#can you tell i love typography design??? cause i do :)

[folkloresreputation]

I said, "I love you"

You say nothin' back

Follow for more ♡ Find me on DeviantArt

[my-darling-boy]

It’s horrible how my design course has killed my enjoyment in creativity because all they want is finished pieces founded in nothing but a spontaneous mark just to hang at some concrete art gallery or to sell to some “join our revolution” comfy business-casual company with a prison cell wellness room. I’m not saying that it’s “not art” —cos that’s a different post altogether— it’s that the ethos behind this particular formula for art education is ruining the way we think about creation.

Design courses (and other art courses I’ve heard?) are no longer teaching artists or designers techniques, drawing skills, art fundamentals and allowing them to find their own voice so much as they are only instructing how to tic boxes alongside pushing corporate and classist motivated style/methodology bias aimed at producing workers, not creatives, not to mention providing Adobe with endless funds for their despicable scam programs. That’s it. My creativity is only a means to money for them, and if they can extract the process of creation from me without the complex creative intimacy involved in it, they know they can churn out products and services faster and it’s concerning some lecturers don’t seem to be aware this is what they’re teaching? Like they’re buying into industry propaganda?

And the whole time it’s sold to you like you can be some trailblazer when the irony is they’re usually either prepping you for cubicle work or for some misguided high horse creative team pumping out design solutions completely divorced from the reality. I’m tired of all the talks about sustainability in a vacuum with no conversation about nuanced designs that factor in broader social and economic perspectives which lack thereof is leading to sustainable products being sold at a price only able to be afforded by wealthier people who are causing said economic and social problems and contributing to the rapid obsoletion of trades and crafts. Lecturers and speakers don’t seem to think that’s any of our concern and should just worry about producing the design for the hypothetical Bluetooth powered organic hairbrush or using the twigs to make the pattern for the £85 fabric square.

Like? Can I please make something that actually resonates with people outside the circle jerk of egotistical creatives and corporations? Something charming and maybe idk something that doesn’t make me want to tear my miserable portfolio in half with my teeth? And they’re like Mm nope sorry it has to be an extreme close up of a mark making abstract leaf you made from a recycled trash bag inspired by a stalled urban space which we will force you to price at £100 during your exhibition 5 people will bother to attend and no you’re not allowed any other style cos this isn’t the Dark Ages :///

I think the worst thing my lecturer ever said was, while looking around the room of our class work reduced down to a series of cubes and splatters and abstract typography, “Wow, I love how you can’t tell what anyone’s [main artist discipline] is!” Like awww conformity at the expense of a person’s individuality to make pieces for airport hallways and rich people’s living rooms wow so cool heehee like girl that’s not good?? Why on Earth are you complimenting us for that? Like I get it, I thought this course would boost skillset as an illustrator (as we were told), turns out the degree is really not for me, fair enough to anyone thinking that, but forcing students to produce modern abstract art because you think it’s the ONLY Logical Pathway for the future of design, judging them intensely for doing a different style, and thinking producing financially inaccessible art + design is the solution to things like climate change and community severance is an objectively bad take.

[aceofwhump]

1, 6, 9, 10?

Thanks for the ask!!!

What was your favorite whump gif that you made this year?

Just answered this one here :D But because I can I'm going to share another favorite gifset of mine from this year. I really love all of the David Tennant filmography whump I made this year but this one from the movie The Outsider is one of my favorites. https://aceofwhump.tumblr.com/post/734215700786348032/the-outsider-2002-the-fever-has-settled-in

It's got some of my favorite whump and coloring this scene was a challenge but i love how it came out. I could stare at that shivering forever.

6. Can you tell us about any funny or unexpected moments that happened while making whump gifs?

This one is so interesting. Let me think. Funny or unexpected. Ummm. Well one of the things I love about giffing is that I can look at a whump scene literally frame by frame and sometimes I'll see things that I didn't notice before. Like when I was making this set from The Witcher I couldn't stop looking at Joey Batey's incredibly on the verge of tears acting and seeing it frame by frame was so intriguing I ended up making another gifset focusing on that alone and made this one. I love when that happens. When you find another gifset idea within a gifset you're already working on. That's always unexpected and I love it.

9. Are there any upcoming projects or goals you have in mind for next year in regards to whump gifs?

Yes!!! So many. I have a very long list of whump scenes I've always wanted to gif but haven't yet that I've been keeping for ages. One of my goals for 2024 is to tackle that. It's got things from Stargate, Supernatural, Merlin, Hawaii Five-0, Leverage, Once Upon a Time, Hallmark movies, Emergency!, The Hardy Boys, Simon and Simon, MacGyver, and SO MUCH MORE!

Another project I'm currently debating/thinking about is maybe making my own whump month challenge like whumptober or febuwhump but strictly designed for gifmakers. Since so many of the month challenges are writing focused I've been thinking about making one that is gif/visual art focused. Prompts that are easier for gifmaking, maybe share gifmaking tips and tricks, days with questions like this, etc. I'm not sure if I'll go through with this or not but it is something I'm thinking about.

And as for goals I still have a lot gifmaking tricks I want to learn or try out. I want to play more with layouts and blending and typography and really see what I can do. And continue to work on improving my coloring and brightening cause there's always more to learn and I love that.

10. Do you have any advice or tips for aspiring whump gif makers who may be just starting out in the community?

This is such a great question! Yes! To anyone out there who wants to gif but is afraid or intimidated or unsure, I have several pieces of advice for you.

For starters, gif things you like! If there's a whumpy scene you love and want gifs of, start there. It makes it so much more fun if you gif because YOU want to gif it and not because you think this particular scene will be popular or everyone else will like it. Don't focus on getting notes. I know getting notes is nice and I too want them because it means people like what I made and more people see them which is important too BUT if that's the only reason you make gifs you'll end up disappointed very quickly especially in this current fandom climate where no one reblogs things anymore. I keep giffing because I love the process and I gif things I love. Scenes and characters I love. That's where the fun is.

Don't worry about it looking absolutely perfect. Everyone starts somewhere and there's nowhere to go but up. Focus on just learning the basics of gifmaking and go from there. You gif does not need to look perfect for you to post it. I guarantee someone out there will like your gif!

You don't need photoshop to make gifs. There are a ton of online free programs you can use to learn how to make a gif that make it super simple and easy to learn. If you want to do more then photoshop is definitely the way to go but as a beginner it's totally easy and cool to use the online programs. It's a great way to see if you like making gifs.

Just go for it! Anyone can make gifs! So if you've been thinking about giving it a try, go for it!! It's fun!

(list of questions)

[purgemarchlockdown]

pleae tell us about the advertisement quality of Cat and This Is How To Be In Love With You @tsuwmya replied.

Im glad I have followers who enable me, anyway:

So This is How to Be In Love With You and Cat have this advertisement sales-like quality to them that I fixate on whenever I think about them. I'll talk TIHTBILWY first cause its much easier to explain, it's a magazine!

While it's portrayed in a sort of personal diary way, it's Undeniably a magazine. This panel shows the front and the back, with little listings of the clothing and what they add to your look and outfit. TIHTBILWY is Selling you the idea of a perfect romantic relationship between two people. One that we know was Not At All Perfect.

It's designed to be mass-market appealing and desirable. You could have this too! All you have to do is these simple things! This translation of this frame has the stuff in parenthesis translated as:

How to be someone anyone can fall in love with! A 16 day memorial Produced by Mahiru Shiina

But since it's an ad, it loses that sense of sincerity and honesty. It's manufactured beauty. Something that's manufactures for Us the audience (and for society as whole.) So that Mahiru and her boyfriend are seen as the Normal Heterosexual Relationship.

Cat on the other hand is a bit subtler about this but it's still Present, for one It abides by KISS (Keep it simple, stupid)

I'm familiar with this being used in animation, but it is also used in advertisements, since clarity and visual communication is Super important. It's why companies have made their logos simpler and simpler and why Corporate Memphis is a plague on this earth.

Not only that but it utilizes halftones and typography! Making it feel more printed and like something you would find in a newspaper advertising a new product. Plus the major colors used (yellow, cyan, magenta) are also ink printing colors!

Cat is Extremely performative, it's clean, it's Safe.

This is just Kazui trying to sell the perfect happy marriage to the rest of society. Heck he even poses like a salesman presenting something to you in this shot!

Again, there is not Honesty here. It's selling you an idea. But the advertisement breaks down over time before falling apart into a bloody mess.

EXCEPT THIS IS ITS OWN PERFORMANCE! KAZUI FEELS GUILTY AND IS TRYING TO SELL YOU THE IDEA THAT HE IS A BRUTAL HORRIBLE MAN! THAT HE IS A VIOLENT PERPETRATOR!

There's Two scenes where this border isn't on screen and I firmly believe those are the only scenes where Kazui isn't trying to sell us on an idea. Or at least isn't performing.

Love as something that needs to be performed and sold to wider society is a FANTASTIC visual and I LOVE IT DEARLY

*grips table* someone please ask me about the advertisement quality of Cat and This Is How To Be In Love With You......sanitized ad of love and romance delivered to you for $1.99! It makes me go insane.....

