iGutenberg

This charming infographic spans two and one-half millennia of printing. From China's wood type to Germany's Gutenberg Bible to the good old American iPad. I've had my iPad less than a month and am still in the honeymoon phase. It's the perfect format for magazines, and magazine reading. I love the seamless nature of leaving an article to visit a Web site and promptly returning. I love the layout options and dynamic content expressions without the commotion of Web publishing. It's another example of every day magic.

The graphic is produced by Visual Loop and designed by Flávia Marinho.

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.

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.

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.

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.