To-do list (2 March 2010)
March 3, 2010
The to-do list. It seems innocuous enough. Yet at the end of the day, you curse it. If you’re like me, your ambition always outweighs your actual accomplishment. Yet today, I did okay.
√ Items 1 and 2
Things to do to finish the fifth out of six manuscripts for a book series I’m writing about simple science activities. Topic number 5 is water. The little projects were written, but I had to organize the materials list, as well as write the two- to four-sentence long book specific introduction and conclusion.
(√) Item 3
I’m working on a new text design for a grammar-related series. The author is very organized. All of a sudden, about forty-five minutes before quitting time (which turned into an hour and a half and me leaving another forty-five minutes after quitting time, which isn’t any specific time as long as we get our eight hours in and the work done), I found my design muse. Yesterday I remarked that I wish my whole day could be shifted about four hours to the later, because that’s when I shift into being productive.
√ Item 4
These are tiny little pre-final changes. They didn’t take very long. No problem.
(-) Item 5
I’ll address that tomorrow evening. I try to write at the office, but I’m easily distracted and there’s usually plenty going on. I’m much more efficient if I bite the bullet and write at home.
(-) Item 6
Well, if Item 3 hadn’t been going so well, I would have gotten to Item 6. I have to arrive t my Curves by 6:00, so I have to leave the office by 5:45 at the latest. Tonight I did not. But I went last night, so it is not yet a big deal that I didn’t make it there today
√ Item 7
I had to pick up a few items for the photoshoot for the simple science book on water. On the list: marbles (displacement), rubber tubing (siphon), cheesecloth (surface tension), clear straws (density), and wooden matches (surface tension). Marbles are hard to find these days. I imagine that’s for two reasons: they are a choking hazard which today’s paranoid parent doesn’t want to deal with, and they are not a video game which today’s youngster does not know how to deal with.
So all in all, today was pretty productive. And I drank some tasty beer and wrote a couple of blog entries, which was personally satisfying. And the temperature reached 40°F for the first time in what seems like years. It’s probably just been since November.
Ask a random person to draw for 10 seconds
March 2, 2010
I believe that quite a lot of people, though they profess otherwise, are secretly hams. I am a case in point. If you asked me whether I was shy, I would unhesitatingly answer with an emphatic YES! But anyone who has spent even the smallest amount of time around me would beg to differ. I inherited an odd combination of my mother’s effervescence and my father’s reserve. The bubbles often win.
But I digress.
The assignment was as stated in the title above. My first victim was our office mailman, Jim. Jim was our mailman when I started my job in March 1995. We are in our second office in the neighborhood and a couple of weeks ago, Jim started his third stint as our bearer of bills and junk mail. I know him pretty well. He is a bowler. I thrust my fluorescent green Post-It™ pad and brick red Sharpie® at him and said, “Draw for ten seconds, please!” Not surprisingly he asked, “Draw what?”
After clarifying that it could be anything, he put pen to paper for a good two and a half seconds. Not surprisingly, he drew a bowling ball. I also would have accepted an envelope or a stamp. I informed him that he still had seven and a half seconds left. “Would you like me to enhance it?” Please do. He added the brand name Hammer.
Back in college when I started bowling “for real” and throwing fingertip, my first urethane ball was a Pink Hammer. It was hard as a rock and is still my sentimental favorite, even though in technology terms, it would be like surfing the internet using a 256 baud modem.
But I digress.
I took my Post-It pad along to my bowling league in the evening, where I figured I could talk one or two other people into drawing for me. My first target was Brett. I know all of his team well, we were on neighboring lanes, and Brett and I were sharing space on the same table. It was inevitable.
At first, he blinked at me like a deer in headlights. Fortunately, I had to go take my next shot, so the performance pressure was lessened. When I came back, there was the upper right nice little drawing. I know Brett likes his tropical vacations so I was able to reassure him that it was was determinable as a palm tree and beach.
The team opposing Brett’s was the one of which the bowler Tom Kasper (of Tiny-bunny fame) is a member. I determined that Tom would be my next artist. That was when all hell broke loose and my ham hypothesis gained some traction.
Though it was to Tom to whom I next offered the Post-It pad and pen, he barely had time to make his nice little sketch of the target arrows on the bowling alley before the next and next and next people were clamoring for their chance to make a ten-second drawing.
Tom’s teammate Craig made a quite accurate caricature of their teammate Gary. From there, sometimes substitute bowler Randy confiscated the pad and pen and gave them to the youngster Jasmine, a five- or six-year-old who I assume was one of the bowlers’ daughter (must have been Craig’s? because I’m pretty familiar with everyone who was on that pair other than him, and nobody else has young children), who drew the second face of the evening. At least I assume it’s a face; otherwise, it’s a bowling ball with facial hair. After Jasmine, Randy made his own drawing, the hypnotizing swirl.
From there, I tapped my own teammate Ken, who was one of the brainstormers for the Tiny-bunny ideas. He produced the second tree of the evening along with what, at the time, made me think of telephone poles but which now I see more as silver dandelions in summer—a hopeful scene from the depths of a Minnesota winter.
