Drawing Conclusions

Give me a three-hole punch and a binder. Scissors, stapler, and a stack of my subscriptions … I am good to go. Among winter’s many graces are snowy nights stuck inside. I have been organizing the dickens out of my home. The promise of having a place for everything requires removal. I have shed two years worth of Sunset magazine by clipping and filing into binders to match their mission: travel, home & garden, food. I am transferring notes from my monthly Cooking Light into their annual cookbook. This is my ninth year of loyalty. In fact, I am donating three cookbooks other’s have gifted me because I simply won’t use them.

This year-end scrub up and filing fantasia is even more delightful as I completed today both a sketchbook and a diary. I watercolored the last page of my Moleskine notebook bought in San Francisco in ‘06. The first painting was on Labor Day ’08 and I have consistently painted an impromptu picture each holiday since. I also finished a wood-covered journal bought in New York last year. First entry was the day after Thanksgiving ’09. It brings great pleasure to crack open a new Moleskine (scheduled for Martin Luther King Day) and a new journal I bought last month in San Francisco.

In truth, I spoke to soon. I have yet to tackle the filing cabinet. I just don’t think I can do it without a paper shredder. My organizational armory is incomplete.

More Food Drive Campaign Photos

Results of the drive:

51,500 lbs of donated food

+ 43,104 lbs of food (by way of $21,552 in cash donations)

= 94,604 lbs of food contributed to fight hunger

We nearly doubled our goal of raising 50,000 lbs of food. Equally impressive—U of U employees volunteered 270 hours sorting at Utah Food Bank.

Bar Code Deluxe: Second Edition

Another playful bar code in letterpress. This one is from Mr. Letter's Press. It's a special-edition holiday card made for AI[Give]A Holiday Card Party held recently at Salt Lake's tastiest little boutique: Frosty Darling.

The View From Here

McSweeney’s #33 is a triumph. The San Francisco Panorama is a one-day musing on what newspapers could be. It’s newsy, but it’s also spirited, vogue, earnest, and engaging. The Sports section comes with an illustrated baseball insert that makes even me wish I was an enthusiast. The Absolut ad makes me want a martini with Zooey Deschanel right now. Kudos McSweeney’s for imagining what newspapers could do to differentiate from the Web. Whatever they can imagine, they can pull off. I don’t always enjoy their contributors but when McSweeney's goes conceptual … they inspire and astound. I haven’t missed newsprint much since I left it four and a half years ago. Until now.

Yes We Can

Asked to put together a food drive in just two weeks was it's own monumental task. Pulling it off with flair ... the only way we'd make it through. Our VP conceived the whole thing; our junior designer executed it; and I supported them with vendor management while attempting to keep the rest of our design projects from stagnation. What a relief to be on this side of the equation now.

We created a flat soup can, perforated and scored, to be delivered to every employee. A simple solution, but an ingenious one for not only creating an interactive opportunity for the message to sink in, but they also created instant decorative flair. As I walk through the hospital and office areas now, it's hard not to find stacks of our cans. Grocery bags were mailed to everyone's home with both a call to action, and a seasonal message from the CEOs. After shopping, employees drop their bagged donations off at work in giant barrels wrapped with the same soup can graphic. We designed an "I Gave" sticker to wear after dropping off your donation ... it looks like the top of a metal can. And to track donations, we're wrapping a two-story pillar after semi-weekly weigh-ins. By the time we achieve our goal, it will look like the largest grocery store end cap ever. More photos to come. (Including the dancing can mascot.)

Ebony & Ivory

Whether a duet between buildings—or a moment of serendipity—I'll take it. These chance musical murals, blocks apart in North Beach, made my walk to Coit Tower even more enchanting.

Designed to the Nines

Our third fundraising campaign for the U of U College of Nursing mailed out this week. It will start landing in homes while we're in San Francisco celebrating the award our previous campaign received. Whereas the first two campaigns were more emotional—and relied heavily upon relationships—this campaign is simple, accessible, and leveraged on a small, but specific ask: please give $9.99 in '09. (Or $99; or $999.)

Since this is our third request of the same audience, we made sure to thank them for giving already; offered them a quick status report on the progress of construction and all previous donations; and expressed the type of things just $9.99 more can provide: books and supplies, scholarships seed money; etc.

