where is my tomato

“Screw legibility! Screw readability! Make it beautiful.”

“No one seems to design with letterforms anymore. No one seems to really draw with their heart.”

(While ranting about people who send emails with Comic Sans or Papyrus) “‘Oh, can you come over for dinner?’ You sent it in Comic Sans? Can’t come over!”

“What’s graphic design? It’s placing things in their proper order so they’re pleasing to the eye.”

“Where do I get concepts from? I rip ‘em off. I take ‘em from people that have died. I take ‘em from … churches. I take ‘em from bad neighborhoods in Mexico.”

“We had a racket going.” (Regarding his times with Herb Lubalin, Tom Carnase, and Tony Dispigna)

I love Ed. These are some of the things he said that I frantically scrawled in my notebook during his Photo-Lettering talk on 24 October, as part of the Type@Cooper Lubalin Lecture Series. It was like being back in his Making Type Talk continuing ed class at SVA, which is my favorite class I’ve ever taken in graphic design, if not of all. Ed Benguiat might not enjoy as universal an adoration as people like Milton Glaser, but he is, in my opinion, the best at what he does, and full of such love and obsession for his craft, that he is bursting to share his knowledge at any moment of the day. I don’t know if I enjoyed learning his typographic tricks or hearing his tangential/completely off-topic stories more. In any case, when Ed Benguiat speaks, you sit and listen in awe, and hope that you have enough sense to be writing some of it down, because his irreverence and cursing cast only a thin veil over his immense wisdom.

Went to a Type@Cooper panel discussion about webfonts on Monday, titled “Webfonts are here! … Now what?”

Moderated by Jessica Hische, the panelists included Tim Brown, Scott Kellum, and Nick Sherman. This event was part of the program’s excellent Herb Lubalin Lecture Series, which is open to the public, and usually free.

Much of the talk was very technical, but it was a very educational discussion between extremely knowledgeable and type-passionate people. The panelists felt that we are at a time of important advancement and improvement in the way typography looks on the web — but also in the way fonts are licensed and used. Jessica Hische’s point that the general public doesn’t realize how much work goes into making a typeface, usually by a single person, really drove home for me the importance of fair licensing. Which is what makes sites like Typekit great for protecting type designers, as well as making things simple for type users. I think it was Tim Brown who said that now is a great chance to create a system of pricing that works for everyone.

My favorite part of the discussion was when Nick Sherman said that when he saw the iPhone retina screen and how beautiful it could make type look, it changed his whole outlook on the world. He said it in such a heartfelt manner — that’s just adorable! We should all be so moved by technology that’s beautiful and not scary to look at.

Exciting things I learned about:

• WOFF = web open font format

• Lettering.js lets you typeset type on the web!!

• Kern.js lets you kern type on the web!

At the end they answered Twitter and audience questions, and also showed examples of sites that use webfonts. This Friends of Mighty site, Lost World’s Fairs, which uses WOFF and Typekit, just blew my mind:

Real type! It’s enough to make you tear up. I am way too low-tech to implement this on my site on my own, but one day! Just gotta stop being afraid to touch my site now that it’s been awhile. But seeing examples like this are enough to change my outlook on the world.

My iPad-owning, graphic designer heart fluttered when I saw this on the Daily Heller. It’s the Society of Publication Designers design annual in app form, released two days ago! I haven’t purchased it yet, because it costs a good $20, but am sure I’ll have downloaded it before this weekend ends. Even though it’s on the expensive side for an app, annuals usually cost a lot more, and apps take a lot of effort to make (boy, do I know it), so I think it’ll be worth pinching my penny to offset this cost.

See the iTunes Preview.

I first learned about SPD through my publication design teacher at Pratt, Nancy Stamatopoulos, who is a board member. My good friend Adri Ramdeane, now art director at Bullfrog & Baum, is also an active member who moderated a panel discussion at this year’s SPD March (Design) Madness conference. They are awesome.