[project-offline]

Alexis

It Starts With Hello

Taylen’s point of view on how she met this person.

I first met Alexis in high school when we were in the same homeroom class together. We first bonded over our love for sports, for at the time she was playing hockey competitively and I was playing water polo; we discussed about our busy schedules with practices and how we frequently we left on trips to play at tournaments. I would talk to her every now and then, but I didn’t really get to know her until about 4 years later when we were in the school’s yearbook class together. We shared our love for graphic design and our annoyance with typography as our friendship grew. After we graduated from high school, for a couple months we kept in touch with having a small study group where we had weekly sessions at Starbucks. Although we are no longer studying at Starbucks on frequent occasions, 4 years later today, we continue to keep in touch every week (if not on the daily) and share our love for Marvel, Lord of the Rings and other various shows on Netflix.

This or That

You can only choose one…

Salty or Sweet

Winter or Summer

Air Guitar or Air Drums

Coffee or Tea

Dogs or Cats

Sleeping or Eating // How do I choose?! They’re very close.

Five Facts of Fun

What are 5 facts about yourself?

My favourite hobby is reading.

Working with kids is a big part of my life and my career goal is to be a primary school teacher.

I played a lot of hockey when I was younger and I’ve coached the sport as well.

I have a fear of heights.

I am the eldest of 4 siblings and because of that, it has shaped a lot of my personality.

Drop a Bop

Pick a song that is the theme song to your life and discuss why.

Because "teenagers [do] scare the living [fuck] out of me”. And that's why I want to be an elementary school teacher and not high school kids. I kind of like how it's comical, the way they’re talking about in the song like they were teenagers saying like "you're gonna clean up your looks, with all of your lives in the books, to make a citizen out of you". Because teenagers are such a feared group of people by older people, they took that and were like "yeah... we are scary". While teenagers scare me, I don't think people make enough effort to understand them enough. I just don't want to be the one to do that because they still scare me and I'm worried about it; and I don't think I’m good at it, but they deserve to be treated more like adults.

Debate Time

What is your perspective on the following question: Is the ocean soup?

If you throw a bunch of things into a pot with liquid and you don’t cook it, do you consider that soup? Cause that’s basically my deciding factor. If soup has to be hot… well cause you can have cold soup that started hot and at some point you had to cook it. But yup, I’d say it’s soup.

Some Deeper Small Talk

Chosen from a group of questions, the person answered the following question: What was something mean that was said to me in my childhood that I carry with me to this day? What would I say to my younger self now?

[At the time when I was younger and playing hockey], it was probably some of the various stuff that got said to me in the dressing room... and so I'd probably tell myself well what I’d always used to say to my younger self, which sounds cliche, but “it's going to be fine, it's going to be okay". I think my biggest thing as a teenager was that I was constantly worried and anxious about everything, so I used to always say that to myself to help reassure me.

The Final Spotlight

If you had the final opportunity to say anything to the world, what would you say?

Please, just be kinder to people.

[neutron-stars-blog]

Love Lies Bleeding | PART I

(whump/hurt-comfort)

Dustin Hallows, an immortal human being whom the world has feared for centuries, finds a mysterious trespasser within his mountain laboratory. So he tortures him. As one does. Except this chapter doesn’t actually have the torture in it -- it just introduces my OCs and some foreshadowing occurs.

Warning(s): Gun, knife, (mentions of) torture, scars (from chemical burns), drugs/sedatives/needles, spiders/arachnophobia, blood (not overly graphic), mentions of a strip search which does not actually occur.

Let me know if you have questions about my content warnings or about my writing in general.

--

PART I

Failed typography: A literary analysis (that’s the chapter title)

Dustin's Point of View

I thought I would be celebrating the red, bleeding colours of the sunset that night. Dining with my closest acquaintances, staring in awe outside the penthouse windows, awaiting the darkness. I thought I would take a break from work. I thought I would sleep that night.

Instead, I spent the first few shifts of that night in one of the basement floors of the mountain, listening to the soft cries of an uncanny figure in the corner of the computer room.

"Please — Please don't come any closer. Stay back or I'll kill you."

I couldn't see much of the trembling thing standing before me, except for his bony fingers holding a vintage pistol to my forehead. His hand was violently shaking. The skin was dry, scratched, and blood-stained, indicative of something awful he must have been suffering through.

Instability. Pain. Trauma.

He was definitely human, but his presence was unexplainable. There was no civilization left outside of the mountain. Everyone else had faded away centuries ago.

Well, almost everyone. The people of the flatlands were still around, but they were as elusive as ever. Sometimes, it felt as if they had died out as well.

"Please," the stranger said, pressing his gun harder against my head. "Please, don't hurt me. Or I'll kill you."

I didn't think he was going to shoot me. From the way his fingers wrapped around the gun crookedly with one hand, it was evident he didn't even know how. From underneath the thin hood draped over his head the faint lights of the computer room glistened in his bloodshot, insomniac eyes.

I didn't speak. The sounds of his shallow breaths echoed through the darkness as he attempted to stifle his panic. Though it was immoral to admit, his fear was starting to evoke all sorts of emotional responses.

Pleasure. Pity. Fascination.

"Please, I swear—" he sniffled. His voice was breaking.

The second I made a step forward he flinched hard and the gun clattered to the floor. His eyes widened. He wrapped his arms around his body. I wanted to sit back and laugh at how scared and pathetic this stranger was, and with a twisted enjoyment watch him as he cried and begged for his life. But instead I selected a more cruel approach, pulling out my pocket knife with the intent to further his psychological pain.

I snatched his arm tightly and twisted it behind his back until his body stiffened, drawing my knife to his throat to threaten his miserable life. He briefly struggled, but stopped at the realization that he was far weaker than I was and any attempt at fighting against me would be futile.

"Listen," I whispered in his ear, pressing my knife harder against his neck. "You will do exactly as I ask, or I will break your bones and skin you alive."

From my grip on his wrist I could feel his pulse and knew that my threat caused further shots of panic to spread through his body. He nodded, but barely, to avoid cutting his throat. Apart from his nods and little trembles, he stood completely frozen.

"Good. Now take a deep breath," I whispered.

He obeyed. Since his back was turned to me, he was unable to see the bloodthirsty, devilish smile plastered on my face, savouring every fragment of this encounter to reminisce about later.

I felt the stranger's body slowly fall limp as I held him there. "God, I have so many questions to ask you," I said.

There was a pause.

"I'm sorry," came a soft, unexpected reply, "I'm sorry for breaking in. I'm sorry for what I did on your computer."

"Shush. It's okay." My head turned to the long message still displayed on the nearby computer screen. The text was too small to read, but there must have been paragraphs upon paragraphs if one were to take a closer look. "Tell me. Where are you from? The flatlands, I presume?"

Another pause.

"What—" He panicked, his heart speeding up. He was so pitiful. "I — I don't even know what that is."

I twisted his arm tighter, forcing a soft, pained whimper from his throat.

"You seriously expect me to believe that?" I asked.

"Please, I don't know what you're talking about!"

"Who else came with you?"

The stranger paused. His breathing was forced and erratic.

"There's no one. I'm alone."

"Liar."

"You can search the whole fortress," he stuttered, "I swear, there's no one with me."

"I know you're not working alone. You're just a frail little thing."

"I have employers, okay? But they're not here," he said. He began struggling to get out of my grip. "I was just sent here to follow instructions. And they said they'd come get me when everything was done."

"And where are they?"

"I don't know."

Would they ever show up? Probably not, my instincts told me. How sweet. A broken, bloodied thing, doing someone else's dirty work, now abandoned by his associates.

At that moment, my plans to celebrate the sunset slipped out of my list of priorities. I was ecstatic, excited for the endless hours I would spend questioning this mysterious, unidentifiable stranger. Finding out every single thing about him. About his motives. About his past. About his deepest fears and desires. Nevertheless, the underlying question haunted me and almost scared me: Where the hell did he come from?

I finally released the knife from his neck and dragged him out of the computer room, leaving his gun on the floor to remain in the bitter darkness.

"Where are you taking me?" He asked.

"The fourth floor. Very deep into the mountain," I said, "I'm taking you as a hostage."

Silence.

As we walked through the long, white hallways, the stranger obeyed my orders without resistance. He cried softly, but didn't speak. If his walking slowed down, I would tighten the grip on his arm and jerk him forwards, causing a sound to escape from his mouth, but no further complaints.

After making several turns we were greeted by the bittersweet light of the outside as we passed by a window that stretched over an entire hallway. The stranger gingerly ran his fingertips over the glass, tracing along the fractal-like designs formed by frost as he admired the icy mountains that surrounded this fortress, continuing to spread far into the distance. The scenic beauty of the northern mountains conveyed the most calming feeling, a shocking contrast to the boy's torturous fate. He stared in awe at the warm, vibrant colours of the sunset, knowing that this was probably his last glimpse of the outside world.

