Compendium

My Christmas gift to the family. More than a decade in the making ... A Compendium of Colby Idioms is a compilation of quotes collected over the years. Most of them absurd, ridiculous, and completely out of context. Making this was a fun way to see the family personality in aggregate. Blurb made it possible. What a lucky development we have in today's technology to make manifest our creative concepts.

Brown Paper Packages

Never mind what's inside—the packing tape on my French Paper shipment was almost excitement enough. French had a 50% off sale and I bought everything I believed I could actually use. Just in time for the holidays, no less. The icing on the cake was the following day, AIGA and Xpedx hosted a luncheon with one of the French family members at the nifty Mini's Retro Café. I love French paper for not only offering rich and clever papers and paper products via Pop Ink, nor for their design inspirations via CSA Images, but for simply being a delightful company.

Francophile Follow-up

James Franco is sad because my designs weren't used as props in his new film. (See my March 2010 post.) It's OK James. It was a fun year anticipating whether or not they'd make it into your movie 127 Hours. I suppose there were other scenes that were probably more important to the story. Just know I'm still available to design for your next movie, and I'll still be rooting for you at the Oscars.

See Amid the Winter's Snow

A perfect wintry evening: jazz band and gallery stroll through the Flynn Artipelago Studios as the weather achieved near-blizzard status. The Chow Truck kept us well fed with spicy tacos. One studio offered mulled cider ... you really need a night like this to appreciate hot cider.

A woman made glass beads with her blowtorch; we contemplated buying a Dia de los Muertos tile wall hanging; another woman fashioned miniature birdbaths beside her kiln; and a stoner's studio had an old Mac from the early 90's covered with paint and fingerprints, but I was too shy to photograph that with all his questionable buddies hanging 'round.

Headed back to the car afterward, we took brief refuge under a tree still laden with leaves and berries, now hung low with wet jeweled snow.

Illuminated Manuscript

Marian Bantjes induces rapture. Her monograph, I Wonder, brings illuminated manuscripts fully into the modern age. Marian gives a glimmer here in her TED video clip. But I recommend you buy your own copy and experience it yourself.

This volume will sit squarely with Fraktur Mon Amour in my new design as scripture bookshelf.

Full Bleed

Held at the Mandate Press in Salt Lake City, here is a synopsis of a recently-attended exotic AIGA event: Full Bleed.

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On Thursday, October 28, the world of contemporary art and body art will merge as AIGA joins with professionals from the Yellow Rose and Cathedral Tattoo shops for 'Full Bleed: The tattoo and design experience.'

Tattoo culture has seen an influx of new artists, many of whom have impressive technical and fine arts training. From drawings, prints, and paintings to skin, the art and culture of the tattoo industry crosses traditional boundaries by telling life stories. Using the iconography of experiences, from classic Tattoo Flash to the Old West, from Asia and Polynesia, each design carries it's own special meaning.

Join AIGA Salt Lake City as we explore the graphic perspective on today's global tattoo culture. Entry gets you two drinks on us, access to top local artists, local artwork, and plenty of ink!
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Empire

New York City in October. An island between seasons; an ephemeral escape; a sublime dislocation.

Like my previous color palettes based upon travel, I use my iPhone camera; then the Pantone application to extract colors from those images; e-mail ASE (Adobe Swatch Exchange) files; and complete the project in InDesign when I return from my trip. The goal is to be open and receptive to what turns up; not to force the colors. Brownstone's are a surprising conglomeration of hues I wouldn't have selected as brick. Yet the Brooklyn bridge colors are precisely what I recall. Incidentally, the green patinas on old edifices and sculpture share a lot of attributes with the emanations from electronic signs and monitors.

My airplane reading material for this trip was Maira Kalman's illustrated edition of Strunk's The Elements of Style. I read it in anticipation of her new book And the Pursuit of Happiness. So with Maira in mind, I feel this palette could easily have come from her ineluctable and intuitive character studies. That's the thing about New York ... everyone's personality is in the foreground, but we must find something to focus on before we spin out of control. It allows you to see and appreciate everything for what it is, and then forces you to move on before you can understand it.