The outer envelope was designed to provoke curiosity: a hydra of 9's swarm the address field. Inside is a simple flat insert. The front side is a concise appeal for $9.99 in '09. The reverse is a collage of polaroids—the captions of which evoke project status as well as the needs of students and faculty. The polaroids float on a field of nines to both reinforce our theme, and more subtly imply the aggregated effect of thousands of donors. I designed the reverse side as a giant poster with 38 different pictures so when the parent sheet cuts down we have 16 different backs. Yet each back side covers two themes: construction, and either student or faculty needs. Each card was round cornered, like our first campaign, and then perforated for easy mail-back of the donation form.

Parent sheets were pulled during press-check as posters to hang in the various spaces our faculty and students have been spread to through this construction dislocation. Kind of a morale booster, as well as something to keep the end goal in focus.

The Caring Continuum

A year after the first campaign, the U of U College of Nursing returned to us for a new opportunity to help raise funds to aid the national nurse educator shortage. With the monies secured for expanding and retrofitting the college, our new task was to raise $12.5 million through naming opportunities for educational and simulation spaces, as well as donations to endow chairs, grant scholarships, and fund fellowships.

The Caring Continuum Campaign was told through a wide-format booklet, filled with vivid imagery of nurse educators, and compelling statistics about the impending health care crisis. We used clear varnish on Sappi's white Lustro Offset Environment paper. Inserts used the varnish to add both a finishing touch, and emphasis. A folio, reminiscent of the first campaign, opens up to a beautiful photograph of one of our nursing students. The case statement was sent out in an extra-long converted envelope to make sure it would be noticed.

This campaign and it's accompanying DVD were submitted to the Council for the Advancement and Support of Education. We received the silver award of excellence in the area of fundraising publications packages. This weekend I fly out to San Francisco to join our nursing development staff at the CASE District VII conference to receive the award.

Building the Future of Nursing Education

In 2007, the University of Utah College of Nursing came to us with a goal of raising $8.5 million for expansion of teaching facilities. With a thorough understanding of who their primary audience is, we crafted a kit with impact that delivered. A bold envelope distinguished the piece from mail clutter. It opens to reveal a concise letter from the dean followed by an accordion-style brochure leveraged on high-impact and emotional photos of nurses in action. Supplemented with warm colors and a humanistic script, a concise call to actions gives the audience the opportunity to help build the future of nursing education. A business-reply envelope made submitting donations easy. The college met their goal in just a couple months.

Memphis Color Palette

I finally found a way to design on my iPhone.

My personal project, while attending the AIGA Make|Think conference, was to capture the local color of Memphis with my phone's camera. Then I used the Pantone application to isolate swatches and e-mail myself ASE (Adobe Swatch Exchange) files. My goal was to be open and receptive to what turns up; not to force the colors. And I must say I'm pleased with the results. One stream of colors is called Mistaken Reds because I found a lot of red objects to photograph, only to discover they were browns, violets, even fuchsia. The Mississippi river eluded my perception and revealed hues that were darker and greener than the silt I thought I was seeing. This palette is inspired by neon, the Lorraine Motel, bricks and graffiti, the Beauty Shop restaurant and it's tasty drink The Crush, flowers growing between benches, monuments, and maybe even a little bit of soul.

Make|Think

One of the coolest surprises on my trip to Memphis was to keep stumbling on these markers. The conference committee tagged our theme all across town and so I felt breadcrumbed in all my ambling. Nice to have a confirmation I was headed to interesting spots. And in classic designer "green" styling ... this ephemeral graffiti will self-vaporize.

Miss the Mississippi and You

Fresh from my trip to Memphis, Tennessee for the AIGA conference, I had to post this photo from Mud Island. During free time before the conference kick-off I ventured across the sky-bridge to Mud Island listening to my iPod on shuffle to see a replica of the entire Mississippi River. The day before the trip Rosanne Cash released her new album The List. In a moment of serendipity, her cover of Miss the Mississippi and You came on as I was looking at this inlaid replica of Memphis on the Mississippi River, having just crossed in reality the model I was observing. It was a trio of Mississippis. A hallway of mirrors.

The next day we were treated to a presentation by Daniel Eatock about "circles". e.g. painting watercolors of water bottles using the water from the bottles as the medium. A tow truck towing a tow truck. etc. These are actually fairly common occurrences, but the point is you have to be attuned to catch them. That's one of many benefits to both travel and conferences: a wider view, new perspectives, a shaking from the norm.

