essential creativity
I was on a plane on Friday and the jukebox cockpit jockey grunt yells out
That it was 14 below zero outside
What is this, a contest?
I’m not planning on being outside at 30,000 feet
And I didn’t pack for that kind of weather
Re:gardless, the next day I got a sore throat and the next day after that is today
I pass by the airport on the way back from Dad’s house
Sunday night/time to re: LAX
I see the sign
And the cold truth is as a father
I don’t know if I ever will.
Bridges are a small special interest of mine. Although I have done my own self-education on them, I am not remotely an educated bridge person. I know the basics and can recognize most bridge types and I know how they function, from a broad physics standpoint, but beyond that my love for them is purely visual and romantic. I sometimes peruse websites on bridges, trying to get smarter, but inevitably the math and materials discussions lose me. But, perhaps not coincidentally, searching for bridges leads me to places that I otherwise would never go: into historical records of small town America all the way to Brooklyn, London, Seoul or Brazil.
But the construction of my love affair with bridges started a long time ago in an unlikely place: San Diego. Bridges in the beach community I grew up in are a necessity for a variety of reasons: for one, the train runs along the coast from downtown San Diego all the way up until it heads inland up past Oceanside. In order for the train to stay on the coast, it must avoid both the highway, which runs the same path, as well as numerous inlets of ocean water. And for two, like any city, San Diego became a city of freeways long after it was a city of interconnected roads which connected one small community to another. And since freeways are egotistical in nature and like to cut a bee-line from center to center, all those little roads that got spliced along the way had to be bridged. So, overhang passes are a thing of plenty. Here’s the one that first opened my eyes to the magnificence of simple bridge construction, on the 805 freeway in San Diego – a concrete arch bridge of the most gorgeous kind:
And here’s a similarly constructed one, the Lilac Road Bridge, on i-15. Little different view.
One of my new daily check-in spots, Hipster Runoff, is worth bookmarking. Strangely, I’ve been listening to his show on Blog Radio on XM and catching his updates on his sites WITHOUT KNOWING IT WAS THE SAME GUY. WHAT’S WRONG WITH ME???? This is why you should not do things that ruin your brain, like drink from the cat bowl and eat only microwaved potatoes in college (always always always poke holes in it first, with a fork).
On the radio he is recognizable for his monotone voice and not-so-provocative questions, that turn out to be more provocative than you first give them credit for. It’s a style of talking that is one part plain-stupid truth, one part snarkasm and one part keenly observant ponderings of indie culture. He clearly knows his way around the music scene, but to me, it’s all about the cult of him. Sitting at the brink of popularity – a fine mess for a guy who admits he only likes bands that aren’t popular, because pop music themes are too universal. Watching him watch himself walk that tightrope is immensely interesting, even if it’s delivered in the least interesting kind of way.
Deadpan is the new exciting.
This dude, Jamie Hayon, over at Hayon Studio describes his Green Chicken Rocking Chair as a “rather unexplored shape.” I’m not sure I have much to add to that. Other than, YOU’RE DAMN RIGHT IT’S AN UNEXPLORED SHAPE! GOD DAMN.
Beyond that, it’s very well executed. It’s one thing to come up with a chicken rocking chair idea all by itself, but most all the design choices along the way are pretty interesting, too. Love the beak, love the ears, love the feathers. And, of course, it rocks.
Interesting news to comic book fans. For those of you who haven’t been keeping tabs on the Captain, Mr. America “died” a little over two years ago. The events of his death, and subsequent rebirth (“Rebirth” is also the name of the program that lead to his super human abilities, btw) are the subject of the upcoming series.
Captain America, as an entity, remains controversial. Born of an anti-Nazi sentiment, he represents America’s military at its most glamorous: protector of freedom, fighter of evil. As the definition of evil has become hazier, though, it will be interesting to see how the resurrection of Captain America reflects (or doesn’t) a renewed understanding of war and America. I, for one, like to follow history through the eyes of artists and comics are no exception. As our troops return from the Middle East, this will be a topic that affects all of us.
The first pages were released at the LA Times today, re-posted here for your perusal. The pages will be drawn by comic artist legend Brian Hitch and, aside from the political sub-text, it promises to be a whole lot of sweets for the eye.
The uprising will be July 1st. Official site here.
I don’t know what I’m doing. Am I looking at it? Buying from it? Learning from it? Being inspired by it? Knowing what day it is by it? I am helpless before it but somehow better because of it. It is Uniqlo.
I guess I just love me up some of the GIFs. Something I didn’t anticipate; becoming wistfully reminiscent of a technology from adulthood. I get my swoony love of 8-bit graphics and the sound of a Casio keyboard, but it’s harder to reconcile feeling all gushy over something that I used for work.
Perhaps it’s a representation of how far I/we’ve come since getting into Web design, back in the mid 90’s. Sort of like looking back on your first car, not nearly as advanced as your current car, but still a mark of distance, growth.
But moreso, I just like the creativity one experiences when leaning into a limited medium. All media is limited, in some respect. Certainly 8-bit graphics were. But even a canvas has an edge. Finding creativity within the constraints of technology are no different than within the constraints of clay. And the results no less effective. At least not to me.
Some of it, also, is knowing where something like this might show up: as a personal icon in a comment section, or simply sitting in the corner of a web page somewhere. Animated GIFs are like virtual graffiti tags – it’s as much where you place it as the mark itself. The technology and format of it is specific to the Web, and therefore it is as inextricably tied to it, as paint is to canvas or music was to vinyl (sigh).
Continue reading ‘A Moment in Time: An Homage to the Animated GIF.’
Weird, right? John Wayne is an icon, but so is that little picture of a house up in your browser navigation. Big, small. But in both cases, a symbol of something. But a person can spend an entire life trying to become an icon, noticed by everyone, whereas a graphic icon must often get created in the virtual world and is doing its job when it goes relatively unnoticed. Today we honor the small icon with this gorgeous set of graphic symbols (purchasable right here) ready to go for iPhone application developers. They may be small, but to me, this is still a symbol of something great.
Maybe the only thing funnier is that the word “meh” became a word last year… but nobody cared.
Here’s the article: “Web 2.0 Becomes One Millionth Word; Just As We Stop Using It.”