Original Sparks

I cannot seem to locate a seminal interview on creativity. It’s something I read in the ’90s; and I’m convinced it was by Julie Taymor. She was discussing her creative process. What I recall was she had an anthropological method of creating inside the box. By keeping boxes in her studio she would throw everything in that inspired her: a piece of fabric, books, scribbles and notes, everything. She would maintain boxes by concept, character, project—whatever is relevant. That way as she begins to push the subject she can always return to original sparks. A texture that had been overlooked until it was ready to be incorporated could re-emerge. A gesture or line that couldn’t seem to be re-drawn needn’t be lost. More importantly, this method of capture allowed her to delve back as far as she can research until she discovers the archetype, origin, the kernel of the thing she is pursuing. If by chance she is led astray, she can always undo. I love this methodology. It’s a concept that I think of several times a year. Twice I’ve heard Grant McCracken present on archetypes and it’s a topic I want to explore further. I’m interested in learning more about the intersection of gestalt, archetypes, and anthropology.

I’ve been thinking of Julie Taymor recently for having seen The Lion King musical again. Naturally it only makes me want to rewatch Titus or Frida. I love Ms. Taymor’s art brut methods. Her brazenness and nuance are covetable.

For lack of better, here is a fine interview between Ms. Taymor and Oprah. The photo above is from Sara Krulwich/The New York Times.

Exposed Grid

University of Utah Health Care's Information Technology Services hadn't updated their strategic plan in a decade. This decision-leading document needed to be progressive, confident and engaging. I felt we should be front-and-center about infrastructure by leaving the booklet's grid exposed on the cover. The spare cover also adds a nice counterpoint to the photography-rich interior. Each spread has a health care photo where technology is integral to medical practice.

The table of contents is also left exposed on the cover. The booklet is split in halves: The Introduction has an orange background; The Plan — a yellow ground with a faux watermark. The photo well and type columns adjusts with each half of the book. All images have a shiny UV gloss. UV also adorns the vertical and horizontal lines on the cover, as well as our title. It's a great finishing effect that helps emit the back-lit technology photos used throughout. Principal photography is by Kevin Lee.

Page numbers are represented in Hoeffler & Frere-Jones' Dividend, from the Numbers family. Numbers has a pixel-like quality in spite of it's low-tech origins (designed after antique perforated check writing machines) that plays well with the display face Headroom, by TypeTrust. Headroom is a mechanical all-caps face that includes a cheeky ink-trap alternate. The booklet's text face is Scala Sans.

To keep costs down, we constrained the booklet to one parent sheet. To keep the book polished, we had it perfect bound. A companion Web site can be found here.

I Wan'na Be Like You

I recently saw Waking Sleeping Beauty—a documentary about Disney's animation studio from 1984-1994 (e.g. age 11 to the year before I graduated from college). I went in as a patron of the artists ... and left having revisited the entirety of my adolescence through the lens of fantasy and imagination without any other cultural references. What an amazing revisitation. I was stupefied by the flashbacks, and emotions it conjured. It was unique to remember moments and people, but not all the other stuff. I love contradictions and this was a great one: to feel simultaneously connected to this magical realm, and yet to have had a completely objective review of that most bizarre period of life—adolescence.

It was equally unique to review my career decisions that led me away from animation. When I think of the journey of an artist and all the motivations and inspirations juxtaposed against our changing culture ... I can't say I'm sorry. I'm really happy with my life in it's present state. But it's always heartening to have cinema and animation available. Catharsis, fantasy, escape, and ultimately—confronting reality—all seem implicit parts of the viewing experience. Spectating is rarely a passive experience.

A Bible to Swear On

Fraktur Mon Amour is one of those book-as-art objects that just screams across whatever room it’s in. The patent black cover with pink edges instantly provokes curiosity. What a lovely valentine to calligraphy we have in this tome. Featuring more than 330 blackletter scripts—150 on a companion CD—Judith Schalansky has created a compendium as rich with history as the Holy Bible itself.