Toner Tall Tales

My Xpedx spec rep, Gina Girardi, asked me to create invitations and a poster for an upcoming event at the University of Utah's Print & Mail Services. She is bringing in a guru from Mohawk Paper. Chris Harrold will speak about newly-certified papers and other advances in digital printing. I'm looking forward to the event in just three days, the same day I leave for Memphis, TN for the national AIGA conference.

It was easy to take on Gina's theme of the digital guru with some recent inspirations: I just bought the fonts Phaeton by Umbrella and Fenwick by Typodermic; I have also been craving to use CSA Images new low-priced licensing for small jobs such as this. The vintage illustration is theirs. Everything came together with the right sense of whimsy I had hoped for. I wanted to do something decidely old-world and not too "digital."

I love Mohawk Papers and have made great use of their digital offerings. In the past year I have used Via Felt for events and covers; Via Smooth for this project; uncoated stock for numerous small jobs; and even a digital cast-coated sheet for a ground-breaking event at the U. I love the affordable prices and I am so excited we have these diverse options available for small press-runs.

No J

I am currently reading Timothy Donaldson's Shapes For Sounds and am once again reminded that had I not been born when I was, I would not have had my name. J is the youngest letter of the Latin alphabet—only 300 years old against it's 2,700 year old counterparts.

Were we ancient Greeks, or Romans, my parents wouldn't have been able to name me Jesse. The Italians eventually used j as a long i—a consonant. And perhaps the ij ligature explains why Spanish-speaking people frequently pronounce my name Yesse. J, in fact, was minuscule first, and later made into a capital. Another letter trajectory that makes my monogram rather distinctive.

Yellow Study

Who loves yellow? Designers do! Squint if you must, but look at this small book assortment: Modern Typography by Robert Kinross; 79 Short Essays on Design by Michael Beirut; Copywriting by Mark Shaw; FontShop font booklet; AIGA 365 edition 29; Chronicle Books' Stretch Deck; National Geographic magazine; Rite in the Rain all-weather writing paper pocket notebook; Knock Knock pocket notes.

To round out my yellow study, a still life of objects found 'round the house: bed sheets; towels; Kleenex; Sea Salt Neroli Lotion by Caldrea; a project calculator; Klein Tools wire cutter; West Elm scoop-back chair; Verner Panton chair; my Tweety Bird bucket with a sunflower from the yard; and wall paint with the dreadful name: Lovely Lemon Light. Not pictured is my other basement room painted in a yellow called Gabriel's Horn. Apparently paint color copywriters were marketing to old ladies and somehow sucked me into their web. I am not ashamed. I may have cringed at my mother's yellow kitchen growing up, complete with yellow stools and china hutch. But today I'm a proud homeowner, and Mom—I understand.

Oh, and that font: P22 Brass Script Pro.

Dangerous Typography

Leave it to typography to stop me dead in my tracks ... despite the rain. Despite being on my way to a party at a New York museum to meet other designers. I had to move fast to catch this bus before it was gone; and the real truth behind this photo is I immediately e-mailed it back to my junior designer, Laurie, who turned me on to Showtime's Dexter just months previous. I knew she'd get a kick out it. Most of us designers are sucker's for faux magazine covers. For the instant gratification of using a resplendent and distinctive combination of text and type that just screams "__fill in the masthead__". Are we as serial as the cable killer in our grandiose imaginations? Looking back on this photo, taken Oct. 2008, I am seeing what a luscious mash-up of letterforms surrounds the subject. The art nouveaux shape of the Roxy; the compressed grotesque of the municipal fire lane; the modernity of the window graphic in the foreground. So much to take in. I remember the rain, and the prank. I had to rely on a snapshot to really see how much else I was missing. Including the continuity of type through the ages, both real and imagined.

Fastenation

Designers love posters. Designers also love evidence of posters. I was mesmerized by this telephone pole in Midtown Atlanta waiting to cross the street. How many concerts, programs, lost pets, missing people, declarations, yard sales, public notices—you get the idea—have hung here? Designers also love anything that fastens. This is my ode to adhesives and evidence.

Rags to Riches

Rags make paper,


Paper makes money,


Money makes banks,


Banks make loans,


Loans make beggars,


Beggars make Rags.


Anon, l8th.C.