Minutes later, we passed by another window providing us a glance at one of the several artificial ecosystems I had developed — they were often the only way within my estate to experience the outdoors as exposure to the dangerously freezing temperatures of the northern mountains was hardly ever an option. Upon approaching the glass, the boy slowed down to stare inside with wide eyes. Massive, fruit-bearing trees filled the area and surrounded the panoramic, fairytale-like waterfall that towered over the walls. The view was almost ethereal. Mist filled the air and blurred the view of anything far off into the distance. The cold colours of the artificial lights were reflected in my hostage's face and for a second he didn't look like a terrified corpse.

Further into the ecosystem was where food was grown, farmed by those who lived with and worked for me, since I needed the fortress to be self-sustainable in case we were ever cut off from the trade agreement with the flatlands. I currently ordered most of my supplies through broadcasts from the computer room, and they would be shipped to me via aircraft, however I knew these imports wouldn’t last. Especially after the events from the past few hours.

Hell, given the state of this world I wasn’t even sure if humanity would last.

While I held the stranger by his arm, I felt him flinch at the realization that the window was wreathed in dark, monstrous spiders. Overshadowed by the scenery behind them, the little fuckers weren’t noticeable at first, however, a closer look revealed a myriad of the elusive creatures lurking within the glass. Spiders have always been fascinating to me. I love the way they spend hours fashioning the most intricate webs. The way they are so dainty yet so cunning. The way they tie up their prey, leave them struggling and fighting for survival, and inject venom into their helpless bodies until their insides are reduced to liquid mush. My hostage was trembling and I felt him shiver at the mere sight of the countless spiders that nested in the window. I was deeply entertained, wanting to laugh at his reaction to the captivating creatures but I instead only smiled to myself, knowing that he must have been so afraid of them.

How perfect.

Gripping him tighter, I jerked his body away from the window and dragged him inside a clean but cramped elevator. We would be travelling many floors down, heading deep underground. Once the doors closed, I let go of his arm. He immediately backed into a corner, holding on to the glass walls as if he couldn't stand on his own due to physical weakness, starvation, or sleep deprivation. I had no idea what he went through before he came here, but I knew I would find out eventually. As the elevator started moving, his entire body trembled and his eyes stared at the floor, not daring to meet mine.

It was then that I started to notice how small and scrawny the stranger was, and wondered who could have possibly sent him here. Maybe among the group of conspirators from the flatlands, he was the only person capable of completing the particular task at hand—but why would they send him here with no backup, rendering him entirely vulnerable and defenseless? Surely they must have known that I would likely torture and brutally kill him. The more I thought about it the less it made sense to me.

Throughout the rest of the elevator ride, I stood silently, toying with my pocket knife as I savoured the boy's crippling fear. I couldn't help but smile.

Once the doors opened, I quickly grabbed him again and he reluctantly followed me through the labyrinthine basement. The silence was unsettling. The only sounds that could be heard were light footsteps and the boy's rapid, shallow breaths. We soon reached the end of the hallway we were walking through and I scanned my fingerprint over a door labeled 'room 404.'

The electronic door unlocked, and I pushed my hostage inside. When I let go of his arm, he weakly collapsed onto the floor, trembling. As I cuffed his wrists and ankles, he didn't protest or fight back. He simply kept his head down and softly whimpered as I dragged him by the chains until he was lying against a wall.

"Stay right there," I mumbled, "and try not to struggle too much."

I pulled out my communications device and called Cherry, the head of my scientific research department. I requested several things. My laptop. My reading glasses. A printout of the stranger's cryptic broadcast. I briefly mentioned the stranger. Her voice on the other end muttered a quick "okay, goodbye" before she hung up.

I turned towards him, the weird little stranger, crumpled on the floor.

"Hello," I said. I flashed him a quick smile. "Are you excited for the sunset?"

"The what?"

"The sunset. Those pretty colours in the sky. You kept staring at them earlier."

"I didn't know what they were." He took a heavy breath. I noticed he was fidgeting with the chains that bound him. "The sky isn't supposed to look like that. Is the world ending?"

I grinned. "It is for you."

He looked confused. So fucking confused.

Minutes later, Cherry entered.

"Hello, Dustin. Hello, prisoner," she mumbled, placing things into my hands. "Laptop, glasses, printout. Here you go."

I examined the printout of the message broadcasted from the computer room. An unfamiliar location code was printed at the top. Nevertheless, the body of the message was the focus of my attention. Obviously, from scanning through it, it was clear it was supposed to be a copy of one particular research paper from the library: a document from my medical research titled, "The effects of slow-working poisons: Investigations of possible treatments."

The issue wasn't the content, however, but rather how it was composed. Typos and mistakes were scattered throughout the message. Words were missing. Sometimes, letters were swapped out for numerals and vice versa.

It was the most unusual thing.

Cherry was about to leave when I grabbed the sleeve of her lab coat. "Wait, stay," I whispered, glancing back at the prisoner. "I'm kind of creeped out all of a sudden. This kind of typography isn't normal."

"Is it not?"

"I don't think so. These mistakes are too uncommon and too repetitive. It might not be as surface level as we think — maybe he sent them a code of some sort."

"Or maybe his wrists were broken."

I paused. I thought about the way he walked and the way he held that gun. It was like he was broken. "Remind me to do scans of his body. There might be some truth to what you're saying."

Cherry walked over to him and nudged him with the tip of her boot. "Get up," she mumbled. She wasn't rough or harsh with him, yet he winced and wrapped his arms around himself. "Get up," she repeated, pulling the chains on his wrists and forcing him to stand.

"Cherry, what are you doing?"

"Just examining him. Where's he from?"

"The flatlands," I said, "he must be."

"Oh, how creepy," she said, "a ghost from the dead, forgotten lands."

Cherry sometimes joked that the people of the flatlands had died out centuries ago and that all this time, we had been corresponding with the ancient signals and broadcasts they've left behind. Had it not been for the trade agreement we had with them, I would have accepted her theory as plausible. The civilizations of the flatlands were about as elusive as they could get. We knew nothing about their identity, their exact location, or their history. They didn't allow us to.

She began moving her hands over his arms, starting at his wrists and going deeper under his sleeves. At every spot, she squeezed him tightly, digging her thumbs into his forearms.

He tried to pull away. He cried. "Fuck — it hurts!"

"God, Cherry, what are you doing to him?"

"Nothing, just examining him," she said sharply. "There. Nothing's broken." She pulled down the prisoner's sleeves before I could see if she was too harsh, to see if she had left any marks on him. "He's definitely not from the flatlands. He can't be."

"How do you know?"

"He just can't be!"

"Where else could he have come from?"

"From inside the fortress, maybe?" Cherry suggested, "perhaps someone had a kid and hid him from us."

"What? We would have found out somehow." I mean, I knew the residents of the fortress were scared of us. If they cared about their kid, of course they would try to protect him from us. Who wouldn't? But they would never be able to hide him for so long. For what, twenty years, give or take? We would have found out.

I shook my head. "No," I said.

I looked back at the prisoner. He had already sat back down, face buried in his arms, shielding himself.

"Where are you from?" I demanded.

"I can't tell you!" His voice was cracking.

I approached him, kneeled down, and grabbed him by the hair. I tilted his head back painfully. "If you won't tell me, I'll have to force it out of you."

He flinched. "Please—"

I let him go.

"Cherry," I said, "could you pass me a needle? They're on the top shelf. I want to run some medical tests on him."

She mumbled an "okay" and began rummaging through the cabinets.

The chamber was rather small, but the space was efficiently used, with all sorts of appliances and medical devices arranged neatly in drawers and collections of drugs and surgical tools organized in the cabinets above. Though I found the room to be aesthetically pleasing, it still held an atmosphere that felt cold and sterile.

"What do you plan on doing?" Cherry asked.

"I want to search him," I said, "then take x-rays of him and what-not. He'd be too shaky for that, so I want to put him to sleep."

I put on gloves and prepared a syringe of a weak sedative, making sure the dosage wasn't overly drastic before I approached my terrified prisoner.

He briefly cried out in pain as I grabbed him by the hair again and forced him into a seated position. His breathing quickened but he was far too weak to put up a fight. I picked up one of his wrists, lifting up the sleeve of his hoodie, and immediately gasped in shock at his damaged, mutilated skin.

His entire forearm was covered in dry, irritated, peeling flesh, some parts oozing and infected. It was awful.

"Are those chemical burns?" I asked quietly.

He didn't answer.

"Was it an accident? Or did someone do this to you?"

Again, there was no response.

When he finally saw the contents of my hand his eyes widened and he flinched away from me, making me realize that he likely had a fear of needles.

How precious.

Before I injected him with the sedative I told him to close his eyes, which he fearfully obeyed, and I muttered that this wasn't going to hurt him in the slightest bit. That statement wasn't a lie. I knew that the needle was completely painless and was nothing compared to what I would be doing to him over the next few shifts. After removing the syringe, I rolled his sleeve back down to hide the brutal scars on his arm and laid him down gently on the floor to wait for the drugs to set in.