Gallery Stroll

Any time I can use Zaner—the lush Spencerian script by P22—I will. Same goes for shiny paper. (In this case, CTI's Aspire Petallics Silver Ore.)

This past Tuesday we had an event for University Hospital benefactor's to unveil the new portrait gallery as well as our wall of engraved donor names. We needed to represent both giving levels, but that made for a lengthy event title. The solution: a type treatment for each exhibit split by a flourish evoking: the unveiling of draped art; strolling; and even a lyrical quality. (It looks like a violin to me. Someone else told me it makes them think of Phantom of the Opera.)

The event was a fine affair, attended by people with interesting relationships to the University of Utah. A recent heart transplant patient spoke about his experience here and that really helped crystalize why we give. From the generosity of an organ donor's family, to the financial gifts that keep our institution a pioneering one, to the time commitments of our volunteer staff, it's always heartening for me to see the underlying passions that keep people connected.

Library Rapture

This is my favorite recurring exhibit. Every year the AIGA displays some of the best in publishing. It causes some serious bouts of jealousy, but also some serious bouts of elation. And I think this was the most books I happened to already own. Sigh, McSweeney's. Timely, since Chronicle Books just released The Art of McSweeney's, which I'm reading right now.

The exhibit is twice as fun for always being held at the U of U Marriott Library. Laurie gave me a short tour through the Book Arts Studio to see her recent letterpress project.

Millcreek BBQ

This is just a little snippet of an invitation I made for my family barbecue. You can never use maps enough in design. I had fun juxtaposing the save the date (left) against the actual invitation (right) which used a map of another sort. Liberty Park has a delightful replica of our local canyons as footpaths that empty out into a playful water feature for kids.

Sadly, the water is off right now as we are recovering from an oil spill that originated in Red Butte Creek and has overwhelmed our formerly-gorgeous city pond. Yes, an oil spill in Utah. A little solidarity for the gulf-coast states who are suffering badly from the BP spill right now, and will continue to for decades.

lost and found

found in cabinet

captured ideas and ramblings

long thought lost, returned

Making Faces

I'm excited to have just made a donation to Richard Kegler's documentary Making Faces: Metal Type in the 21st Century. Kegler's foundry, P22, remains one of America's most engaging type makers and distributors. The documentary features Jim Rimmer, who passed away this year. Rimmer's exquisite font families can be found at P22. My favorite is the chiseled Lapis. Regardless of the tools used, fonts are still human-made; and I love how Rimmer's fonts feel cultivated by hand.

Kegler used persuasive incentive to donate: a copy of the film on DVD, a specimen book from Rimmer's poetic typeface Stern, and a yet-to-be-released Robin Hood font called Loxley. I look forward to the eventual release of Making Faces.

PDX Palette

My personal color palette from Portland, Oregon.

Like my previous Memphis color palette, I used my iPhone camera; then the Pantone application to extract colors from those images; e-mail ASE (Adobe Swatch Exchange) files; and complete the project in InDesign when I returned from my trip. The goal is to be open and receptive to what turns up; not to force the colors. There were too many nuanced greens to capture ... and trying to pin down both steel, and wool, proved it's really hard for me to let go of my preconceived notions of those substrates. This palette is inspired by Greg & Justin's house (pink vanity, tiki bar), Chinese and Japanese gardens, drippy days and drinky nights, ceramic coffee mugs and one fabulous dessert.

Building Blocks

Asked to distill the complexities of our academic medical center into a simple expression, we developed these acrylic blocks. Color coding helps the presenter gang each layer into it's obvious succession. Fractured words span each layer. The tendency to complete the puzzle, so to speak, engages the audience in learning our three-fold mission: education, which is the foundation supporting research, which translates into clinical care. All of this to bear up the health of each patient.

The reverse side of the cubes cite examples from each part of the mission. The sides have supporting photography. A companion screen presentation was made available for larger groups, or for travel.

