Posts Tagged ‘printing’

His business is making yours look good

by on Thursday, September 11th, 2014

james-outdoors
Lawrence James has had many different jobs in his life, but he always wanted to be an artist.

“There’s that hope in the back of your mind that you’re going to get to make a living doing something you love,” he acknowledged. “But in the meantime there’s a ‘Help Wanted’ sign at a restaurant, or a guy offering to pay you to load freight, and so you take the work that you can get.”

Mr. James got his break when he overheard a city official lamenting the need for a sign advertising an upcoming event.

“I was new in town, renting this sad little room at the old Tarantula Arms,” he explained. “I thought, ‘I can do that,’ so I offered. One sign led to another, eventually word got around, and now I have fairly steady work.”
james-at-work
Mr. James runs James Ads & Signs out of his apartment at Red Drum Place, where he does custom work for businesses and events. His work has appeared in the Tattler, around town, and in places he’s never been.
“I had a client who wanted a poster for a party she said she was having on another planet,” he laughed. “Really nice lady, great client—I didn’t ask too many questions, and she was happy with the poster, so it all worked out.”

To his surprise, doing commercial art has improved his skills more than he anticipated.

“When you start out, you think, ‘Oh, when I’m a real artist, I’ll have the luxury to do whatever inspires me, and people will buy it because they like it,'” he said. “But when somebody else is paying me to represent their business, and they have a vision I’d never come up with myself, that challenges me to think a different way and learn something new.”

Having a regular income has also given him the freedom to pursue his own ideas, and he’s been overwhelmed by how supportive New Toulouse has been. To illustrate, he told a story about a project where he put himself in danger to take photos in a zombie-infested area of the bayou. “I’m not crazy enough to go out there by myself—I can’t hold a camera and a shotgun at the same time. I put out a notice asking for backup. The next thing I know, a doctor and the chief of police are knocking on my door, offering me an armed escort so I can get my photos. You wouldn’t see that in very many communities.”
james-w-signs
His business has been so successful that he was able to invest in a printing press—and a place to put it.

“Small-batch printing I could do myself, but people were wanting large runs, campaign posters and stuff. I had to hire it out, and it was cutting into my profits. Eventually I saved up to get some better equipment, but I couldn’t put it at my place. It’s noisy as hell—the neighbors would riot.” He rented a corner of an imposing-looking warehouse a considerable distance from New Toulouse. Traveling back and forth is inconvenient, as is sleeping in a drafty warehouse on the weekends, but neither is as inconvenient as a flood or hurricane.

“At the time, I couldn’t afford insurance, and I thought if I put my life savings in an investment and it ends up underwater, I’m ruined,” he said. Because of his forward thinking, the Tattler was able to print an edition on his equipment after the recent storm put the newspaper’s print room out of commission. “I was happy to help,” he said. “I was just so, so glad that I wasn’t in the same predicament.”
james-and-jane
While waiting out the storm, Mr. James packed up most of his art supplies, but he couldn’t resist a little mischief. Residents will have noticed boarded-up windows around town bearing a stenciled image of a kraken and the ominous words “I BELIEVE.”

But does he?

“Believe in sea monsters?” Mr. James snorted. “Nah. But I can’t resist giving the mayor a hard time. Did you see his face?”

James Ads & Signs is at #4 Red Drum Place (phone NT-237). He can also be reached at James Printing or by mail at .

More photos from the interview can be viewed in this Flickr set.


Jane Moreaux has been traveling recently, but she still manages to keep one eye on New Toulouse.