I had no doubt that he recognized me from the way he looked at me with pure fear in his eyes. He knew exactly who I was. His breaths were shallow and shaky as he brought his hands to his mouth, biting at the skin around his fingernails until I could see traces of blood on his lips. He was terrified and rightfully so. With a sick fascination I observed his pathetic yet intoxicating agony.

"You'll start to feel a little drowsy," I said, "it's okay, it's normal."

Minutes passed until his trembling finally stopped and the sudden absence of fear made him appear almost calm. I pressed my fingers against his neck to check his pulse and felt a slow, steady heartbeat. I also shook him roughly to make sure he was really unconscious and was met with a soft groan but no further movement. He was almost asleep. I knew that he would remain sedated for another hour or so, which provided me with more than enough time to think through all of the horrible things I would do to him once he woke up. A sinister smile started creeping onto my lips.

I really did love my job.

As my prisoner lay there completely unconscious I peeled the sweat-drenched hair from his forehead and ran a finger down his innocent-looking, delicate face.

At that point I took the opportunity to search his outside pockets for any weapons or identification, but I couldn't find anything. Earlier, I had planned to conduct a more thorough strip search, but I changed my mind. Practically violating him while he was unconscious and unaware just didn't sit right with me. I didn't want to touch him. I didn't even want to look at him. Besides, I was tired.

I sat down next to him, leaning against the wall. I noticed that Cherry had already left.

Taking a deep breath, I glanced down at the stranger's frail, unconscious body before looking away. "Hopefully I'll be finished with you before the sun goes down."

I really thought I would be celebrating the red, bleeding colours of the sunset that night. But in the end, I suppose, the red, bleeding wounds of my terrified prisoner would have to do.

[ubernoxa]

The Token: A Guns N’ Roses Fanfiction

Chapter 7: Cousin Kendal

Masterlist

Story Summary: Story inspired by the movie She’s the Man. A female Duff is tired of dealing with the bullshit of trying to make it on the strip as a female bassist. In a desperate attempt to make it big doing what she does, she cuts her hair and mascardes as Duff. What’s the wors that could happen?

Chapter Summary: Cousin Kendal comes to town causing several problems and hiccups in Michelle’s plan

Taglist: @viralwolf02 @littlemisscare-all @smokeandmirrorz @aratbaby @slashscowboyboots @achiweyow

“So what did you do last night? Have any fun?” Derek quizzed as I was wiping down the display cases in between rushes.

“Went out with Walter and Macy, and it was...interesting. Went to a couple bars that had okay music. Nothing I won’t forget in a couple weeks though. How about you?,” I shrugged back. The bar hopping part of the night might have been my idea to get away from a certain group of people.

I continued to listen to Derek as he talked about the girl he met last month and was still going out with. He kept going on and on about how cute and sweet she was, making my heart warm. Yeah I was quickly growing tired of his constant praise or borderline obsession over his girlfriend, but I was glad at least one of us had a healthy relationship, hell a relationship in general. The best word to describe my relationship status was nonexistent. I froze for a second as an unfamiliar figure stared back at me. I remained frozen staring at my own reflection. I hadn't noticed it at first, but Michelle the brunette bassist who worked at a coffee shop seemed to be slowly turning into a stranger. A mask I would put only only when needed.

“ I hope my father hasn't been working you too hard,” my heart stopped at the familiar voice that came from behind me.

“No Kendal, but just enough to keep me out of trouble,” I quickly turned around and sent the familiar face a smile, except she wasn’t as familiar as I had expected her to look. It wasn’t her hair, her clothing, or her makeup that was different, but something was. She quickly pulled me into a hug before letting go of me and placing her hand under my chin.

“Did you grow? You have to at least be part giraffe by how tall you’re getting!” She quizzed as I felt her look me up and down

“Giraffe? I’m not even 5’ 10”!” I teased back.

“Ohh there is my college girl,” I turned to see my uncle running out of the back office to give his daughter a large bear hug. It was nice to see them back together after the six months that had passed. I sent them both a warm smile before returning back to work.

“What major is she this week?” I had to hold in a snort at Derek’s comment. He had many options about Kendal, and a majority, arguable all, of them weren’t good.

“Hey now, do you know what you want to do for the rest of your life? It is both a scary and hard choice!” I whispered back. Kendal had tried marketing, accounting, journalism, typography, design, and now she was sitting in general business management.

He shrugged and joined me in washing the dishes.

“What would you do?” As he shot up from organizing the pastries, it was clear that my question had caught him off guard.

“What?”

“I said, what would you do if you had the money to go to school?” I repeated.

He shrugged before returning back to the pastries, after a couple of seconds I heard him reply, “I would go to culinary school. Once I got the degree I would head to New York and never look back,” I felt a sense of comfort flow through me as he talked.

“I have always heard that New York has the best dining. Unless it is deep dish pizza, that belongs to Chicago,” I smiled back earning a nod from him.

“Yeah I would become an apprentice or some shit like that and save up enough money until I could own my own local restaurant. It may take 10 or 15 years, but when I have it….ohh god when I get it I will name it after my dad and have his sausage stew as a permanent item I will do anything to get there. Hell, I got one more year before I can start affording to go to college part time. I have and will do whatever it takes,” he added.

“Let me know when you open because I will be the first in line. I will camp out a week before your open if that's what it takes!” I smiled back, his face quickly mimicking my own.

“Are you really going to have time to? You are going to be a world famous rockstar! That's still the dream right?” he asked back, his attention no longer on organizing the pastries.

“Yeah, and I think I might have actually found the right band too! We sound unique and the songs we play aren't the ones you would forget a week later.”

“I am glad that you are finally back on your feet after your last band...what was is Pyxie or some shit like that?”

“Yeah..forget those bitches! They didn't have what it takes!”

“And you do?”

“Yeah..I gotta” I smiled back at him. These were the moments that made me love my job. These were the moments I wish he didn’t have a girlfriend.

“You gotta what?” I immediately snapped up at Kendal’s question.

“She has gotta have what it takes to make it as a rockstar!” Derek bragged as if I was his kid who just won the spelling bee. Which would never happen because I couldn’t and still can’t spell for shit.

“She has to have what it takes,” Derek rolled his eyes when Kendal corrected his grammar. Kendal had many quirks and Derek could not tolerate any of them.

I watched Derek like a hawk as he tried to calm himself down. Luckily for all parties involved he was successful.

“Your band is called Pyxie right?” She quickly asked and immediately apologized when she saw my reaction.

“They were my old band, and they were more interested in sex than the music...so I left and found a new one,” I received a confused look from Derek as I spoke. Using the term left was putting my departure from PYXIE lightly, but that is the beauty of telling the story. I get to tell it my way.

“Ohh sorry to hear, but sounds like you made the smart educated decision by leaving the band. What is your new band called? Can I come see you perform soon?” She was radiating excitement as she spoke.

“We don’t have a name yet, but whenever we have our next gig I will invite you and send you pictures!” The lies easily rolled off of my tongue as I spoke

“Good to hear that you found another band!” I wish I could punch Izzy in the gut when he invited himself into the conversation. How had I not seen him walk in?

“Kendal, I’m Michelle’s cousin. Are you her bandmates?” Izzy tried to hide the smile that was growing on his face, but he failed.

“No, Axl by the way” I rolled my eyes as Kendal swooned over Axl, just like every other girl he encountered.

“If you are looking to see some music tonight, or band has a gig,” I immediately stared Izzy down as he spoke.

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IZZY STRADLIN.

“Oh Shelley and I would love to go,” I never broke eye contact with Izzy as Kendal spoke. I watched as a smirk grew on his face when Kendal slipped and called me my nickname from when I was 10.

“Sorry I can’t go,” I didn’t even fake a saddened tone as I spoke.

“Are you working late?” Axl’s tone was smooth as he spoke

“No, band practice,” I shrugged before Kendal could make a comment offering to get me the night off which would only cause my lie to fall apart and everything spiral out of control.

“What band? You singing or playing guitar?” Axl seemed genuinely curious which threw me for a loop.

“Bass, and name coming soon,” I quickly replied.

“Would I know anyone in this band?” I shot Izzy another death glare as he quizzed me. I wanted to slap his smirk off of his stupid face.

“No….but like I said I won’t be able to make it,” I never broke eye contact with the black haired dick as I spoke. Why? Why was he digging? He knew I was Duff. By the look on his face I could tell he was enjoying this.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

I started to apply my eyeliner when I heard him walk in.

“Thought you had band practice,” I heard him tease as he leaned against the wall right against the mirror I was using. I could barely focus on applying my eyeliner as he leaned against the wall smoking a cigarette. His purple blouse was unbuttoned all the way and tied at the bottom reminding me of the night that was a little over a month ago. Fuck he looked hot.

“Do you need help teasing your hair?” I raised a brow, but before I could say anything he grabbed a brush and began teasing it to the heavens. He was gently which was actually quite surprising.

“Take a picture, it will last longer,” I remained frozen while Izzy spoke as I stared in his reflection in the mirror. My mind raced around in a circle trying to figure out his game, but I couldn’t think of any reason.Was this some sort of apology?