Our final contestant was my friend Dick, Brett’s teammate (or vice versa, depending on how you look at it), who plaintively asked, “Can’t I draw, too?” Well, of course you can. His entry was this content-looking face. I see it as someone resting peacefully on a really comfy pillow.
I don’t think any of these people would say they can draw. Would you? I sure wouldn’t. I’m a graphic designer, and I get by because I can use a computer. When my hand is required to manipulate a drawing implement, I am stumped. But in the social situation, the lemmings raced each other to the cliff.
Prologue
Huh. Going in, I was thinking this would be one of my shorter entries but it turned out otherwise. Once again, interesting what happens when you do not choose the topic.
The robot is in the mosaic
February 10, 2010
It started out as a simple homage to my favorite color which, other than black, is green, I guess, of the lime and chartreuse varieties. Green Robot is a little darker green than I prefer, but it seemed a pity not to invite him into the picture to liven up the Post-It and note pads. Can you see him? It’s easier when it’s thumbnail sized. Or maybe it’s just because I know what the original looks like.
I had uploaded the original, unadulterated photo. Then my friend uploaded his own homage which was in mosaic form and I was off to the races. I realized that making mosaics is an interesting way to develop color palettes and that for me, a graphic designer, it could be a useful tool. I certainly don’t think I’m the first one who ever thought of doing that, but to paraphrase the NBC network’s former marketing slogan, if I haven’t done it, it’s new to me.
So I went back and mosaicked several other photos, in both 50 pixel and 100 pixel tiles. It was fun! You can see them here. I like the larger tiles better. If you want to see the originals, you’ll have to look back at various days on Tweak Today—I’m too lazy today to make any kind of effort to pull everything into one location. The image titles in Flickr roughly correspond to the mission titles on Tweak Today.
I am shaping the youth of tomorrow
January 14, 2010
Once again, It???s a Baby Gazelle has come up in conversation. Really. For those of you who don???t know, I am a graphic designer and author. My writing audience is that discerning group in the U.S. who is being forced to learn to read words in books when they are six or seven years old.
The publisher who is our main client puts out books in series of six or more???eight or twelve sometimes, 26 if it???s, say, the alphabet. It???s the Alphabet series consumed the previous year of my life. But they???re damned cute books.
It???s a Baby Gazelle came in the second baby animals series, ???Baby African Animals.??? When I concepted and designed the first series, ???Baby Mammals??? (basically, middle Northern Hemisphere animals), I came up with a writing template and a design format with the intention of banging out more and more of the same, because at the time we were advised ???more animals, more animals!???
The graphic design elements were based on the flora of the physical environment in question. ???Baby Mammals??? (blue) was deciduous leaves, rivers, and dirt. ???Baby African Animals??? (orange) was safari???ambiguous animal spots, sand, acacia trees, and grass. ???Baby Australian Animals??? (ochre) was the outback???the red of Ayers Rock/Uluru, eucalyptus leaves, and the golden wattle. Sure, it looks like awesome design, but there???s actually purpose behind the elements.
You can???t see the interior designs here (though those of you in the know will eventually get a secret URL sometime before the next millennium) but they were every bit as intentional as the cover designs. And I had several more environs envisioned for addtional series???arctic, tropical, desert, underwater, so on and so forth. It???s too bad for us that the publisher has not, as yet, given the go-ahead for more of these series. The format is established and we can bang them out and make money on them. I was looking forward to arctic in particular.
Oh well, I???m not in charge.
The world is flat
November 15, 2009
(Prologue: I thought this entry was going to be about artistic prowess or lack thereof, but it isn’t. I absolutely never intended for it to be even a third the length it is, but it is. But if you stick with it, you’ll learn a lot about how I got to where I am today.)
Introduction
I made and printed this woodcut at a real-world get-together with people I no longer stay in touch with. I lived in Madison, Wisconsin, for a few years completing my eternal college experience, and for 11 years after I moved away I looked forward to my annual pilgrimage back to Madison in June (usually on the weekend before my birthday) to go make art.
Chapter 1
I went to the University of Wisconsin to obtain on my Masters degree in meteorology, because I’ve always loved the weather. In making that decision, I didn’t take into account all the math and science I had not had as an English major for my Bachelor’s degree, not having taken more than algebra theretofore. (In a completely anomalous experience, I had the highest grade of the class in that course, with a 98.6% for the term. To this day, I’m not sure how that happened. All I can think of is that the instructor was the second best teacher I’ve ever had. We’ll get to the first by the end of this story, I promise.)
Before I could even start taking the meteorology courses, I first had to make up three semesters of calculus, two of physics, and one of chemistry. I managed to squeak by in trigonometry so that I could begin the calculus. I eked out a passing grade in chemistry by the hair of my chinny chin chin. But when it came to the calculus, I failed the class.
