene scene in Little Miss Sunshine:

What can we learn?

Anchor what you
create to probability. Every artist works in the dark. Everything we make
is an arrow shot into eternity. And every time we share our work with the
world, there’s no telling which pieces will get heard, paid, recognized or
criticized. It’s just another day of dropping the rose petal down a canyon,
waiting for the echo. The hard part is, sometimes the echo vibrates instantly,
stroking our egos and satisfying our need for immediate gratification. Sometimes the echo sounds completely different than we anticipated, illuminating an
unexpected vision of our creative future. And sometimes the echo never comes
at all, humbly reminding us that so many things in life just go away. That’s
art. We’re making public bets with our imagination. And so, the joy has to come from
the work itself, not the impression it makes on the world. And if something
doesn’t succeed, we keep adding to the collection. We keep increasing our
creative capital. Because while every rose has its thorn, not every petal has
its echo. Sometimes all we hear at the end of our performance are a few chairs
scraping the community college floor. Are you looking within to
validate your work, or letting others define your reality?

What’s the sound of
no hands clapping? Richard is striving to build a career as a motivational
speaker and life coach. He maintains unshakeable confidence in his personal
development program, which preaches mantras like leaving loserhood and rejecting
rejection. But the marketplace views his philosophy as annoyingly
unoriginal. His business partner says that nobody is interested in turning his nine
step program into a book. And yet, he vows to redouble his efforts. He never
gives up. He even takes a moped over to his partner’s hotel and confronts him,
but to no avail. Richard’s character is completely pathetic, and that’s why you
empathize with him. Because every performer has been there before. We’re
convinced our work will evoke an active resonance, only to watch it garner a
dull thud. We’re anticipating watching the crowd reach new heights of hysteria,
only to watch them staring down at their phones the whole time. It’s all part
of the inevitable mindfuckery of the creative process. And the best way to inoculate ourselves against that devastation
is to expect nothing. To release our addiction to outcomes. Are
you still living life perpetually poised in a ballet of expectation?

Will my sweat be sold
as elixir? Richard is living life on spec.Living and dying by every gig
he gets. Butthe ambient pressure of not knowing where his next meal is
coming from is starting to wear on him. And if he doesn’t solve the problem of
livelihood and secure a measure of comfort soon, his family will be in a world
of pain. Sound familiar? Most artists can relate.Because we all live in fear of the work drying up. We all
understandfeast
or famine cycles.We all know how it feelstossing coins in the wishing well, hoping bills will float
to the surface. It’s murder out there.And so,every
creator needs to keep one eye cocked to the commercial possibilities of their
work. Because despite our romantic and altruistic wirings, if we’re not
prepared to pursue any financial avenues that are available to us, we may not
be able to underwrite our creative endeavors. The secret, then, is working out
our own brand of compromise. Reconciling our own commercial efforts. Doing what
it takes to still be okay with ourselves.Eddie Izzard, standup comedian, actor and writer,
recently said during aninterviewthat he was a creativist
as opposed to a capitalist. Capitalists make things to make money, he said, but
creativists make money to make things. Now there’s a brand of compromise I could
get behind.Are you remembering toresolve
the economic problem of livelihood?’

What did you learn?

* * * *

Scott Ginsberg

That Guy with the Nametag

Author. Speaker. Strategist. Filmmaker. Publisher. Songwriter. 

[email protected]

Never the same speech twice. Customized for your audience. Impossible to walk away uninspired.

Now booking for 2014-2015.

Email to inquire about fees and availability. Watch clips of The Nametag Guy in action here!

All creativity begins with the moment of conception.

That little piece of kindling that gets the fire going. That initial source of inspiration that takes on a life of its own. That single note from which the entire symphony grows. That single spark of life that signals an idea’s movement value, almost screaming to us, something wants to be built here.

And so, in this new blog series, I’m going to be deconstructing my favorite moments of conception from popular movies. Each post will contain a video clip from a different film, along with a series of lessons we can learn from the characters.

Today’s clip comes from the cups scene scene in Pitch Perfect:

What can we learn?

Create a holy shit
moment.Beca, like any good artist, is going find a way to be herself.
Competitive acappella may not be her ideal creative activity, but she’s
determined to exist in a manner that makes sense to her. To belong on her own
terms. And her audition does just that. Her song defies convention, opting out
of the traditional audition number. Her song leverages her immediate
surroundings, transforming a mundane item into a memorable instrument. Her song
creates a surprise, breaking the patterns and expectations of the judges. And
her performance sets off a chemical reaction in the audience, one that that triggers
alertness, snaps their brains to attention and sears the moment into their
memories. It’s a holy shit moment. An intentional point of over delivery. An
interaction undeniably soaked in wow, that people can’t help pick her. The
captain doesn’t even approve, but she yields nonetheless due to the team
desperate need for new talent. It’s a pitch perfect example ofstoppingpower versus staying power.
Because the effectiveness of a performance isn’t dependent on its longevity,
rather, its ability to evoke emotion in the moment.What could you do that would be a welcome surprise?

Adversity exercises
the creative muscle. Beca is an introverted, introspective and independent
soul. Her dream is to pursue a career in music making, not music performing. That’s why she works the overnight shift
the school radio station and spends her spare time making mashup mixes of
popular songs. That’s her creative territory. But when necessity comes
knocking at her door, she has no choice but to get out from behind the
computer, get up in front of complete strangers, and crack herself wide open. This
scene is a deeply vulnerable moment. But most auditions are like that. They’re cold, unfamiliar and intimate. And that’s a good thing. Because no artist will ever
come to discover themselves except as a outcome of disclosing themselves to others. Creativity is a series of long, meandering
journeys of discovery. And the more detours we take, the better. It shapes our
work. Carlin once said that if you don’t get up in front of people every day of
your life, you’ll never learn who you are. He’s right. Without a collision
between our work and the outside world, we’re the tree in the forest that
nobody hears. Are you avoiding the
emotional risk associated with live encounters?

It costs nothing to
encourage. Every artist needs that first person to take them seriously. Someone
who believes in them more than they believe in themselves. Someone to make
their creative experience immediately available to them. Even if that person
only comes into their life for a brief moment. I remember the first presentation
I ever gave about wearing nametags. After my talk, a retired ninety year old surgeon from the audience approached the stage, pulled me aside, looked me
straight in the eye and said, you need to
quit your job and become a public speaker. Talk about market feedback.
Truth is, I wasn’t expecting to hit a
homerun on that day. I was just grateful for the chance to play. Fortunately, the
good doctor helped show me
what I couldn’t see for myself. And it change the trajectory of my career
forever. That single decisive interaction compelled me to take a massive
risk in my creative life, the dividends of which I’m still collecting today. Who
was the first stand for your greatness?

What did you learn?

* * * *

Scott Ginsberg

That Guy with the Nametag

Author. Speaker. Strategist. Filmmaker. Publisher. Songwriter. 

[email protected]

Never the same speech twice. Customized for your audience. Impossible to walk away uninspired.

Now booking for 2014-2015.

Email to inquire about fees and availability. Watch clips of The Nametag Guy in action here!