I decided to close my eyes, and relax. We were going to perform soon, so overthinking would only make the nerves that I always get from performing worsen.

I froze as I felt a moan escape my lips. My eyes shot open and I watched Izzy continue as if nothing happened. I tried to calm my breath as he continued teasing my hair, but another moan soon escaped my lips and that is when I saw it. A smirk had grown on his lips as he repeated to tease the same spot earning another moan. This bastard was doing it on purpose.

“Ohh baby you’re so hot when you moan like that,” I then felt him kiss the crook of my neck.

“Her cousin called her Shelley,” the moment I heard Axl’s voice, Izzy went back to finishing my hair.

“You fuckers ready to kill it tonight?” Slash shouted earning a fuck yeah from the two of us.

“Duff, did you know that Michelle used to go by Shelley? Isn’t that cute? It reminds me of a stripper or dancer” Axl asked before grabbing a beer.

I shrugged looking back at him before replying, “Doesn’t really fit her. Doesn’t look like a Shelley.”

“Did you see how she reacted when her cousin said it? I’m definitely going to be calling her that from now on,” Axl’s laughter echoed backstage which was quickly joined by the rest of my band excluding me.

“Is she seeing anyone? If not, I am definitely going to find her after this gig,” Slash smiled before taking another sip of whatever the fuck he was drinking.

“Well she will be here after the show right?” Izzy turned to me as he spoke.

“No, Derek, the guy who works with her at the coffee shop asked her out on a date tonight, so neither of them will be at the show,” I shrugged back and excused myself to go get another beer.

It had taken 20 minutes of me begging and pleading with Derek for him to ask her out. I used the excuse that I hated the Indiana boys’ guts which took him a lot of convincing. Eventually he caved when I offered to cover a shift for him next weekend. He asked Kendall on a fake date, and that was the end of that problem. At least that is what I thought until I saw Derek and Kendal in the crowd.

I waited at the bar and in an instant I knew that I was fucked. Standing only a few feet away from me was Derek and Kendal. I watched as he came over and his eyes caught mine while a flash of recognition crossed his face. I motioned for him to follow me, and he quickly made some excuse to Kendal.

We stood alone in the ally as I watched him try to find his words. For the first couple of seconds we stood in silence.

“Okay, what the actual fuck is going on? Why are you dressed as a guy? Is this your new band? Last and certainly not least who the fuck is Duff,” I sighed as Derek growled at me.

“Long story short, I got sick and tired of dealing with the bull shit of trying to make it on the strip as a chick, so one day I dressed as a guy for an audition and...boom Duff was born. I am running out of options Derek. Whatever it takes. That’s what you said only a couple of hours ago. You said that you would do whatever is takes to Make your dream come true. Well that’s what I’m doing here,” Derek remained silent as I spoke.

The seconds that it took for him to respond felt like hours. “I guess that explains the wig situation, why you really wanted me to ask out your cousin, along with why you were being nice to Axl and Izzy. Two people who you despised a couple months ago,” He ran his hands through his hair as he spoke. I could tell he was trying not to freak out.

I watched as he shook his head in shock. “How long do you plan on keeping up on this charade? Does anyone else know? Do you have a plan?”

“Once I get my record deal,yes, and my plan is to not fuck this up. But before you continue to judge me, put yourself in my shoes. I’m on borrowed time Derek. Please get my cousin out of here because she can’t find out. She just can’t,” I said before leaving him to go join my band backstage.

“Whoa Duff you okay?” I tuned to Steven as his voice caught my attention.

“Yeah, just a bit nervous,” I shrugged back.

He poured a pair of shots and we took them together.

“Alright boys, let’s show them what the fuck rock and roll is,” Axl shouted before we went on stage.

It was the last song in our encore.

The last note where Axl was screaming to the heavens.

That’s when Kendal and I made eye contact.

That’s when I saw recognition cross her face.

I watched as the smile fell from her face and she immediately shoved her way through the crowd.

Fuck.

She knew.

[emanedrees]

Project 1 FA222 Principles of Graphic Design

Interviews

David Carson was born in September 1954, and studied sociology in San Diego University.

He touched upon graphic designing briefly while attending a two-week commercial designing

class at the University of Arizona, in 1980. Subsequently, he attended the Oregon College of Commercial Art to study graphic designing and a three-week workshop in Switzerland as a part of his degree. Besides, his many talents include professional surfing and he was ranked 9th best surfer in the world, in 1989.

An Interview with David Carson:

Question 1: David, could you tell us a little about your new book?

Carson: It’s called The Rules of Graphic Design. I’m working on it now in Zurich, Switzerland, where I have a small studio, besides my one in the states. It will show a lot of the new work I’ve done over the past few years, and will, as the title suggests, finally get the official “rules” out on graphic design. It should be out early spring 2008. My first workshop I ever attended on graphic design was in Switzerland, so the book will no doubt be affected by my being here. I started it in the states and it will be finished there.

Question 2: As one of the most well-known and influential graphic designers in the world, how do you balance work and play? Do you still get to surf often?

Carson: I’ve always felt I make my living from my hobby, so I’m lucky in that respect. As Marshall McLuhan said, if you’re totally involved in something, it is no longer work, it’s “play or leisure.” I surf in the Caribbean every winter. There’s a perfect point break in my front yard. I watch the Internet surf reports, and when a swell is coming, I head down to the British West Indies. It’s a very special place and helps me recharge.

Question 3: When creating a design such as a magazine cover, article, or website, what are a few of the most important things a designer should consider?

Carson: Who is the audience, what is that audience’s visual language, what type of things are they seeing? How can you communicate and reinforce visually what is written or spoken, and how can you stand out from the competition in that particular field?

Question 4: You redesigned Surfer Magazine in 1991 and founded Ray Gun as well. How does redesigning a medium, whether it’s a magazine or advertising campaign, differ from creating something from scratch?

Carson: In some ways they are very similar. You have to determine who the audience is, and what is the message you want to portray through the design. A new design gives you a bit more freedom, as you can help define the language. I think Ray Gun helped establish a certain visual language for alternative music. But redesigning, or inventing something new, both have their challenges and rewards, and I enjoy both. As long as you look for the solution in the particular thing you are working on, and not some predetermined formula or system, you will never run out of ideas.

Question 5: I remember attending a seminar when you spoke at a local school here in Central Florida years ago, and you told us a story about where you had the text in a magazine article covered up or unreadable, but the layout was spectacular. Do you have any other humorous or quirky stories of editors getting mad that your layout caused the article to be unreadable?

Carson: You might be referring to the article I set in the font Dingbat, largely because I found the article very boring. To start designing, I have to read the article, or brief it or listen to the music, to see where it takes me visually and emotionally. It was [a] bit funny, maybe, that at Ray Gun some of the writers complained early that their articles were hard to read. But then by the 30th issue, the same writers would complain if they thought their articles were too easy to read! The layout came to signal something worthwhile to read, so the writers came to look forward to see how their words were interpreted.

Question 6: Some have said that you are heavily influenced by the ocean. Is that true, and where do you find other sources of inspiration when creating a design?

Carson: My environment always influences me. I’m always taking photos and I believe things I see and experience influence the work. Not directly, but indirectly in some shape or color or something that registers. The ocean has always played a big part in my life, but it’s hard to say exactly what that influence is in regards to the work. But I’m always scanning the environment I’m in, and I’m sure it ends up in the work.

I think it’s really important that designers put themselves into the work. No one else has your background, upbringing, life experiences, and if you can put a bit of that into your work, two things will happen: you’ll enjoy the work more, and you’ll do your best work. Otherwise, we don’t really need designers—anyone can buy the same programs and learn to do “reasonable, safe” design.

Question 7: You have branched out into directing television and video commercials. What aspects of print design do you also use when directing video? Do you often focus on typography as a major part of it?

Carson: I’m often asked to direct commercials where the type plays an important role, and sometimes I add type to other peoples’ work. My approach is very similar to print: who is the audience, what is the emotion of the spot, or the feeling we want the viewer to get from watching, and how visually can we make that happen?

Question 8: Could you give an example of a video project that you enjoyed directing? What software do you or your associates use when creating these, and do they include Adobe After Effects?

Carson: After Effects is hugely important in the commercials I work on. It’s hard to imagine how we did them before. Well, actually I know—we did them in very expensive suites in post-editing houses in Los Angeles and New York! I just did some work for Saturn cars, and it was almost all done with After Effects. It’s clearly the best tool for motion graphics. I directed an in-flight commercial for American Airlines—a 90-second spot—that I enjoyed very much, from casting the actors to selecting footage to having some fun with the type. I also made a commercial for the band Nine Inch Nails for the MTV music awards, and the launching of Lucent Technologies, which were type-only spots. In general, I’m drawn more toward moving images and type, but I’ll always do print, even though “print has ended.”

Question 9: Finally, what advice would you have for other graphic designers just starting out?

