Finding the Voice
Of the Outcasts
Crafting a sentence can seem very different than crafting a visual design…at first. But, next thing you know, choosing the right word becomes like choosing the right color or the right typeface, and defining line breaks and punctuation becomes an art of balance in finding the right weight for each line. This ESP campaign was all about appealing to a younger audience that struggles with finding their own voice, so they instead let their music (through their guitar) BE their voice (hence the tagline "Find Your Voice"). This project was the first copy-focused campaign that provoked the question "Are you sure you're not a copywriter?" Thus began a continuous journey into the world of word-crafting.
This is a personal passion project.
No AI was used to write this copy, just a blank word doc and pure creative thinking.
Creative Mentor: Ellen Shakespeare
Long-form Copy and Design: Aaron Washington
AT HOME, I AM A FAILURE.

A disappointment.
A reason for my parents to give up on their hopes and expectations.
I always seem to be one step short of where they want me to be. I am an outcast.

On stage, I am a goddess.
An angel with a message to be shared with the world.
No one can resist my words,
and no one can reject my sounds. I pour out my heart and soul
for all to hear and enjoy.
Many come from all around to have their souls intertwined,
all because of my voice.
That’s right, the voice
coming from my ESP.

We are the outcasts,
and we will always be heard.
AT SCHOOL, I AM A VICTIM.

A loser.
An “easy target.”
Bullies steal my lunch money
without me even knowing
how to fight back.
The name-calling, the teasing,
all of the snide comments.
I am an outcast.

On stage, I am a superstar.
A god of hard rock.
I am the embodiment of rock n’ roll.
My words come forth from the voice
of my fingers and strings.
Not the use of vocal chords, mind you, but rather power chords.

We are the outcasts,
and we will always be heard.
AT WORK, I AM A CHILD.

A youngster.
A hipster.
One who can’t possibly understand what all is being done at the office.
Seasoned veterans poke and prod,
as if to make a subliminal point.
I am an outcast.

On stage, I am a hero.
I save the day with a riff
as I belt out a solo
at the top of my lungs.
Not the lungs of my chest, you see,
rather the lungs of my guitar
and it’s incredibly long neck.

We are the outcasts,
and we will always be heard.

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