January 14th, 2011 8:15pm
I was recently listening to some Ornette Coleman and the thought crossed my mind of when it was that I
became aware of jazz music. As a kid I always enjoyed The Little Rascals shorts, in particular the ragtime
jazz and how an entire film could have so much drama without much dialogue. The music did most of the
work. I also loved anything Looney Tunes related and burned hundreds of hours of cartoon shorts and music
cues into my memory. Characters, dialogue, the simple facial expressions and how dark Bugs Bunny really
was. Carl Stalling is a genius.
I also recall when I was around seven, my mom gave me a box of miniature books she'd found at a garage
sale. They wound being about 10 anthologies of Charles Schulz's "Peanuts" comic strips.
I had already seen the Christmas special, The Great Pumpkin and the Thanksgiving special several times.
Being familiar with those cartoons helped give voice to every character in the Peanuts books I was racing
through. For awhile there, Peanuts became my favorite thing. I made a hook rug kit of Snoopy and hung it on
my wall. When I was deathly ill one summer I watched "Snoopy, Please Come Home" and cried while doing
so. While my cool best friend up the street had parents who bought him the Snoopy snow cone machine, my
parents bought me the Charlie Brown trash can instead. Very utilitarian. I had that trash can well into my late
20's. After it finally rusted, I believe I gave it a burial.
I eventually lost interest somewhere around "It's Flashbeagle, Charlie Brown," but have not yet failed in
watching the Halloween and Christmas specials at their respective times of year. The Christmas special is
sacred and the Halloween show is ritual. It IS Halloween time when Charlie Brown is on. It IS Christmas time
when Charlie Brown is on. These two things had become part of my history. They have both always been in
my life. Vince Guaraldi. Piano player / composer. Listen to his score for the Christmas Special and try to deny
the feelings it stirs. Soft and delicate... swings and relaxes. It evokes winter and youth and an innocence akin
to Norman Rockwell. Remove it as a score to a cartoon and on it's own it is simply beautiful music. Same
thing for the Halloween special. Dig the funk of the track "Little Birdie" from the Thanksgiving special. We
often never think of cartoons as being anything other than simple entertainment. In my case, it helped fuel an
interest in music that has not abated.
I mention all this also because Schulz's Peanuts cartoon is turning sixty this week. Schulz passed away
during the first year I became a teacher. To honor him, I decided to have my class rake up some leaves and
then dive into them. If you've lived anywhere on the world where the leaves turn brown in fall, it was a
right-of-passage. What I discovered was that many of my students had never jumped in leaves -- ever. That
changed fast. The class punk rock kid would do a skank flip into the pile. The class cool chicks dove in
without being asked. The emo guys jumped. Some declined, siting that they could do without weevils in their
hair, thank you. Everyone had their own style. Even Mr. Pickles dove in. A few years ago I bruised two of my
ribs jumping in. Nothing you can do about rib pain except ride it out. It was so worth it though. Jazz music and
leave jumping. Thanks Mr. Schulz.
I was recently listening to some Ornette Coleman and the thought crossed my mind of when it was that I
became aware of jazz music. As a kid I always enjoyed The Little Rascals shorts, in particular the ragtime
jazz and how an entire film could have so much drama without much dialogue. The music did most of the
work. I also loved anything Looney Tunes related and burned hundreds of hours of cartoon shorts and music
cues into my memory. Characters, dialogue, the simple facial expressions and how dark Bugs Bunny really
was. Carl Stalling is a genius.
I also recall when I was around seven, my mom gave me a box of miniature books she'd found at a garage
sale. They wound being about 10 anthologies of Charles Schulz's "Peanuts" comic strips.
I had already seen the Christmas special, The Great Pumpkin and the Thanksgiving special several times.
Being familiar with those cartoons helped give voice to every character in the Peanuts books I was racing
through. For awhile there, Peanuts became my favorite thing. I made a hook rug kit of Snoopy and hung it on
my wall. When I was deathly ill one summer I watched "Snoopy, Please Come Home" and cried while doing
so. While my cool best friend up the street had parents who bought him the Snoopy snow cone machine, my
parents bought me the Charlie Brown trash can instead. Very utilitarian. I had that trash can well into my late
20's. After it finally rusted, I believe I gave it a burial.