Carson: Do what you love, trust your gut, your instincts, and intuition. And remember the definition of a good job: If you could afford to, if money wasn’t an issue, would you do the same work? If you would, you’ve got a great job! If you wouldn’t, what’s the point? You’re going to be dead a long time. So find that thing, whatever it is, that you love doing, and enjoy going to work for, and not watch the clock or wait for weekends and holidays.

I learned from this interview, when creating any design, you must define the target audience, and what message you want to convey to the audience. One of David Carson's most important advice is that it is important to do what you love and to trust yourself, and find that thing, whatever it is, that you love doing, and enjoy going to work for, and not watch the clock or wait for weekends and holidays.

@uob-funoon

[zainabdhaif163]

FA222 / Principles of Graphic Design

Project 1

An interview with the designer / Sultan Al-Anzi

Q1: Sultan, introduce us to yourself?

Welcome, thank you Mr. Muhammad for giving me this opportunity through your distinguished blog that has always influenced Arabic content. I am Sultan Al-Enezi, a graphic designer specializing in building brands interested in Arabic typography. My experience in this field since 2002 has been between freelance and institutional work. .

Q2: We are happy to talk about your start in the field of graphic design?

I started out as a curiosity and it became a passion, and as is the habit of any Arab designer at that time, I started with Photoshop and considered it a design program against it. Frosted and inside one of the friend's pics with switching the image and color according to the friend and it was a creative thing in that period

I was interested in Arabic calligraphy and familiar with most of the calligraphers' paintings, and I was attracted to modern typography, and then I got acquainted with the Illustrator program and began to convert foreign fonts into Arabic and design some logos and icons .. I joined the studio team (Art Language) and then my actual start in the field of graphic design and as a specialist in sign design Commercial.

Q3: Tell us more about the Saudi designer from your point of view?

The Saudi designer faced challenges and was able to overcome them in a short time and proved his presence through his works related to his culture and society, which gave him a strong competitive advantage.

Q4: Are there educational institutions in the Kingdom that work to qualify designers for the market, or is it mostly on personal effort?

It exists, but it is not at the desired level, and recently I have seen beautiful progress in some areas, for example, but not limited to, at Princess Noura University (Department of Graphic Design and Digital Media). The outputs are good and cause for optimism. In my opinion, field training before entering the labor market is a good qualification for a designer and enables him to acquire experiences and skills that are not available to him in the study places.

Q5: You mentioned that you usually design fonts that you design for a specific client or for free use, and what are the stages of defining the font?

Most are the same as you'd prefer, usually started to a client, and end up with a full line of typefaces. The beginning of the search and inspiration, which is the longest and most effortless stage to reach an unconventional character that fits with the topic, so the design and the shape of the letters are built on the basis of the search from a pattern, weight, thickness, heights, angles ... etc. Then evaluation by consulting experts and those interested in this field and not interested in sometimes, which are overlapping and recurring stages.

Q6: I know that the Saudi labor market has many nationalities. In your opinion, what is the opportunity for a Saudi designer in this market?

This diamond-era period for the Saudi designer has proven his readiness and ability to address society with his works and deservedly.

Q7: Do you prefer self-employment or work in an institution, and why?

Self-employment for sure, but I would choose institutional work if it has a distinct environment and a distinct income. I believe that the designer will not reach his readiness for his own and free work until he passes through an institutional job that earns him experience, organization and good management.

Q8: Do you depend like everyone on digital marketing and social media, or vice versa?

Yes, very well but not in the ideal way.

Q9: How many percent can digital marketing bring large projects to the freelance designer?

By 80%, but the designer must choose the appropriate method or channel for the intensive marketing of his work, for example, public social networks such as (Instagram) and for designers and creative people such as (Behance), each of them differs from the other as the level of clients and its suitability for what you want to present, so the owners of large projects have become aware On the platforms that are a reference for them to search ..

Q10: What is your advice for newcomers in the field, especially those interested in free handwriting and logo design?

Rely on God and then on yourself to find solutions to the problems that you face in this field, search a lot and try a lot, develop your skills constantly, be up-to-date on what matters to your field, give this area of ​​your time a lot (his love .. loves you). Show your works constantly and distinctively, even if you think they are not worthy, then their beginning was like yours.

[parabellum-rpg-archive]

Congratulations, Meghan! You’ve been accepted to play Zoey Everett. Please make your page and send it in within 24 hours.

Admin note: This was such a hard decision to make because there were three other perfectly written auditions. I’m not even exaggerating, they were all perfect, spot on, flawless. In the end, I think you did such an amazing job at portraying Zoey. Everything felt so fluid in the samples, I could tell that you really connected with her. I can’t wait to see this character fleshed out even more!  - Admin V

IC INFORMATION —

CHARACTER DESIRED

Zoey Everett.

DESCRIBE THE CHARACTER IN YOUR OWN WORDS

No need to rewrite the biography - but who are they to you? What are their goals, ambitions, or flaws? Here’s your opportunity to show us who this character is to you.

I think Zoey is someone who is a complicated balance of strength, belief, and a sensitivity that borders on vulnerable. She had always been innately strong— however, shouldering the abuse meant for both her and her mother created something unbreakable inside her at a young age. She wouldn’t be cowed by intimidation. She wouldn’t retreat inside of herself when confronted. As a child, Zoey could do nothing to change her situation— but there wasn’t a single force in the world that could dictate how she should react.

Bruce’s hair-trigger temper was as fragile as tripwire, and Zoey learned quickly nothing would please him. It was better to retain every inch of her resolve instead of folding, better to keep a tight grip on her kindness in favor of becoming hard. These things couldn’t be beaten out of her— not even when she felt abandoned by her mother, or when the weight of hiding the abuse sat on Zoey’s chest like a weight.

Strength was a necessity, a survival tactic.

She was young, yes, still knobby-kneed and freckled, but she was firm in her sense of self— Zoey reacted to things on her own terms.

It would have been easier to harden herself, as a way of protection. Many children would have. But Zoey let herself remain sensitive to a full spectrum of emotions, let herself be moved by beautiful things, by new people, culture, something as simple as trying Italian ice for the first time, or something as grand as seeing La Pieta during a college trip.

Her warmth and sensitivity was not naive; instead it was incredibly purposeful. It was this strong sense of identity that helped her to endure. She wouldn’t lose herself to trauma.

Because of Zoey’s resolve, and her strength, as an adult she has an incredible capacity for sensitivity—allowing herself to be vulnerable in the most human of ways. Her job demands vulnerability. Reacting to art requires vulnerability, particularly abstract modern art, where so much of its meaning is dependent on what the viewer brings to the table.

You react to art; art reacts to you. It’s impossible for Zoey to harden herself to emotion and do her job well— she curates based on intuition, on what she anticipates others will feel from a particular piece. She can’t look at a Kandinsky with any less emotion than a Monet. Art, every medium it belongs to, moves Zoey with a profound intensity— the intention behind it, the history —and it’s in those emotions she feels closest to her father. To an alternate life she never had.

Six years old and gap-toothed, she would often park herself in front of her future inheritance; a collection of art so extensive it would make any collector green. But Zoey never saw it as the sum of its price tag.

The love she had for it was something innate.

Which is why I think her gallery is a representative of so much more for Zoey: a connection to the father she could never meet, concrete proof she had been able to escape her childhood. It’s symbolic. She could outgrow her past. Settle into her own interests and ambitions outside of her family, outside the trial that had consumed her life, the relationships that had been ruined by it.

The freedom in her life had always cost something.

Look what Bruce’s death had.

Which is why she has to move forward; Sonoma was the dream that propelled Zoey out of the pain of her childhood, and now it’s become everything to her.

Every cent of her money has been invested in this gallery. Partnering with the Costello’s may have been reckless, desperate, but she’s come too far to let give up now. The same strength that fuels her determination is the same thing that makes it impossible to let go.

She’s no idiot— she’s not unaware, either. Zoey is just someone who is determined to stand her ground, at the possibility of exposing herself to danger, to an uncertain future that risks bringing her face-to-face with things she once left behind.

Running away from fear isn’t in her blood, nor does she see it as an option.

WRITING SAMPLE

Provide as many IN CHARACTER samples as you like. At the very least, we expect three paragraphs written in third person. Aside from that, there are no rules. Please include anything you deem necessary.

The lock is clicked firmly on Zoey’s door. The line of her shoulders slacken. She can feel an ache in her upper arm; four red dots, the rough outline of fingers that will surely blossom into bruises the next day. She shrugs on a sweatshirt, unfolds the heavy book in her lap.

Her heart-rate slowly ticks down to normal.

The house is unnervingly silent now, and her eyes flicker down to the first open page, eager for distraction, and— oh.

Oh.

Of course it opens to this—Helen Frankenthaler. Jacob’s Ladder.

The art book had belonged to her father. Her real father, of course— not the monster that had done this to her arm — and the sight of his favorite painting makes Zoey’s eyes smart with tears, makes her throat tightens in a way it hasn’t in years.

Tears for the father she’d never gotten to meet.

They plop down onto the book with each deepening exhale, warping and wobbling the page beneath it.

