Ever stare at your keyboard, plead with your fingers to “start writing,” and… silence? This morning, my creative gears were firmly in ‘park.’ Social media posts sat taunting me, but my brain mumbled, “Nope, not today.”
Cue the trusty tennis ball and my dog! A quick 15-minute break in the sunshine, playing fetch, did wonders. Back at my desk, with a Diet Coke chilled to near-freezing perfection, I dove into my social media campaign.
I firmly believe in a balanced approach: scheduled posts, paid ads, and organic content that truly connects. These organic gems can be tricky, but often reap the biggest rewards. ✨ And suddenly, like magic, an idea sparked! My fingers flew across the keyboard, and my dog got a happy head pat.
“K.I.S.S.” It’s a philosophy that I’ve lived by for a long time, especially in the advertising world. Well, this might date me a bit, but back in college I took a photography class. Digital cameras weren’t quite a thing yet, so we were shooting on film and developing in a darkroom. I absolutely loved the class and learned so much about framing, creating a shot, and developing unique images that would jump off the photo page.
My teacher was a crusty old Vietnam vet, a former war photographer. He showed us his incredible, moving work from the Vietnam War. Above his desk, he had a sign he’d made out of old photographs that said “K.I.S.S.” I was really struggling with an assignment, so I went up to him and rambled on about all the things I was trying to do. He raised his hand in a stop motion, then pointed at the K.I.S.S. sign. At that point, I had no idea what it meant.
He asked to see my proofs for the assignment. He flipped through them in seconds, pulled one out, and grunted with a big, arthritic finger, “Ryan, that’s your shot. Look at that kid on the tricycle, giving you that cute smile… you know the moment you turn your back, he’s going to go flying down a hill, looking for a ramp to jump. The one you’re focused on is too much; you’re overthinking it. K.I.S.S., Ryan.”
I looked at the two pictures, and he was absolutely right. The simpler one was better – a night-and-day difference. I looked at him and asked, “Okay, but I still don’t know what K.I.S.S. means?”
He grinned out of the corner of his mouth. “Keep It Simple” – then took a sip of his coffee. “What’s the other ‘S’?” I asked. He just laughed and walked away.
