Kiss the Sky

Hot, hazy day with clouds.

I've always loved looking up at the sky; not the moon, not the stars, but the clouds. It remains the essence of summer to me: gazing up at the fluffy, white clouds floating by on a warm day, with a slight breeze playing among the treetops, laying on a soft, rich field of grass under the protective canopy of a big, shade tree.

Bright sky above, darkness below.

When I'm in yoga class and the teacher asks us to meditate on some generic "happy" place (like a beach or a garden), I turn my head to look up at the tall windows that frame the tops of the trees outside and the blue sky behind them, because I'm already in one of my favorite happy places: a beautiful library. Or I think of the park right across the street, or maybe if I really want to stretch it, the park that I walk to sometimes that's several blocks away. 

Sky framed by trees.

Some big leap, I know. But it tells me that I don't have to look far or search hard for beauty, because it's always near me, and if it's not right under my feet like a patch of grass, then I can always look to the sky. It's funny that when I occasionally get pulled into a heated debate by someone who is disordered, they typically try to poke holes in that seemingly airtight defense called "perspective", something I've studied at length and in depth, and to them I always reply in the language of my constants: water is wet, and the sky is blue. 

Above, reflected below.

Except when it isn't, but then again, I also know about a thousand shades of gray, because I've studied that landscape a thousand times, too. It tends to be bring about an end rather quickly. Any questions? No? Color me not surprised, at all.

The end of day.

Maya Angelou, 1928-2014

At the library, in April.

At the library: May 29, 2014.

Nature: Bronzed and Glowing

Where are the leprechauns?!

I had an interesting week (as usual), which included walking among a profusion of huge mushrooms in a local park, grown overlarge thanks to springs' watery bounty, picking up a few beautiful objects for my personal perusal (now part of my natural collection), and having an animal encounter of the closest kind. Let's begin, shall we?

Hmm...maybe behind these toadstools?

First up: a absolutely shining, beautiful collection of perfectly bronzed mushrooms, flourishing in the springtime sun and remaining rather unmolested by human disturbance. It looked like a leprechaun's fairy tale home, or maybe the tiny abodes of some quick and unseen sprites, hiding behind a stand of trees and looking at me from afar.

Whoa! The is one HUGE mushroom!

A few specimens were of the largest kind that I can't remember seeing before, and which I'm attributing to our rather profuse rainfall. I dabbled in mycology last year (http://mariedoucette.blogspot.com/2013/10/mushrooms.html), but concluded (after closely examining a few specimens on my mom's kitchen table), that foraging for cooking would be best done under the watchful eyes of an experienced, licensed guide. I don't want a bad trip, the worst trip being my untimely death, but I did really want to keep a few.

Hey! Who took a bite?

The other plants grew with equal veracity, as this fairy circle attests to. I mean, honestly, those fairies need to be less obvious when creating their homes with secret entrances growing in the ground.

A rather obvious fairy circle. Can you see it?

For scale, I got a picture of a fly resting on the trunk of one such monstrous 'shroom. Good Lord! Look at it! The next day, sadly, it was gone, harvested by a braver soul than me, surely. I hope it tasted good, or at least provided some fun and harmless recreational amusement.

For scale: fly on "Mushroom Monster".

Another beauty is this perfect robin's eggshell, so unique in it's representation of a color that we still refer to it as "Eggshell Blue", or "Robin's Eggshell Blue", as the shelves at your local paint store will surely attest to: a classic, timeless color.

A robin's eggshell at my fingertips.

While at the park, I took a rest after practicing some tai chi, when I noticed some motion below. Aha! An inchworm! Why, hello there "Inchie". It's the season for them to come out, releasing strands into the air, looking for something (or someone) to attach itself to.

Hard to capture on camera!

I played with it for awhile, picking it up on a stick, trying to capture an image for you to see. The funniest part was a trick of light that produced a halo effect around my new, tiny friend, not unlike those cute lil alien critters from that YA special The Host, by you-know-who (think Twilight series....shudder).

