Some might say it’s been a long time coming, but I am, at last, leaving Norwich. And not in a its-a-jolly-holiday kind of a way but a proper kiss-you-on-both-cheeks, tear-in-the-eye, farewell. I’m very sad indeed to be leaving the fine city, a place I think is much under rated and too often mocked. Norwich is home to the world’s largest covered, 6 day a week, market, a bloody big cathedral and a Premier League football team. It’s been my home for two years now and the place of my first full-time job, at a fantastic digital agency, Soak. There’s been arts festivals, beer festivals and even a Hindu wedding. But Norwich, I’m sorry to say that I’m leaving you.
I’m going to London, a long held ambition of mine, to a new job and new opportunities, to live in Hackney, the obvious destination for all trendy young hipsters, with full beards and fixed gear bikes.
When I first graduated from uni I tried to move to the big smoke, to find my fame and fortune or some such bollocks, but I couldn’t find any place to work, the recession being shiny and new at that time. So I ended up in Norwich landing a job at Soak Digital, for which I am entirely indebted to Mr Mattie Lynn who put me forward (take note graduates, it’s really not what you know but who).
But now I find myself about to start work at an ad production agency in Clerkenwell, something that I’ve always said I wouldn’t do. At uni I read a lot about ethics in design, and formed a sort of moral code of my own, based partly on the First Things First manifesto and partly on Bill Hicks famous line “if you work in advertising, kill yourself”. But this personal hypocrisy aside I’m pretty damn excited about the future.
More tales from the country-boy in the big smoke soon.