This sadness for him feels fitting— but Zoey won’t give the other man her tears. She never had. She bore his anger with a set jaw, a firm determination that outstripped the usual maturity of a fifteen-year-old. He would never see her cry.

Not ever.

Letting her hand drift down the glossy pages seems to center Zoey’s mind. She clears her throat, quiet and purposeful, flips through the rest of the book with a growing calm.

There’s a peace that settles in around her, despite the situation.

She isn’t in this house anymore, with her stepfather fuming dangerously in the next room. Not entirely— Zoey is elsewhere. Standing next to saints and apostles on grassy hillsides, heads illuminated by gold leaf; lost in the reverence of the Middle Ages. She’s in a Friedrich next, peering over an imposing cliff. Southern France, Van Gogh, surrounded by yellow flowers.

It isn’t escapism as much as it’s inspiration. What had all these artists endured? What had the subjects of their paintings? Zoey sees herself reflected in these works, and there’s something fortifying about it, something that clears the mind and stokes determination. There was so much beauty, in the face of pain.

It’s only the buzz of her phone that pulls Zoey from her musings.

She reaches over with a reluctant hand, slow to answer until she sees the name flashing across the screen. Kai.

She smiles.

Patches of light in her life, patches of warmth— proof that it was not all bad, not simply storms and monsters.

She answers the phone without a trace of her leftover emotion. Kai can’t hear any lingering hurt her voice, not him; there are some thing she wants untouched by the pain at home.

Her step-father caused it, and her mother ignored it.

Zoey simply endured.

Somehow, eventually, it would be her that outlasted them all.

———-

Sunlight falls through the windows like tall patches of amber, and Zoey Everett steps into the building’s doorway, the ties of her green coat knotted loosely around her midsection.

It’s cold for this time of year.

The smile she gives the approaching man is almost sunny enough to compensate.

“Hi, Mr. Addams—we spoke on the phone earlier, I—”

“Yes. You’re Zoey?”

Crisp. Quick. To the point. She wonders why all of these artistic managers have to follow the same brusque script.

“That would be me.” A half-beat later. “I’m here about the possibility of curating few of your client’s pieces at Sonoma. Given how often the—”

“Yes.”

Another interruption, but not even to agree to her proposition; that much Zoey can tell. He’s simply cutting in to control the conversations run-time.

“I remember. You’re a representative for the own—”

This time its Zoey who cuts in with a firm, polite smile. Best to clear up any confusion now.

“I am the owner.”

There’s a weighted pause as the man considers this. It’s shock, mostly— there’s few, if any people who expect a gallery owner to look like her, and Zoey simple smiles in response, tries to re-direct the conversation as she glances at the art displayed inside the office building.

“We’re going to be exhibiting a few pieces from El Lissitzky soon…”

She walks idly along the row of oil paintings, allowing for a pause. He would’ve heard of this artist before. Zoey was proud of acquiring those, of the effort it took— Sonoma wasn’t some no-account gallery. It was smaller, and it was new. But it was going to be successful. She would give anything to ensure that it happened.

“Along with some contemporary pieces from a Chicago native. Really amazing stuff— similar use of geometric design, strong influence from 20th century typography…”

She has his attention now. There’s no script Zoey needs to follow for this—just the truth, the passion that bubbles up naturally.

“We want to be the future of Chicago’s art scene. And we’re going to be. There’s too many incredible artists in this city getting passed over for recognition because they fail to meet an incredibly specific criteria; because they’re not discovered by the same ten people who dictate where trends go.”

Zoey runs her thumb along the inside of her palm, smiles.

“Good art is good art, no matter who finds it.”

She thinks she can see a shade of agreement in the man’s eyes; his client had earned his recognition in ways that many in the art community deemed showy, too mainstream. But now he’s being lauded for it.

Mr. Addams makes a noise of vague approval. She takes it as a cue to drive this point forward.

“Your client’s work would fit perfectly with this season’s exhibit— particular his most recent pieces, the mixed-media? All that red? It would look incredible next to New Man.”

Something shifts on his face. There. That’s what she needs— even a glimmer of willingness to imagine with her. Just the smallest amount. Her voice grows warmer.

“It would be the perfect home for it. Along with all the other new pieces.”

“I want Sonoma to be a place to display some colleges student’s visual thesis alongside a Pollock. Old and new.”

“Pollock?” She can hear the skepticism in his voice, but it sounds friendlier now. Less brusque. “That would be near-impossible to acquire, wouldn’t it?”

“Yeah.” Zoey agrees, shouldering her bag with an easy smile. “But I’m going to.”

[libidomechanica]

Untitled (‘Imposed up each calumny that this love and arrow’)

Imposed up each calumny that this love 

and arrow, and even if  I knew that soar above the Singer  he was chang’d. Was printed 

stairs, a pail of  prison! By morning road that Midas brood  shall smell still better; and lying many; all 

is vanity, a placemen 

to gaze upon they made by Harrison;  even so for a meal— the  tears in vast and victory’s winner—  a day of typography of  forty though our story must tell for 

better part of marble looming like 

diamond is impossible to the 

door, that sons should be strictly moral;  much into hers, or  asp, had soil’d their treatment will be my great,  and to be pure immortal taint. 

That momentary trance, painting is  of no sort of carriage; so  leaving survives; up in Pennsylvania humps  on endlessly, wearing, like a racer,  or love, whereas this, as down  he came—and be seen in their Sunday’s 

decay; is this that  spring, form nor yet to breathes, and  these pretences to love’s son? To  ventures in: let not lead to him  it was adorning of  faithful pairs (I needs no praise, as Love, in  my friendless like to wait a wee, and  such a stedfast spell his heart should be  very day there were divert their  spell awakens the red grant as the 

prick’d the love) drown’d by the  parliament, and many a thick as  Ovid’s a rake, as for his  busy spade, which some stern philosophy; but  such as one deem’d middling grenadiers,  that here is not the old  men of weal and brilliant, w

hen he was short. All tragedy. Pride, fame,  and each night at your own eyes, Can such  a one ‘t will teach, if possible,  I trust, he cursed sort to be done,  which will cry to the last 

limits all his numerous  shame, in youth; but when you wake, sleepy  hand to you no lot of his  old love for post-house, what you a  root to the flock in woolly  fold: Beyond all his last  prayer, with mine, and  no one unto the hero 

of this, her weal of that if  I weep it will keep baking, but in  dying to rest, nor Britain’s one  sort of life’s a faught; the cause  I know not where, tree of knot-grass, yet God’s  throat shall forgive thee defeated,  by additions meet, and there beneath a  hissing and quiet in the  city there is no number, like the  postboys have become transparent the sacred 

priest that manner show’d the  individual man, half-taught the water’s  edge,’ and let the gentlemen,  who had for a meal— the 

teeth and his old Bench for those  cooler air There the restless be, for  hours after long. and thence, hath  saved, and often as the  Reflex of her garden-gate reviewed there,  I only used for each Medea for  a cavaliers, whose Honour, and  Debt, are such ladies to make it,  their feet her name and his nose, thy Mistress  stood, and rage, and their loyal treason,  rather on the rhyme may rouse  a bright arm of his opinion,  poorly designed to its pipe quite worn  out quite alone. Nor give much; a great moralists,  like angels weeping  Woman Old; she comes, she had gravel in a  convenient, and there, as warm youth, And 

who had forced forward to an 

evening with muffled, or burnt, turn’d  to kisse, thy song, hath yet a little  half an hour in spinning wherewith  their loves unlawful. ‘D’ the human  swains, receive; let but  minister: he like, were seen a  virtue was his heel seized me  yesternight of love and worthy Lust; nor  Valiant, when they took delights are 

but a picture, which with the  honour and rummaged every 

day did drop a flowers. Their troth  seal’d with intellect  some half an hour to choose not 

to love or hate, till it cease to  do. The TV  because to quote, 

he deem’d. She scarce could hinder himselfe, or some 

slight to have seen save to tak me  frae my mammy yet.  Seeing a naked walls.