I eventually lost interest somewhere around "It's Flashbeagle, Charlie Brown," but have not yet failed in
watching the Halloween and Christmas specials at their respective times of year. The Christmas special is
sacred and the Halloween show is ritual. It IS Halloween time when Charlie Brown is on. It IS Christmas time
when Charlie Brown is on. These two things had become part of my history. They have both always been in
my life. Vince Guaraldi. Piano player / composer. Listen to his score for the Christmas Special and try to deny
the feelings it stirs. Soft and delicate... swings and relaxes. It evokes winter and youth and an innocence akin
to Norman Rockwell. Remove it as a score to a cartoon and on it's own it is simply beautiful music. Same
thing for the Halloween special. Dig the funk of the track "Little Birdie" from the Thanksgiving special. We
often never think of cartoons as being anything other than simple entertainment. In my case, it helped fuel an
interest in music that has not abated.
I mention all this also because Schulz's Peanuts cartoon is turning sixty this week. Schulz passed away
during the first year I became a teacher. To honor him, I decided to have my class rake up some leaves and
then dive into them. If you've lived anywhere on the world where the leaves turn brown in fall, it was a
right-of-passage. What I discovered was that many of my students had never jumped in leaves -- ever. That
changed fast. The class punk rock kid would do a skank flip into the pile. The class cool chicks dove in
without being asked. The emo guys jumped. Some declined, siting that they could do without weevils in their
hair, thank you. Everyone had their own style. Even Mr. Pickles dove in. A few years ago I bruised two of my
ribs jumping in. Nothing you can do about rib pain except ride it out. It was so worth it though. Jazz music and
leave jumping. Thanks Mr. Schulz.
Who's that turning Sixty?
WHAT'S THAT BLOGGY SMELL?
January 26th, 2011 7:19pm
This website and article were striking because they easily explain how your simple sketches can illuminate a
design. It's instant and organic and only requires a pencil, pen and paper.
From the article:
"A pencil or a Sharpie and a piece of paper invite loose exploration. Remember to keep on generating
ideas—you’ll want to push past that first bunch of surface ideas to get the deeper concepts out of your head.
The key to generating many ideas is to withhold judgment of them as good or bad until your sketching
session is complete. First capture the ideas, letting them flow without worrying if they’re any good. Wait until
you’re finished to judge and filter.
Sketches have an amazing ability to foster discussions about ideas. With colleagues and especially clients,
I've found sketches give everyone involved the permission to consider, talk about, and challenge the ideas
they represent. After all, it’s just a sketch.
Because sketches are unfinished and loose, they invite commentary. There is a latitude inherent in a sketch
that seems to magically open the door for others to offer ideas—often thoughts you couldn't come up with from
your singular perspective.
Give sketching a try for the idea generation and communication phases at the beginning of your next project.
Remember, it’s not about the quality of the drawing, but about capturing and communicating ideas from one
mind to another.
Generate as many different ideas as you can. Explore crazy, way-out-there ideas and then see how your
group or even your clients react. You might be surprised at the discussion that ensues."
This website and article were striking because they easily explain how your simple sketches can illuminate a
design. It's instant and organic and only requires a pencil, pen and paper.
From the article:
"A pencil or a Sharpie and a piece of paper invite loose exploration. Remember to keep on generating
ideas—you’ll want to push past that first bunch of surface ideas to get the deeper concepts out of your head.
The key to generating many ideas is to withhold judgment of them as good or bad until your sketching
session is complete. First capture the ideas, letting them flow without worrying if they’re any good. Wait until
you’re finished to judge and filter.
Sketches have an amazing ability to foster discussions about ideas. With colleagues and especially clients,
I've found sketches give everyone involved the permission to consider, talk about, and challenge the ideas
they represent. After all, it’s just a sketch.
Because sketches are unfinished and loose, they invite commentary. There is a latitude inherent in a sketch
that seems to magically open the door for others to offer ideas—often thoughts you couldn't come up with from
your singular perspective.
Give sketching a try for the idea generation and communication phases at the beginning of your next project.
Remember, it’s not about the quality of the drawing, but about capturing and communicating ideas from one
mind to another.
Generate as many different ideas as you can. Explore crazy, way-out-there ideas and then see how your
group or even your clients react. You might be surprised at the discussion that ensues."
