Over the last few weeks, Morgan and I have been scribbling away in a Field Notes book, generously donated by Mr. Bragg, in honor of #inktober.
Each day, one of us completes a drawing on one side of the spread. After, the other follows it up with a related drawing on the opposite page. Each day we alternate who begins the process. It’s been a great excuse to hop off the computer for a little while and fall into a clean, almost zen-like, fresh piece of paper. Here are a few of our favorites!
Today I attended a talk by Justin Ahrens, principal and creative director at Rule 29 out of Illinois. The topic of Justin’s talk was “Design for Good,” which makes sense based on the fact that his firm’s slogan is “We Believe in Making Creative Matter.” He showed us pictures of his work in Africa and with vets and with the under-privileged, and it was impressive. I mean, this guy has done some really great design work for some really great causes, but I found myself struggling to relate. I mean, does a good logo really matter in the context of such large issues? Justin seemed to think so, but I struggled to make the connection, until the very end. He finished the talk with a story about his elementary-school teacher, Mr. H. As a kid, Justin Ahrens was very awkward and introverted and only wanted to draw. Well, Mr. H. saw that he was struggling and invited him to draw his homework instead of write it. This invitation to express himself authentically allowed Justin to thrive and has been an inspiring force over the course of his life. And here is where I got it: this teacher was just doing his job, but when he was able to look past the rules and the way things had always been done, he was able to do some good work. The same is true of all professions, especially design. When we look past the stationery packages and the hexcodes and see the people and the issues, that’s when we can accomplish something great.
I am reminded of Garrison Keillor’s famed Writer’s Almanac sign off: Be well, do good work, and keep in touch.
And I am also reminded of Bill S. Preston, Esq.’s famous words: Be excellent to each other.
The latest Avista TV spot took us to some gorgeous locations. From fly fishing below the Post Falls spill gates to the wheat fields near Uniontown, from wind turbines near Oakesdale to kayaking on the Little Spokane. And, finally, to downtown Spokane’s Huntington Park.
I’m not an early riser by choice, but seeing these areas at the break of dawn and during a sunset reminded me of the diversity and beauty of our region’s natural environment—and how fortunate we are to occasionally work outside the office.
Above left in the photo is Kevin Graham, director of photography at Mojo Lab (among other roles), and me capturing the sunset view of wheat fields in late August—just before harvest. Having driven on several endless and lonely back roads to find this particular location, we rediscovered just how beautiful being in the middle of nowhere can be.
I’ve noticed a lot of nouning lately. You know, taking a verb and turning it into a noun.
Regular readers know where I stand vis-à-vis the prescriptivist/descriptivist divide, so it should come as no surprise that I find this practice deplorable.
Now, I’m not talking about gerunds; I mean when people say things like “I got an invite to the party,” or “I looked through the photos and made some selects,” or “That’s a pretty big ask,” or “Dude. Epic fail.”
Descriptivists like to talk about language evolving to suit changing needs, but, in each of the above examples, a word already exists: invitation, selections, request, and failure, respectively. Clearly, there isn’t a need.
It must be more efficient to use the noun forms, then, right? Hardly. You’re removing a single syllable. Way to go.
So…what, then? Ignorance, I’m thinking. Or maybe it’s just an attempt to sound hip. Problem is, you end up sounding like you’re trying to sound hip.
This article by Steven Pinker is a treasure trove of quotable lines:
“Rules of usage are well worth mastering, but they pale in importance behind principles of clarity, style, coherence, and consideration for the reader.”
“Pointing out the illogic of many rules of usage does not mean blowing off rules altogether, any more than pointing out the unjustness of an archaic law implies that one is a black-cloaked, bomb-clutching anarchist.”
“Rules of usage should be interpreted judiciously, with a sensitivity to their historical provenance, consistency with English grammar, degree of formality, and effects on clarity and grace.”
Best of all, though, is this line from his 2014 book The Sense of Style:
“While I am fascinated by the linguistic exuberance of the vox populi, I’d be the first to argue that having prescriptive rules is desirable, indeed indispensable, in many arenas of writing. They can lubricate comprehension, reduce misunderstanding, provide a stable platform for the development of style and grace, and signal that a writer has exercised care in crafting a passage. Once you understand that prescriptive rules are the conventions of a specialised form of the language, most of the iptivist controversies evaporate.”
“A certain bishop in the House of Lords rose to speak, and announced that he should divide what he had to say into twelve parts, when the Duke of Wharton interrupted him, and begged he might be indulged for a few minutes as he had a story to tell which he could only introduce at that moment. A drunken fellow was passing St Paul’s at night, and heard the clock slowly chiming twelve. He counted the strokes and when it had finished, looked towards the clock and said, ‘Damn you! Why couldn’t you give us all that at once?’ There was an end to the bishop’s speech.”