Flourish

Having coveted Thomas Paul's Flourish pillow for two years, I finally decided to buy it. Naturally I decide to do so even as it gets discontinued. Having made not one but two online purchases, only to be contacted later by both shops to say they can no longer fulfill my order, I panicked. But persistence pays off. Thomas Paul connected me to the Gilt Groupe for a one-day sale and I was able to get the pillow. For half price. Bonus: it's reversible. The black side was a dramatic surprise.

I adore Spencerian script, and the ornamentation from that era. Thomas Paul exploited that enchanted penmanship into a modern aesthetic. The emotional allure is inescapable. I have an ancestor who taught that style of writing and ornament. I learned it in elementary school. And now I seem to be sucker every time it turns up: in Martha Stewart Living magazine, in Alejandro Paul & P22's typography, and now ... in my living room.

More Curious Than Ever

I've had a life-long adoration of Curious George. But it's just recently I learned how aligned his authors were to his narrow and frequent escapes. H.A. and Margret Rey fled Nazi invasion and went on to lead remarkable lives. I love that they channeled their personalities and experiences into whimsical and effervescent adventures. It shows a brightness of spirit, and an inquisitive persistence I aspire to. Their books have been fixtures on my night stand as long as I can recall. I find it fascinating you don't even need to know a back story to really gain something from art.

Revinylize

Revynilize is a project by the Salt Lake chapter of the AIGA. It's one of the better concepts I've seen under the rubric of reuse—an overlooked portion of the government waste-reduction campaign: Reduce. Reuse. Recycle.

Designers love reuse, though. The DIY culture of ReadyMade magazine, and similar tribes, has been a pleasurable and inventive pastime of mine. I think the indie fashion world also makes great use out of repurposing fabric into exceptional, and coveted, commercial pieces.

Just a couple of rescued banners were converted by a local tailor into 8 messenger-style bags that are destined to be envied by U of U employees. It was a proud moment watching our local board members present the program in Memphis at the national design conference last fall. It was even nicer to have them be so eager to help get these custom-made for us. I can't wait to see the faces of the lucky few recipients.

... of My Affection

A few fine films about design have released in the past few years. None quite so good as Gary Hustwit's Objectified. If Helvetica was a valentine, this documentary is a marriage. A union of the objects—noticed and overlooked—that contribute to our civilization. What struck me most through the interviews was how crucial relationships are. How designed objects deepen our most human interactions. In particular, Bill Moggridge of IDEO and designer of the first laptop computer, tells about his father's briefcase. Well-worn and now in his possession, the case is surely coveted by his children because it only seems to get more attractive with age. More storied with age. Unlike the trendy and now missing backpack of my middle-school years—this is an item that lives on. Moggridge says he wants to design things that "wear in" and not out. Words to design by.

Francophile

My brochures may become props in the next Danny Boyle (Trainspotting, Slumdog Millionaire) movie.

We've been asked to send collateral from University Hospital for use in the upcoming film 127 Hours starring James Franco as Aron Ralston. Ralston is the mountaineer who got stuck in Moab, Utah in 2003. Pinned by a boulder, he amputated his own arm with a knife to survive. Boyle will surely bring a lot of grit to what is already a brutish true tale.

Is it too much to dream that Franco will pick up my design work with his remaining arm? Or perhaps become a hand model for everything in my portfolio?

Photo from Franco's Web site.

Vintage Travel Ephemera

While helping to clear out my step-grandfather in-law's apartment (is that even a relationship?) I was given these gems from his daughter. Disneyland Map, circa 1964; Scenic Wonders of the West photo folio, circa 1942; and the New Zealand Free Lance Annual, Oct. 16, 1939.

Opening the Disneyland map, in particular, gave me chills like the scene in The Goonie's when the boys find the map in the attic. I just love how the creases make their own topography on top of what is already a map.

The Scenic Wonders of the West folio has extraordinary texture. It could be re-created today with Mohawk's Cordwain for the folio, and the nicely textured Neenah Coronado paper for the tinted photos.

Both the hairline and script fonts within the New Zealand Free Lance Annual are back in style. the '30s had typography pegged ... that era is still making statements.