By now I was beginning my third semester in graduate school and I had changed my major to cartography, because I’ve always loved maps and I could see the writing on the wall. The math and science requirements were less stringent in cartography, though I did still havbe to get through the first calculus.
I had managed to be hired for an internship in the university’s map lab. They knew I didn’t have any computer experience. They plopped me down in front of what must have been a Mac, because I was to use Adobe Illustrator, probably version 0.5 or something. I hadn’t begun my transformation into geek yet. Bezier what? It was very frustrating, as I was provided with very little guidance. I became convinced that the department was an old boys network.
Meanwhile, I had joined the bowling club, because one of my regrets at the University of Minnesota during the acquisition of my Bachelor’s was that I hadn’t participated in any extracurricular, social activities. My parents had always trotted me off to Saturday morning kiddie leagues, and when I was in highschool, I was in some league or other, so for college I thought, what the heck. I learned that the squad for the college meets was drawn from bowling club participants, and as one of only six women members vying for five spots, I got to compete sometimes.
(Okay, I couldn’t stand it, I looked it up. That would have been around 1992 that I was attempting to use Illustrator. It looks like that would have been about version 4. I’ll stick with my contention that it was on a Mac—well, shoot, I guess I better check that, too—because even with my zero experience, I don’t remember that the computer itself got in my way, so it surely couldn’t have been a Windows machine. What Mac model? I can’t tell anything from these charts.)
Well, I flunked that second try a calculus, too. I attempted to negotiate with my cartography advisor but he was unwilling to work with me and my fate was sealed. I was booted out of graduate school in shame. That of course meant I couldn’t continue to participate in university bowling. That bummed me out. This was the crew that I rocked out to Faith No More’s “Epic” with.
The bowling advisor—I call him that because he was not himself a bowler, he wasn’t a coach, he was simply the guy in charge—suggested that I go to the local two-year school, Madison Area Technical College, to take their calculus course and then transfer the credits back to the UW. He had no idea what a life-changing suggestion that was.
Chapter 2
It was a glorious day when I walked into Madison Area Technical College resolute in my intent to sign up for calculus.
I must have been in some admissions-type area waiting to talk to someone, but I soon discovered a spinner rack of brochures for each of the school’s programs. I idly picked up the one detailing Commercial Art degree. I thought, hmm. I was a graphic design major for a semester during the eight years it took me to get my Bachelor’s degree. I did pretty well and thought it was interesting. Hmm. Maybe I’ll wander upstairs and have a chat with someone. That was the second life-changing action in this story.
(I didn’t stick with graphic design at the University of Minnesota because there is an acclaimed, dedicated four-year art school in Minneapolis and I didn’t feel like I’d be competitive with those graduates. For goodness sake, at the time, the U of M’s graphic design program was in the College of Home Economics.)
I got a quick summary from the department administrative assistant. She had me wait while she went to find one of the instructors who could talk to me more. She came back with Chris Gargan, the man to whom I owe the last 18 (and counting) years. (Wow about the years, when I put it like that. I always put it like that regarding Chris.)
We went down to the cafeteria and got some lunch. He told me about the program, the classes, other instructors, and generally seemed interested in me. That was a complete 180 from how I had been last treated at the University of Wisconsin. I was convinced. And because I already had the Bachelor’s degree, I didn’t have to take the basics, like economics, psychology, and college algebra. I could whiz through the two-year Associate of Applied Arts degree in a year and a half.
What a year and a half it was. The classes were taught by people who had actual practical experience in the areas they were teaching. Classes were small and there was plenty of opportunity for one-on-one interaction. Computers were just beginning to take over in the nascent field of desktop publishing. I learned Adobe Illustrator the right way!
Back to the original premise of this entry, sort of
After I graduated, I worked in Madison for a year, then moved back to Minneapolis. But I stayed in touch with the Madison people, and made that pilgrimage every June.
See, it wasn’t just any art-making get-together, it was Chris Gargan’s Paint ‘n’ Party. It was in his illustration class that I learned woodcutting, along with many other methods, including an architectural illustration of an old Victorian house in Eau Claire, Wisconsin, and an isometric, exploded illustration of a fuzzball shaver. Woodcutting is the one that stuck. It was a crude enough medium to forgive my inadequacies, but the end result usually had a wow factor.
So every summer, Chris hosted this art-making party at his farm 20 miles southwest of Madison. For the entire day, you’d sit in the yard, or find the right angle on the barn, or make a nest in the field and paint the landscape. In the evening, we all came back in to eat, drink, and hang our pieces in the barn for a show of the day’s efforts. Chris was the “judge” and came up with goofy prizes in what became standard categories.
I still can’t draw or paint by hand (unless I’m using my opposite hand, then the drawings have a certain charm, I think; see yesterday’s post), but thanks to Chris getting me to stick around for a degree, I rock Adobe Illustrator at work every day.
My croquet set won the Best Balance award that year, even thought the mallet stand is missing its side supports. I got a little trophy of a gymnast on a pommel horse.
Kelly’s Unnecessary Blog 