Glowy inchworm. Friend or alien foe?!

Another bronzed beauty in my path was the perfect leaf, shined by nature to a luster and sheen that a human would be hard pressed to capture on their own. So inspiring! As always, such beauty awaits us in the world, for all of us to see, for free.

Bronzed beauty.

Last, but not least, is the beautiful and also obvious to spot wild onion, which grows alongside a bevy of other edible beauties, like wild garlic, other types of onions and shoots, wild grapes, small sour crabapples, you name it. There's so much to harvest around here, that I'm glad I still remember my country ramblings as a kid; the familiar alongside the extraordinary, a type of every day magic that I realize is so rare, I'm still awed by it as an adult.

Wild onion.

I hope your week is as fruitful as mine, even if it's "just" the humble country walk. You never what (or who) you may find out there in the world. Happy Trails to you!

Me? I gotta have park.

Type: Movies, Mad Men, and Lemonade Stands

The "Mysterious Mr. Moto", in an American kind of Chinese.

Today's post is a set of shots I've been collecting over the past few weeks, so I decided to post them in one, big, fat, font post. Yay! 
The first example comes to you via the Movies! channel, courtesy of the classic movie Mysterious Mr. Moto (1938), with Peter Lorre. I'm a sucker for cheesy pseudo-Asian fonts, especially authentically retro ones like these, redolent of a white guy made up in poorly drawn Chinese eye makeup; it fools no one. A fine specimen of typecasting gone wrong, and cultural appropriation. Please to enjoy!

Uh oh. "Devil's Island". That sounds bad, in a good way.

The map is cartography perfection, though. Nothing wrong or off here. A gorgeous movie opener, overall.

Good advice!

The next type sample comes off the back of a coupon I clipped, now expired, and then flipped over to reveal this gem of a tagline from your friendly neighborhood advertiser. Sage advice, indeed.

Organic is just good all around, type included.

This fontography sample came to me from the fridge one fine morning, friendly and inviting, with the perfect cheerful "Good Morning, Sunshine!" message facing me from the back of a hastily placed half and half carton sitting on the top shelf. It really is a beautiful piece of typesetting, a complete type block set right, and it's interesting, too. That's how you do "inviting" and "pretty" with black display type: it's a gorgeous piece of work on it's own that also fits the artwork just so. The former (M)ad Man in me is pleased. I'm not alone in my cause for good, healthy products, and you can see that the designer cared enough to take the time to craft a package the consumer can enjoy and also feel proud of, through an organic purchase that can feel unjustly costly at times. Nice job!

Classic Americana: the homemade lemonade stand sign, now discarded on the sidewalk, like a kid's dreams about money and enterprise

Like a children's toy abandoned in a yard, this discarded lemonade sign I saw on the sidewalk one afternoon took me back to my own childhood in the country, boringly slow and stingy when it came to money and Scout badges. We never earned enough to justify the time we spent on our pursuit, because there's one car every hour or so on Hudson Valley back roads, which is a good lesson in of itself. It served me and my brother's well when we entered the supposedly hallowed and sacred halls of Big Business in the Big Apple, which is actually our second home, thanks to our very own "Mad Man", our Dad (shhh...don't tell anyone our big "secret"). We don't waste time, because time is a commodity you can't buy or get back once it's gone, like your health. Clever, right?

The infamous Saul Bass, in movies now and forever.

I grabbed my fine, photo-taking device when this famous Saul Bass opener flashed across the t.v. screen, again from the classic movie channel. It's simply one of the best graphics I've ever seen in my life, and you should see it very, very soon. Google Anatomy of a Murder, and be dazzled. It's a humbling piece of art because it really is perfect: on posters and packaging, as motion art, as a set of static images, and a shining example of the power a great graphic has: simple and unforgettable.