Drawering
April 9th, 2011 4:17pm
As we draw nearer and nearer to the end of the year, I would like to take a moment to reflect
on the class. My numbers keep shrinking with each passing year I teach, making me realize
that either more and more people are learning about this industry on their own, or we need
to do a better job of marketing to students who know nothing about us. If you have taken a
class at SVEC and enjoyed it, please take a moment to tell some of your friends about it. It's
looking more and more like the survival of our programs and our unique and beneficial school
rests not on the shoulders of legislation in Tallahassee, but in you, the students. If you have
learned something, don't take it for granted. Say something to your friends and
administrators at your home school.
As we work on projects and moves towards our final (board game), please take a moment to
pat yourself on the back. Many of your have produced awesome, top quality work in our class.
I really try my absolute best to make sure you have a memorable and fun experience, but at
the end of the day that you also learn something as well. What can you bring to the class?
How can you have an impact? Stay involved and finish strong. That is all.
As we draw nearer and nearer to the end of the year, I would like to take a moment to reflect
on the class. My numbers keep shrinking with each passing year I teach, making me realize
that either more and more people are learning about this industry on their own, or we need
to do a better job of marketing to students who know nothing about us. If you have taken a
class at SVEC and enjoyed it, please take a moment to tell some of your friends about it. It's
looking more and more like the survival of our programs and our unique and beneficial school
rests not on the shoulders of legislation in Tallahassee, but in you, the students. If you have
learned something, don't take it for granted. Say something to your friends and
administrators at your home school.
As we work on projects and moves towards our final (board game), please take a moment to
pat yourself on the back. Many of your have produced awesome, top quality work in our class.
I really try my absolute best to make sure you have a memorable and fun experience, but at
the end of the day that you also learn something as well. What can you bring to the class?
How can you have an impact? Stay involved and finish strong. That is all.
The meat and potatoes of your edumacation
Commercial, digital and graphic arts industry news, weirdo products, life skills. Now with ZERO cholesterol!
February 22nd, 2012 9:06pm
Being a graphic designer can be just as rewarding as bugs are to the entomologist or trick
plays are to a sports coach. Being able to effortlessly identify fonts or Photoshop tricks can be
just as much fun as being a chef and in a snap, knowing the secret ingredient of your
competitors red gravy (whole cooked garlic cloves, mashed once and a pinch of sugar).
Being able to impress your friends by instantly recognizing fonts. "The Ben and Jerry's logo?
Minya Nouvelle. Trust me." Or pointing out secret images in logo design, "You never knew there
was an arrow in the Fed Ex logo? Really? You won't be able to unsee it."
It's also like performing magic. You have to do something seemless in front of an audience
intently staring and waiting for you to "wow them." Perform a trick. Get that person to buy,
go, move, listen, purchase, search, etc.. If you do it wrong, people will know, and boo, and
laugh and point. But when you do it right they will reward you often with silence because it
looks right and fits right and does its job. When you've done your job well, the message you
convey is acted upon. That's how you do repeat business. That's how you build a sound
portfolio of work in this 'bidness. Be creative. Be clever. Up your game. Take that chance. You
just may start a trend. You know you're onto something when people start to copy you. Pick a
card, any card. Practice your craft. Sleight of hand is appreciated, poor sleight of hand ends
the show. Be the magician who leaves them wanting more and wondering how you did it.
Being a graphic designer can be just as rewarding as bugs are to the entomologist or trick
plays are to a sports coach. Being able to effortlessly identify fonts or Photoshop tricks can be
just as much fun as being a chef and in a snap, knowing the secret ingredient of your
competitors red gravy (whole cooked garlic cloves, mashed once and a pinch of sugar).
Being able to impress your friends by instantly recognizing fonts. "The Ben and Jerry's logo?
Minya Nouvelle. Trust me." Or pointing out secret images in logo design, "You never knew there
was an arrow in the Fed Ex logo? Really? You won't be able to unsee it."
It's also like performing magic. You have to do something seemless in front of an audience
intently staring and waiting for you to "wow them." Perform a trick. Get that person to buy,
go, move, listen, purchase, search, etc.. If you do it wrong, people will know, and boo, and
laugh and point. But when you do it right they will reward you often with silence because it
looks right and fits right and does its job. When you've done your job well, the message you
convey is acted upon. That's how you do repeat business. That's how you build a sound
portfolio of work in this 'bidness. Be creative. Be clever. Up your game. Take that chance. You
just may start a trend. You know you're onto something when people start to copy you. Pick a
card, any card. Practice your craft. Sleight of hand is appreciated, poor sleight of hand ends
the show. Be the magician who leaves them wanting more and wondering how you did it.
Graphic Design is a bit like doing magic tricks