Charles Greville, Memoirs, 1820
The rules are simple:
1) Make a drawing in ink
2) Post it
3) Hashtag it with #inktober
4) Repeat
In a Field Notes book donated by Mr. Bragg, Morgan and I will be drawing every day for #inktober. At the end of each week we will be posting some of our favorites along side our weekly Facebook recap. Stay tuned!
Last Friday, 8,200 people filed into the old Cracker Company building for Terrain 8, the 8th annual one-day art extravaganza. Terrain started small 8 years ago and has grown into the largest showcase of emerging art in the Northwest. Yeah, larger than anything in Seattle or Portland, and people are pretty psyched. My Instagram feed is packed with #terrain8, #spokanedoesntsuck, and #weallbuildthis. Terrain might be an art event, but it’s more than that. It’s proof that Spokane is ready to step up and make this city something great.
Weltanschauung (noun; Ger.) The overall perspective from which one sees and interprets the world; the sum of one’s essential views.
Morgan had to admit that she simply couldn’t come to terms with Aaron’s Weltanschauung. Sure, he dressed nice, but it was nothing more than a thin veneer masking boorish opinions, outmoded ideas, and—worst of all—a churlish manner.
I had such high hopes for 4 Design Lessons From The Pixar Team. I was all like, “Wow. I love Pixar! And I’m a designer. I could probably learn something useful from this article. Plus, only 4 bullet points? I can totally read that before anyone walks past my desk and wonders why I’m slacking off!”
So I clicked on it. I’ll let you lucky people in on the four bullet points right now so you don’t even have to click the link. Here, check it out, 4 design lessons from the Pixar team:
1. Do your research
2. Collaborate across teams
3. Keep it simple
4. Pay attention to the details
… … … If you’re feeling non-plussed, I’m with ya. I mean, I feel like every company touts that they have those four bullets on lock, but pretty much no one is as cool as Pixar. I was expecting a recipe for the Pixar secret sauce and instead all I got was a list of jargon. I guess that’s what I get for thinking a 639-word article would unlock the secrets of the universe.
When the missus and I set off on a short walk through Palisades Park last weekend, I fully expected that the trail, which parallels BNSF’s Columbia River Line, would offer up magnificent views of downtown Spokane. What I didn’t expect—apart from the fact that the same trail bisects an active archery range—is this:
I’m a bit conflicted. Obviously this is illegal, but there are some pretty impressive skills on display here. And it’s big. The concrete on which it’s painted is part of an abutment enabling hikers to pass under the railroad tracks. It’s also more than a mile from the nearest road, which means that (1) this was a pretty dedicated effort, and (2) most people will never see it. Which I suppose is part of its charm—but also kind of a shame.
Today, I bring to you one of the coolest things I saw all weekend (besides my two adorable cats snuggling together in one teeny, tiny basket… duh). MAGICAL CONCRETE! Yeah I said it. Magical. This concoction of super-porous concrete pavement is designed to absorb just over 1,000 gallons of water in 60 seconds and drain it into the soil below. Though it is not ready for colder climates, this wondrous invention could do some very impressive things in the way of water conservation.
So, CK has been in Greeley, Colorado all week, which got us thinking: “How long will it take CK to travel home from Greeley?” So we did some math. Below, in no particular order, some answers to that question.
If CK were to walk: 340 hrs
If CK were to drive at the legal speed limit: 15 hrs 7 mins
If CK were to bike: 92 hrs
If CK were to fly on a commercial airplane: 1 hr 3 min drive from Greeley to Denver International Airport, 2 hr 22 min flight from DIA to GEG, totaling 3 hrs 25 mins
If CK were to ride a motorized wheelchair at max speed: 209 hrs
If CK were to ride a Segway at max speed: 83 hrs 45 mins
If all roads from Greeley to Spokane were replaced by the world’s fastest roller coaster: 11 hrs
If CK were a blue-fin tuna and all roads from Greeley to Spokane were replaced by water: 24 hrs
If CK were to hop on a zeppelin: 9 hrs 30 mins
If CK were to borrow Harry Potter’s broomstick, the Firebolt: 5 hrs 20 mins
If CK were to catch a ride on the Millennium Falcon: .4104 nano-seconds
Safe travels, boss!
You can find some very interesting things on the Internet. Sometimes you specifically search for them, and sometimes, just sometimes, a website you would never normally care about just pops up in your browser window. That being said… *POP!* meet the peanutized version of the helveticka crew!
So, today is Nintendo’s 126-year anniversary. Those of you who remember a time before Mario are probably doing the math in your heads right now. And yes, that’s way more years than might seem plausible. Nintendo’s company founding back in 1889 pre-dates most of what we would consider “technology” (except for that one time). Nintendo started as a manufacturer of Hanafuda cards, Japanese playing cards that literally translate to “flower cards.” It’s is a slow, thoughtful game, and as much as I love jumping around and saving Hyrule, I find that there is a grace to Hanafuda that has yet to be matched by any other Nintendo game.