This is a quote I came across in the Robert C. Williams Paper Museum at Georgia Tech. The museum is comprehensive and informative, yet entertaining and something you can experience without the fatigue many museums tend to induce. The most vivid memories I have from that visit are the exquisite and sculptural watermark exhibits. Despite their two-dimensional reality, they really pop off the page. It would feel like a crime to write upon a sheet of paper such as this coronation image of Queen Elizabeth II (above.)

Recycled Leather from Italy

On a recent trip to Carmel, California I found a tiny shop called Material Goods that sold some products by San Lorenzo. They have a series of desk products made from natural regenerated leather. Scraps of leather are cut up and mixed with rubber, creating a soft, but durable, finish. The notebook I bought is dyed bright orange, which matches my Russell and Hazel calendar. I've decided to use the San Lorenzo book to keep notes on fonts and typography. I also enjoyed talking with the proprietress of Material Goods. She's been to Utah before, and told me where her favorite candy shop is. Treats all around!

Bar Code Deluxe

I recently bought this gem of a catalogue from P22 type foundry. It's exquisite with it's black felt cover, deckle edges, metallic inks, die-cut, translucent sheets and Mohawk's superfine paper throughout. But the thing I had to capture is it's debossed bar code on the back. I have not seen anyone do that yet. Don't know if it's permissible, or an artistic statement on utility vs. aesthetics. Either way, it was a delight. The actual content of the book needs to be seen to be appreciated. And this collector's piece from P22 is one that will surely call back to me again and again.

Souvenirs de Voyage

Souvenirs de Voyage, published by Chronicle Books, was a gift from my friend Heather. It has glassine envelopes to hold ephemera or press flowers to dry in, and then blank pages you can glue your souvenirs to, and write about. I don't actually take mine on trips, though. I use the envelopes and pockets to hold themed bits of ephemera until I have enough to make a collage. In a way, it's like a junk drawer full of scraps I just can't toss, yet hope to be able to use one day. This spread has two collages. One, apparently, is some bizarre ode to Mormon women. The other is a German butcher and his wife. Such is the case with collage, or souvenirs, these scraps hold deep memories: there's a box of Windsor & Newton ink that I have had since high school, scraps from a german dictionary I've carried since junior high, an Easter candy wrapper from Siegfrieds circa 2002, a scrap from a poem my sister Diana wrote, photos I bought in Colorado, etc.

Cookbook as Journal

For the past decade I have been recording notes in my cookbooks. By now they are a journal of sorts; a gustatory camera.

     Bullets in the index rank my achievements. Scrawls throughout the chapters denote changes made, mistakes to avoid, and a surprising amount of recollections: the Antipasto Italian Roll-Ups were not only great for camping, but just the words Tony Grove July '04 bring a rush of memories: the toy turtle on the rocks I mistook for a real baby, and cycling for only the second time since college.

     Cookbooks also are a great way to use of many of my favorite paper products. I use Russel and Hazel sticky-notes at the back of the books to remind me "best lunches" or "worth a repeat" categories. By now, they also boast a bevy of yet-to-try dishes I'd need three more lives of cooking to catch up to. I also use Chronicle Book's fancy labels on the inside front covers to remember entire menu's. A great way to retain what would otherwise have been transient treasures, such as Jill Bliss and Lotta Jansdotter's inspired work. I even use Bob's Your Uncle page markers when cooking from multiple pages in one book. Basically, my cookbooks have transcended their utility as food resource. Sometimes they feel like napoleons of paper delights!

Noa Noa / Chronicle Books

Noa Noa was an impulse buy in college. Little did I realize it was the beginning of a passionate relationship with Chronicle Books. After I had accumulated a few more extraordinary books I started noticing this curious little eyeglass logo and decided I needed to learn more about Chronicle. That was maybe 15 years ago. Since, I’ve gone out of my way to order their catalogue each year so I’d know what to save up for. Then I started finding myself influenced by their design aesthetics. Now it’s more than just a crush—I’ve grown to accommodate my life for Chronicle Books. Noa Noa (Fragrant, Fragrant) was an easy first fling. The construction was plainly attentive and of superior quality. Font choice and layout were so complementary I found myself as drawn to the elements as I was the content. I still don’t know what the book face is, but coupled with the curious distressed script and his actual handwriting—it’s a perfect marriage. Throw in an enchanting trip to Tahiti and a mix of judiciously-selected sketchbook drawings and one might never recover. It’s such an exotic and splendid journey, art history would be so much more interesting if other books were styled after this manner.

