31 March 2008

experimentation with application

On a snowy Monday I am reminded of the simple pleasures of creation, experimentation, & application.  Magic can be found in the pure lucidity of making and giving and receiving.

30 March 2008

descend ascend descend

Flock of birds, in da sky, flying south, they know dis place will die. And I wish they could take me with them, but I would not be accepted, 'cuz I can't dance the funky chicken, I can't dance the funky chicken...

This weekend I climbed high the buttresses and 
watched from my perch 
therese and tammy and jens play
i'm a little lost
higher power
cold swedish winter
And this weekend I wished I was closer, 
and for more lukewarm English beer
and I wished so hard for the absence 
of the inherent reality of a long drive home,
and the subsequent descent as earth clings to frozen feet. 

28 March 2008


...wherein the snow must obey one final plea...
...and the breakfast of a 6-year-old friend starts with a C.

24 March 2008

going on the resume

job skills, 2:53 am: i am an exceptional scrabble player, especially considering i let people cheat.

23 March 2008

peep dis

happy easter everyone!

22 March 2008

a scientific breakthrough

New Marine Life Found in My Living Room
by Aimee Gauthier
Associated Press Writer

MY LIVING ROOM, Minnesota(AP)Scientists who conducted the most comprehensive survey to date of My Living Room's Antarctic waters were surprised by the size of some specimens found, including jellyfish with 12-foot tentacles and 2-foot-wide starfish.

A 2,000-mile journey through the My Living Room Sea that ended Thursday has also potentially turned up several new species, including as many as eight new mollusks.

It's "exciting when you come across a new species," said Chris Jones, a fisheries scientist at the My Living Room National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration. "All the fish people go nuts about–but you have to take it with a grain of salt."

18 March 2008


Upon rediscovering my old copy of this lovely book, given to me by my brother years ago, I become more enamored with the cover than the sum of the photographs. It is saying much with little...
And perhaps this is saying little with much? Sign language is strange and beautiful, so much can be said through the grace of a gesture, the subtleties and rhythms  of what is unspoken. In how many ways do we communicate? So many dialects, so many languages. So many reinterpretations of written letter forms. So many symbols...
Collage illustration by Lorenzo Petrantoni. I am suddenly feeling directionless. Do I follow the fish?

Czech modernist alphabet, as I try so hard to believe in the beauty of communication, collaboration, the simple architectures of a's and b's and c's...
...I cannot help but feel incomplete, with no red left in sallow cheeks. My life seems stuck in black and white, a series of contrasts, contradictions. I hold my head high only to skydive through the fog to the blackness of unproductivity, to the 100100100100 where I eat the dirt of inadequacy. I am losing my ability to communicate, process, create. Last night I re-learned morse code, but what good will that do, when no one speaks the language of the sea. I want to have purpose. I want to work. But I grow idle, and more so than fearing my continuous plummets, I fear the settling in of a persistent shade of grey.

views of japan

1940s Japan in miniature...now brought to you in color! 

16 March 2008

so many cakes

A joyous birthday to my mother, who has taught me, amongst many things, to appreciate the beauty of a perfectly peaked egg white, and the soothing hum of our trusty kitchenaid. 

It is strange–the printed dates on these photographs are inaccurate. did my grandfather wait for months to have them developed? did old kodak film come pre-dated?

14 March 2008

it's my birthday

It's my birthday, and you know what that means. Jens Lekman on YouTube, that's what! Plus a poorly inked intaglio print. Love is sick. 

13 March 2008

it's been a rough week

Lincoln Francis Gauthier
Sleep sweetly, poppet. Somewhere there is a grassy knoll with sheep to herd and geese to chase. 

ºººillustration by Corbert Gauthierººº

10 March 2008


the latest from RGB6  from yesterday's New York Times magazine. i do fancy a good arrangement. so much balance, so much loveliness...
and then there is this: a potential cover I made for Print's new visual artists cover design competition. Why is this boring? It is boring? It doesn't say much, if anything. I think it is time to put it to rest. The apple must be composted. 

09 March 2008


Springing forward, marching onward, i pluck the simple geometries from that precious star at the center of it all, tuck the rays into my back pocket, and save them for the days to come when the rain will surely pour.

07 March 2008

i need a holiday

cartography is a lost art? old maps are beautiful. are new maps merely informational?
swedish boys can (sort of) dance...
and make strange websites. thanks for being difficult sy/tta. 

ºººescapism:(n) the tendency to escape from daily reality or routine by indulging in daydreaming, fantasy, or entertainmentººº

05 March 2008

! re.introducing...shortbread !

Shortbread's been iced and nonpareiled. She's feeling fancy in this, the next phase of her typographic exploration. Beautiful shadows and negative space = lots of room for experimentation with forms. Stay tuned...

Nonpareil explosion! 
ºººnonpareil: (n) 1. decorative confection of tiny sugar spheres, originally white but now available in a myriad of colors (thank you Wikipedia), not to be confused with sprinkles or dragées 2. derived from French, meaning having no equal, as in nothing compares.ººº

01 March 2008

march sky at twilight

Twilight falls across the sky, on the eve of March 1st, and I revel in the fact that I have conquered the cold. The biting darkness of February was no match for me this year, thanks to a strength that I was finally able to shake wide awake, manifested in the cabled rows of one certain red cap. Spring lurks so close beyond the horizon, I just know it. 

ººººWee enchanted snowscapes by Martin & Munoz, poem by Pablo Neruda. Special thanks to the girls of the Snapshot Shanty, and the crazy capers of Colin & Dylanººº