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.

Between the Folds

Between the Folds is a charming—if it's appropriate to use that word—Independent Lens feature about how origami has contributed to design, math, engineering and science. It's absolutely mesmerizing to watch the constructions that can be done with a sheet of paper. The plane can become disorienting through experimentation; consequently opening up the mind to not only dream possibilities, but to an ultimate reality. They showcased organic folds as well as mathematical. I found the case-studies about how origami has contributed to air bags and synthetic proteins inspiring. What's more, the pleasure these scientist-artists convey is authentic. I think it's because they will never lose the sense of inquiry and surprise that life, and their vocations, have in store.

[Photos from PBS Web site.]

Knockout of a Prize

Hoefler & Frere-Jones is the most sophisticated type foundry in America. Their bespoke families are precise and enviable. I can't think of anyone who can capture in words everything their creations convey quite the way they can. Reading about their fonts is proof that a creative brief matters, and can be achieved. The delight in reading Tobias Frere-Jones: Gerrit Noordzij Prize Exhibition is the affirmation of design as both business and art.

Finding this book was an accident, a gift. Every trip to Portland, Oregon means a mecca to Powell's Books. And they never disappoint. I made two discoveries I didn't even know were published; Frere-Jones award catalogue is one of them. The highlight of New Year's in Portlandia was celebrating with friends. The take-away, however, was this jewel of a book.

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.

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.

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.