This issue of Wired is actually the first one I ever bought, because one of Oliver Jeffers‘s illustrations was in it. I ended up loving the magazine’s somewhat sarcastic tone and great infographics, so I’ve been subscribing since. Plus, five-color cover? Rocks my socks.

SPD 45: The Design Annual For iPad from SPD Videos on Vimeo.

It’s that time of year again! Pratt Show! It kind of snuck up on me without my realizing it. I just got my industry professionals reception ticket. I’m so excited!

It’s time to give back to the Pratt community while enjoying free alcohol and cheese. Considering how I’ve been struggling in my own way, I can still definitely relate to the plight of a soon-to-be grad. Though nothing directly came out of the show for me, it was still a proud culmination of two years’ hard work.

I haven’t looked at this in a year — my board from Pratt Show 2010:

It’s kind of a madhouse, the way Pratt organizes the show. It’s not just BFA and AOS candidates, they toss in a bunch of Communication Design and industrial design grad students in a huge (but beautiful) space. But I’m still excited to go talk to students, and am bracing myself for sensory overload.

In a way, the show is coming at the perfect time for me, mentally. I’ve been thinking seriously about my website again for the first time since graduating. And I’ve been thinking about my work, as well as this blog. It’s easy to stop maintaining these things once you’re working regularly. Perhaps being around the grads will light some fire in me.

This should give you an idea of how hard students work to prepare for the show; a picture of my room a year ago, as I was making comps and photographing them to get ready for exhibiting:

Several of my classmates injured themselves on X-Acto knives. This year’s invitation, sadly, isn’t as awesome as last year’s:

Come along!

This past weekend was good for me, because it gave me a chance to reevaluate what the heck it is I’m doing with my time. In the last month, I nearly burned out at work, spending up to 12 hours a day trying to meet a crazy deadline. It’ll all be worth it in the end, I kept telling myself. But now that the product is out in the world, in its newborn, still wrinkly state, I’m left conflicted. When I saw the app in the store, I first felt immense pride, because it felt like I’d given birth to all its designs as a result of a grueling, month-long labor. I know that that’s absolutely disgusting, but true emotions don’t lie. Yet a few moments past the initial pride, the whole ordeal felt both worth it, and yet not, at the same time. Standing at the junction of caring and not caring is not where I want to be when it comes to my work.

Friday was my day off to recover and regroup. Funnily enough, Thursday was also my day off, because I got sick. And though I was still somewhat feverish on Friday, I couldn’t let my day off waste away in bed, so I dragged myself in a delirious state off to the Met, one of my favorite places to go for thinking time.

I spent four hours there, first wandering to look at paintings (got halfway through the Rooms with a View exhibition before my head got a bit too fuzzy, but I am definitely going back to finish), then listening to the live classical music in the Great Hall for a bit before settling down with a coffee in one of my favorite rooms, the New American Wing.

And I started to think:

I stayed until it got dark.

And I decided that I live so close to the Met, and it always gives me something to think about, if not a moment to think about the things I don’t take enough time to think about, that I will henceforth go there once a week, either on Friday or Saturday, when it’s open late. The alternative is that I’m generally passed out like a potato in the evenings anyway. And when my brain is tired, listening to classical music and people watching always makes me feel better, at the very least.

Drawing up lists and rules and reminders, I know, is only a starting point. But I wrote out ‘Things I Want To Do’ so that if I, once again, find myself thinking that my day job is all I’ve got to live for, I can remind myself of the bigger picture. And I know that lately I’ve been all angsty about my job and life and what it all means, which I don’t generally do here (usually I take it elsewhere), but I know it’s all growing pains, and it doesn’t do to forget what it takes to get us there. Where? Y’know, wherever it is I’m going.

This week I’m going to sign up for this class.

This week I’m volunteering at an AIGA event for the first time in a long while. No amount of work can prevent me this time.

This week I’m buying a new sketchbook and hunting down a book about Rembrandt.

This week I’m going to finalize a travel plan for the summer.

This week I’m going back to the Met.