Life With the Pomegranate

This is a handmade book by my friend Evie Marenco, circa 2005. Evie has been an inspiration to me for years, and her book is a treasure. It's a collection of experiences with pomegranates, and how they connect her family through generations. Evie dyed the paper, printed and bound the book herself. It includes pomegranate-like beads on the stitching of the spine; and the book opens up to make a star. Between the french-fold pages are red sheets of paper so the book resembles a pomegranate itself, with the little disc's like the discovery of seeds held in the pith. Evie weaves imagery from playing cards throughout, which adds graphic impact as well as an extra layer of fun and personal meaning.

Fortune Teller

After the DaVinci notebooks were printed, I sent some copies to Red Horseshoe, since the project was sort of an homage to them, at least for me on a personal level. Robert Moore, one of the principles, sent me back a lovely note and this beautiful tin plate with their fortune teller artwork on it. It's an absolute treasure. I have been collecting their wares for years and years, even ordering direct before they had online outlets for resale. When my backpack was stolen years back, the most painful loss was my treasured Rodeo King Red Horseshoe notebook. I had been to a Patty Griffin concert the night before and my notebook had poems I wrote during the show. What a loss.

DaVinci Sketchbook

One of my favorite projects I've had the privilege to design was the pocket-sized DaVinci notebook. This was created for The University of Utah as a free hand-out to all visitors of Gunther VanHagen's Body Worlds 3, hosted at the Leonardo on Library Square in Salt Lake City. Demand was high, and we re-printed the book mid-way through the exhibit run. A quarter-million books in total. The design was influenced by Red Horseshoe (dimensions, rounded corners); the art was all royalty-free images from DaVinci's sketchbooks. The cover stock is Smart Paper's Carnival Cordwain, which has a leather-like embossed surface. The insides are Mohawk, a soft white printed with gold metallic ink. The gold isn't overpowering, since it's an uncoated sheet, but it gives it the shimmer that you might get from lead and makes the piece too special to throw away. My moment of delight: going to lunch with a friend I hadn't seen in a year and she told me how her daughter got this free sketchbook at the Body World's exhibit and filled it up with sketches, 'cause Jessica may want to become a forensic artist. She thought that was the neatest thing. It was neater for me to hear.

Grandpa's Art Supplies

My cousin Karen and I went out to dinner last night to visit, and to share Grandpa's art supplies. Grandpa started painting after he retired; primarily landscapes from calendars and magazines; and did so for about 30 years. I believe all his progeny has a painting to keep. The fruits of his labor are the real treat; but Karen and I have inherited Grandpa's tackle-box full of oils, brushes, erasers, drafting equipment, a nut cracker (to loosen the caps from tubes of paint) and other miscellany. Seems all of Grandpa's passions were something that could be shared: fishing meant time together, as did religion, and he freely gave away his paintings. They've always been a delight but now they're true tokens of remembrance. Orrin Tether Colby, 1914—2008.

Andrew Wyeth, 1917-2009

A memorable excursion from our honeymoon was stopping in Rockland, Maine to visit the Farnsworth Art Museum and Wyeth Center. Andrew Wyeth is more iconic of American art (for me) than Rockwell or Hopper. In fact, at age 15 I attempted to copy a Wyeth watercolor (above) to get a sense of his method. In college I also tried egg tempura to amateur effect (detail above right.) Wyeth's paintings help me adjust to aging, the stillness of life, authenticity and letting go. His work demonstrates an extraordinary capacity for visual mediums to reveal life's deepest, most personal contemplations.

West Coast Dist-O-Map

Here is Grandma Bettie's Dist-O-Map. I can't believe she said we could have it. When we were moving her last year she unloaded tons of stuff but the Dist-O-Map might be my favorite acquisition. Just the look of it makes me want to get in the car and drive. Why ... it's only 544 miles to Carson City!

Chicago World's Fair 1933-34

My paper spec rep took me to lunch this week. On a recent trip to New York she found a vintage souvenir notebook from the 1933 Chicago World's Fair. Camille bought it for me, and then paired it with these postcards from the same event. The postcards come from her neighbor, now deceased, whom I share my name with. Jesse passed away having lived 100 years, and Camille said he'd be happy to know these tokens continue to be shared with someone who would enjoy them. Camille, always thoughtful and inspiring, has made my week. These new additions really boost the profile of my discovered vintage ephemera. Perhaps in a future entry I'll include treasures from the garage, and maybe even Grandma Bettie's driving wheel.