"Bye bye", translated into jazz hands and Oscar worthy graphics.

Many a graphic design student feels awe seeing it for the first time, which is why I'm so glad I was technically an Illustration major while at R.I.S.D.: "flawless" can be so very daunting to a youngster taking it all in, trying to learn and keep up at the same time you're desperate to figure it all out: how can I be an artist? What is my style? Will I ever be capable of doing something like that? Dare I hope and dream, even with hours of studio time and practice? What about all that money spent? IS it (and am I) worth it?! We didn't know what awaited us in the world or how it comes together for us as designers, thinkers, intellectuals, and dreamers, and that's a scarier prospect than any business meeting could ever be, on any given day of the week.

The oft-avoided bestseller (for obvious reasons), but the book is set well.

Finally, here's a nicely done chapter opener, something I don't often do as a book designer and art director, because covers are huge, colorful and expensive marketing pieces that take up most of my time, but I appreciate their quiet strength when I see them just the same. When I do find myself in a position that affords me the time to typeset a page that goes with my cover design, I relish it for the synchronicity I so often don't find in business, because of the conflicting production schedules we have in trade publishing. Sigh....oh, well.

Design is hope made visible.

 That's it for now. See ya next time. Y'all come back now, ya here? 

Old Cars: Thunderbird

Wow! Some car.

I've written prior about my love of old cars, for their great lines and cool designs, (http://mariedoucette.blogspot.com/2013/10/old-cars.html), and I'm not someone who's typically into retro for retro's sake. It's just that the designs were simply better in the past. Anyway, since I see so few cars that reflect my taste, I become a big fan when I finally spot one I like. It's like discovering while channel surfing one day that you've always liked NASCAR but you never knew it. 

The perfect robin eggshell blue.

I don't, but that's the rare feeling I get when I discover an automobile that flashes "cool": I didn't even know I liked those kind of cars until I saw one in person. Great design, like great designers, achieve a kind of commonplace, every day immortality that's also shockingly stand-out different, too. 

Check out the lines...

Someone once wrote that a being famous designer is like being a famous dentist, and the same can be said about automotive designers: gifted, but not heralded in the same way as their work, like a clothing designer who sees you wearing their shirt as (s)he passes you on the street but says nothing. And that's the particular beauty about an anonymous kind of fame; it's quiet, gentle, but still very powerful.

The classic American Thunderbird.

Here's a pic of me, taken on Memorial Day.

Welcome back, readers. 

Memorial Day, Spring 2014.

Happy Memorial Day

Raised flag, in the Hudson Valley.

Toys: Bubo! As a Key chain!

Bubo in handy key chain form. Come with me in my pocket, Bubo!

Fans, followers, friends, family and the occasional hater know I love the original Bubo owl character from the first Clash of the Titans movie: you know, the real one, with Harry Hamlin and stop motion animation by Ray Harryhausen, who kicked ass in so many ways for me as a kid that he is a separate piece entirely. Yeah, that one.

Athena's Magical Owl.

Anyway, whenever I find my trusty, little sidekick Bubo in other forms, I dig it in a big way, and I also kind of freak out because it's so cute. Here is Bubo as a magical screeching key chain toy with glowing eyes. Please to observe:




Do you have a Bubo? If so, what does it do? If the answer is "no", then why the hell not?! Have some fun today, will ya? That is all.

Small Town America: Pilgrims and Rays of Light

Pilgrim's Deli, in morning light.

Garbage can, and rays of light.

Trees and Bushes and Flowers

The Lilac bush.

A bush grows up a fence.

The Three Bushes.

Mushroom Bridge.

A mossy covering.

The hidden shed.

A thicket among the trees.

The lone tree.

Undergrowth.

Stand of trees, and bushes.

A Hudson Valley sunset, and silhouetted trees.

Street Art: Turkeys and Misfits

$PoliticsNReligion$

"Meet me at the skate park on Saturday."