Jacobson's Apothecary

Jacobson's Apothecary is a catalogue of sour home remedies. It's also an ode to my Mom—affectionately, the "witchdoctor". These common cures for common folk include such local medical miracles as:

• Nettles Regurgitant, made by magpies
• Sassafrass Smelling Salts, from the Great Salt Lake, brine shrimp free
• Viper Vaccine, available by the drop
• Quince Flatulence Quieter, offering discrete relief, only 70¢ per cube
• Honey Locust Lotion, with black licorice and chicory extract
• Epazote Con Agave, guaranteed Mexican-strength but beware—contents are flammable
• the beesting-strong Prickly Pear Expectorant is aged two years
• Pennyroyal Poultice, cures a shocking range of maladies: from consumption to avian flu
• Poison Ivy Ointment, for when you been playin' where you weren't s'posed to be
• the good as gooseberries Baby's Tears Balm & Thistle Tonic costs only 14¢/oz.
• Great Basin Vapors and Chloroform, a mere 38¢ per squirt
• The Original Milkweed Linimint, still curing rashes

Look for an updated catalogue in 2010. With the distillery on-site, these all-natural remedies come with a certified "Real-Good" Guarantee.

Pretty Paper

My paper rep from Zellerbach's asked me to design a tag for her holiday gift to area designers this past Christmas. Camille packaged assorted paper and envelopes into a shiny little bundle so recipients can create custom notes and cards. Papers included the shimmery Aspire Petallics; tactile delights such as Oxford, Sundance Felt, and even Gmund; colors ranged from silver, marigold, turquoise, rustic reds, and even translucent whites. Camille sealed the packets with a handsome brown sticker.

The reindeer is licensed from CSA Images, and I used P22 Brass Script ... typeset in brass. Ultimately we just wanted the packages to be mirthful, but with a touch of glam, to match the high quality of the papers. Thanks to Camille for including me. I wish we'd had more time to do something really over the top. Past designers have included the idiosyncratic Angela Adams and McRay Magleby, so it really was an honor that I even crossed her mind.

National Suicide Day: A Celebration

“Except for World War II, nothing ever interfered with the celebration of National Suicide Day. It had taken place every January third since 1920, although Shadrack, its founder, was for many years the only celebrant.”

I’ll let you in on a secret … I think I may be the only celebrant today. Maybe you should join in. The passage above is from Toni Morrison’s novel Sula. I discovered Toni Morrison in college … not by curriculum but by a book cover: Tar Baby. Such a bold title—with cover art reminiscent of Henri Rousseau—my curiosity was peaked. And I was instantly absorbed. By the time I had read Sula and Beloved, Ms. Morrison was awarded the Nobel Prize. She’s essentially been my spiritual matriarch since.

Shadrack is a veteran who returned from war clearly coping with what we call today Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. The townsfolk couldn’t figure him out, but he was making his way the best he could. As a method to make “a place for fear as a way of controlling it”, Shadrack instituted National Suicide Day. He would walk through town with a cow bell and a hangman’s noose crying out to the citizens “that this was their only chance to kill themselves or each other.”

By this point in my life I was already leery of New Year’s resolutions. If something needed to be changed—start now. I already had enough waiting in the future. I didn’t need to plan to fix bad habits; I needed to repair them now. Nevertheless, anxiety seemed to follow me everywhere. And National Suicide Day seemed to be a potential solution.

Having practiced more than a dozen years now, what I like about the personal holiday is it’s the one time of the year I let go. Really let go of suppressed thoughts. Things we normally want to avoid. All the irrational things that we fear might actually occur if we think them. I might celebrate by writing down (or saying out loud, or screaming) everything I dread. And then go murder them. Throw them off a bridge. Toss them under a car. Stab them with sharp implements.

It sure beats a resolution because there’s nothing left to do. Yet it comes with the same accoutrements: fear, self-despisal, neglect, guilt. Like all rituals, it makes one feel better. It’s an act of engagement, release and devotion. And who knows—maybe one day after I’ve suffocated myself, shot myself, and burned myself to death, I’ll really be able to start living.

Ode to '09