Terry M.
5/5
My experience in a way is hard to explain because the community of artists I've met: writers, photographers, graphic designers, and point personnel who lead team instructions during morning meetings, are each invaluable human beings dedicated to their entire craft in full. Element Three is in an office space appearing perfectly set along the Monon Blvd. For an afternoon walk after lunch, for a quick trip to a mini shop or store, for a break spot unknown to others where everything from an important phone call or time to relax from actual work, is all plausible. I received a chance to shadow the facility and meet the team. From first light, I stepped into an atmosphere with paintings across the wall and a bevy of modern office cubicle spaces positioned toward the middle. The waiting area toward the front, adjacent to the kitchen upon entering through the double doors is made for the kid accompanying Mom or Dad on "Bring Your Kid to Work Day." If of age, their access to coffee is a given. The chic furniture, high chairs, warm colors, rustic wooden table sets, and the large, glass window meeting room of course, all provide extensive opportunities for collaborative work and uplifting conversations of continuance. I felt I wasn't at work with anyone. I was in a place I'd joined with other commandeering souls who're living out their purpose providing a voice to the ethos of an outside world. Work gets done before anything else because this place isn't where employees come to give rise to corporate exploitation and false messaging, it's a place where artists gather together to shape the future of our collective voices, on the best individual scale he, she, or they can achieve on. This visit is one I'll forget never and the work they provide to their clients are a pathway for other companies, firms, and agencies to follow. Just check out any of their Instagrams, no frowns found in anyone's personal brand. Maybe, they are just all happy doing what they love and it rubbed off on me to be okay with being a writer whose voice is needed somewhere in the world, beyond where even I can see.
