Making Faces

I just received my copy of Making Faces: Metal Type in the 21st Century. Making Faces is a documentary by Richard Kegler of P22 Type Foundry showcasing Jim Rimmer, master typographer, who passed away in January 2010. The DVD came with a lot of extras: a specimen book of Stern—the first (and perhaps only) font released simultaneously in metal and digitally; a chapbook of Rimmer's type designs (pictured above); a cast metal lower case 'k' from the Stern family (also pictured above); and a copy of Rimmer's font Loxley, made for an edition of Robin Hood.

In the spirit of connecting this to entry to my blog—metal type is a perfect watermark. It leaves an impression beyond the letter forms and the paper fibers. It's a watermark of type designers and their lives, of craftspeople and industry; a watermark of both time and history. Kegler's drive to capture Rimmer at work on film is a valentine in the nick of time.

Journey's End

7 years. 12 trips. I have completed my journey book. 

Sharilyn Wright, a Canadian bookbinder at Lovely Design, makes these from vintage papers sourced from all over the world. Acts of serendipity resulted: a gatefold of Asian script coincided with a map I had of Butchart Gardens in Victoria, BC printed in Korean. A postcard map of Newport Beach fell onto a turquoise sheet of construction paper, a perfect sea match. An electricians diagram eerily resembling Central Park coincided with a trip to New York for a conference on design. And a final act of serendipity ... my latest trip was to Los Angeles; as I adhered one final coaster, I turned the page to see the end sheet is a map of L.A., which is the city my parents lived in as newlyweds. It feels like I have come home.

Though I can no longer close the book, it's durable quality holds up. And why would I want to shut this volume overflowing with memories? A mundane, yet exotic, candy wrapper from the Lan Su Japanese Garden in Portland instantly fills my senses with tea, ginger, umbrellas, and a recuperative lunch with friends. I can still smell their café. Letterpress scraps immediately conjure Oblations Press, and the hour spent rifling through their inventory. I bought my yellow Lamy pen from there, and have never loved a pen more. A doily from the Farmhouse in Dunwoody, GA brings back high tea with my sister, surrounded by fancy ladies in hats and a tea kettle buried in a crocheted cozy. A scrap of a poster of lettuce from Earthbound Farms in Carmel Valley, CA brings back walking barefoot through their chamomile labyrinth as much as it makes me think of the Steinbeck book I was reading on that same trip. I can almost feel the sun on my neck. I think I prefer memory to photographs.