Forgotten Dreams

Werner Herzog's new documentary, Cave of Forgotten Dreams, is mesmerizing. Cave paintings are the original watermark ... the oldest traceable record of man. This film takes us inside the Chauvet caves of Southern France to witness 30,000 year old cave paintings. I have only been in two caves in my lifetime. Caves have that way of dwarfing mankind; diminishing how I feel about my place in the universe. The patience of stalagmites and the pristine way caves preserve their caches really make me second-guess the Rocky Mountains I see every day of my life. We have no way of knowing how many mysteries are unaccessible to us. So it's fortunate when discoveries like this are made. I understand the primitive impulse of marking, but seeing the hand prints of ancient man in such a fresh way only provokes questions upon questions for me. And absolute respect for humans; for our creative spirit; for our brief time on Earth and for our unifying desire to leave something behind.

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.

Sirens of the Sea

Judith Schalansky is my latest delight. I bought The Atlas of Remote Islands during the middle of winter. Exotic island escapes seemed in order. I was vulnerable to a seductive, yet sparse, cover. The subtitle: 50 Islands I have Never Set Foot On and Never Will conjured another favorite author. In The Art of Travel Alain deBotton tells us of Duc des Esseintes who, in order to escape the hassles of oversea travel, made an aquarium so that ‘the imagination could provide a more-than-adequate substitute for the vulgar reality of actual experience.’ The Atlas was an easy sell.

I was more than a month into this bedside escape when I finally read about the author and made the shocking discovery … she’s the same designer behind Fraktur Mon Amour, another valentine from an earlier post of mine.  I should have detected her signature use of spot color and adoration of unusual typography. Now I am as envious as I am grateful for Judith Schalansky.

I might not have stumbled on the about the author page were I not seeking a note on the type. There was none, but a little research led me to the quirky, yet sublime, Sirenne. You should read about it here. I have no idea how this book came to be, but I imagine Judith said to herself one day “I’d love to make maps”; and then she did just that.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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!

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.

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.

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!