[kvetchlandia]

eninAleksander Rodchenko     Cover Photographs, Design and Typography for Vladimir Mayakovsky’s “Sergeiu Eseninu” (To Sergei Essenin), Moscow     1926

You have passed, as they say, into worlds elsewhere. Emptiness... Fly, cutting your way into starry dubiety. No advances, no pubs for you there. Sobriety. No, Essenin, this is not deridingly,- in my throat not laughter but sorrow racks. I see - your cut-open hand maddeningly, swings your own bones like a sack. Stop it, chuck it! Isn't it really absurd? Allowing cheeks to flush with deathly hue? You who could do such things with words, that no one else on earth could do. Why, for what? Perplexity appalls. Critics mutter: 'The main fault we find there was hardly any working-class contact at all, as a result of too much beer and wine.' So to say, if you had swopped bohemianism for class, there'd have been no bust-up, class'd have influenced your thinking. But does class quench its thirst with kvass? Class, too, is no fool when it comes to drinking. They'd have attached to you someone from On Guard, and the main accent would have been on content: a hundred lines a day you'd have written hard, as tedious and long-winded as Doronin's attempts. Before I'd created such nonsensical stink, I'd have choked my very own breath. Better far to die of drink, than be bored to death! Neither the noose nor the penknife there will reveal the true cause of this loss. But, maybe, if there had been ink in the Angleterre, there'd have been no reason for veins to be cut. 'Encore!' imitators coo in delight. Over you almost a squad committed base jinks. Why increase the number of suicides? Better to increase the output of ink! It's grievous and misplaced to be mystery-propagators. For ever now your tongue by teeth's locked tight. Of the people, the language-creators, a sonorous apprentice-debauchee has died. And, as condolences, poetic junk they gave, unrehashed hangovers from funerals of the past. Blunted rhymes are shoved in to exorcise your grave- is that how a poet is honoured at the last? A monument for you hasn't yet been cast- where it is, bronze reverberant or granite grand? - but there, already, by memory's bars dedications and memoirs of rubbish stand. Your name into handkerchiefs they're sniveling, your words by Sobinov are slobberingly lisped there- and they wind up under a dead birch tree quivering: 'Not a word, O my friend, not a wh-i-s-p-e-r,' Eh, to a quite a different tune I'd switch and just tell that Leonid Lohengrinich! I'd rise up here a thundering scadalist: 'I won't allow poems to be mangled by mutts! I'd deafen them with a double-barreled whistle. They can stick 'em where the monkey stuck his nuts!' And so disperse such talentless filth, blowing away jacket-sails engendered darkness, so that helter-skelter runs Kogan and his ilk, mutilating oncomers with the spears of his moustaches. The ranks of rubbish meanwhile haven't grown much thinner. There's so much to do - just to catch up with things yet. Life must be changed to begin with. And having changed it - then one can sing it. These days are difficult for the pen. But tell me, you crooks and cripples wheezy, which great ones ever choose- where and when? a path already trodden smooth and easy? The word - in the C-in-C of human powers. Forward march! That time may whistle by as rockets flare. So the wind shall carry to the past of ours only the ruffling of our hair. Our planet is poorly equipped for delight. One must snatch gladness from the days that are. In this life it's not difficult to die. To make life is more difficult by far.

--Vladimir Mayakovsky, “To Sergei Essenin”   1926

Goodbye, my friend, goodbye My love, you are in my heart. It was preordained we should part And be reunited by and by. Goodbye: no handshake to endure. Let's have no sadness - furrowed brow. There's nothing new in dying now Though living is no newer.

--Sergei Essenin, “Goodbye My Friend, Goodbye”  1925

Goodbye My Friend, Goodbye, was Sergei Essenin’s final poem, written in his own blood the day before he took his life by hanging.

[hannahwaterman]

Professional Practice Talks

Jonathan Barnbrook

Jonathan Barnbrook is an experienced and exciting graphic designer with rock and roll spirit and an eye for detail. He covered many topics in his talk for us, including his time working with the late David Bowie. He has his own design studio called Barnbrook, where he and his team work on album covers, branding and typography.

Jonathan made a point of declaring design to be a lifestyle, not just a career, and he said that graphic designers “should not like design too much”. He says to “do pure extreme work that you love”, adding that the main criteria we should take into consideration when taking on work, is whether or not we find it interesting. He says that portfolios should represent what we want to do, not what looks professional or makes us look commercially viable. I enjoyed his optimistic and passion-driven outlook on his career.

Barnbrook is an experienced album cover designer - “there’s something special about graphic design’s relationship to music” he says. Although his work has been praised by critics and fans alike, he received hate mail galore for his work on Bowie’s “The Next Day”, which he looks back on as a pretty standard job hazard when doing branding for much loved cultural icons.

He persuasively argues that “good graphic designers tell the truth”, and encourages us to “stay away from corporations that want you to lie for them”. He says imagination is more important than knowledge of theory and history, insisting that “everything is research”, and the best way to be a researched designer is to take in visual information from every facet of your daily life, taking influence from as many sources as possible.

I found Barnbrook’s talk to be very inspiring and heartfelt. I’m very glad he took the time to explain to us about his practice, and his thoughts on the practice of design generally.

Monique Jackson

Monique Jackson is a Brighton University illustration graduate, who has gone onto being a professional illustrator, workshop facilitator, podcaster, and activist. Since first falling ill with Covid-19 in March 2020, she has suffered from a drawn out battle with a novel chronic post-viral illness named Long-Covid. She started an Instagram account to document her journey with the syndrome, chronologically journalling her Coronavirus infection and subsequent illness, named Corona Diary, and has garnered attention from the media and other activists looking to raise awareness of the dangers of Long-Covid syndrome. She has gone onto make documentary style videos and interviews with other Covid-19 survivors.

Monique encourages art students not to be afraid to work in many different industries at once - her illustration, videos, activist work and workshop jobs have all played roles in the success of each other. Being a creative person, Monique says, means you should feel confident to have your fingers in many pies, and try many different kinds of creative roles.

Network, network, network, she encouraged us to do as BA students, saying that her success is down to nepotism and remarking “it’s not what you know, it’s who you know”. Monique told us that it’s been beneficial for her to meet people from many different industries and mediums, as it has expanded her creative practice outward into many different walks of life. Monqiue’s experiences with Long-Covid have lead her to tell us that “pain is a teacher”; and we should take our life experiences, and our pain, and turn them into something beautiful and useful, and if you want to be a good ally to those affected by painful causes, she says to ask questions and try to understand where other people are coming from.

Kate Gibb

Kate Gibb is a commercial illustrator and printmaker, whose weapon of choice is silk screen. She describes her method of screen printing as unorthodox and freeform - the unconventional technique makes her stand out from the crowd. Kate says her work is all about process, and therefore employing less technically strict workflow methods allow for a more tactile and free creative process. Make it up, and do what feels good, she says. Not many civilians these days are too aware of what screen printing entails and how the technique works, and therefore clients can be misinformed about Kate’s limitations. She says it’s important to explain carefully to clients how your process works, and what one can and cannot do. In order to make her client work easier and keep clients happier, she employs what she calls “digital silk screen” - she prints layer by layer in one dark colour, scans those in, and then puts them in photoshop to layer them over each other and colour them. This method makes client requests and alterations much faster and more flexible. I really enjoyed listening to Kate Gibb talk about her innovative ways of practicing an older printing style in a modern world. She also talked a lot about inspiration and creativity, remarking that “it is most important to make original intuitive work that you enjoy”, and that as creatives we should be collecting inspiration from many many sources, from every aspect of our lives. She pressed us to “keep collaborating, keep on learning, and remain open to a bigger experience”. Kate made a plea for us to stay authentic to ourselves and try not to get jealous of other artists - she said, “you’re not going to make anybody’s work but your own”, so there is no point wishing you could make the work someone else made.

Tim Wan 

Tim Wan is a graphic designer who has most notably worked for COlours Magazine. His favourite projects to work on are layout and print design. He has worked for fashion, design and photography magazines as well as working on branding for bands, real estate agents and even P&O ferries. He is enthused about how travel can inspire creativity, how lunch is super important and breaks through the workday help productivity and team spirit, and how visual collaboration is an imperative creative tool.

Tim enjoys creating brand identities and tells us to break each element down into small pieces, zooming in and out of a project in huge detail to assess every small element of a design or set of designs, to see how each small piece contributes and communicates the brand identity. Tim tells us to constantly have self initiated projects on the go in order to keep energised.

Adam Bridgland

Adam Bridgland says he “accidentally” became a printmaker and that he is very glad that life brought him to that point. He was told by a peer that he painted repetitively and made works like that of a printmaker, so he began to express himself using printing techniques. He says he enjoys being a graphic designer because he enjoys working to deadlines, and it allows his creativity to be more strictly channelled. One of his most well known and favourite parts of his practice is to put typographic work out in open landscapes, as installations for everybody in that area to witness and enjoy. He says “design alone can never be as good as design in context.”

Chloé Legret

Chloe is an excellent graphic designer whose main practice consists of typography. She talked to us about appreciating naivety in your work, setting visual rules and restrictions in order to aide your process, and how to design your own type faces to best get your message across. Chloe loves to use letterpress to create her work and says that the imperfections that hand printing creates makes the design outcomes much more special. 

Chloe addressed the differences in working styles between corporate and boutique studios. She tells us not to be afraid fo corporate work as it’s not as big and scary as young designers tend to think. She also really loves having side hustles and told us about the benefits of having as many side projects and passion projects as possible. I can relate to Chloe as she expressed that she works weekends and evenings, just because she loves type design so much that it energises her and stays fun in her off time. I feel similarly about my work and I often finish workdays wanting to continue working. 

[jacobsmith321]

A-Z: Coast to Coast Shore to Shore Typography:

A Graduate named “Johan Elmehag” of Malmö University, designed an editorial book on how the rise in sea level caused major effects in coastal areas, due to climate change. However, each coastline and shore’s edge is used as an outline to create the design for a letter in their typeface.

Elmehag knew that people do not like to talk about serious topics and that anything concerning something as major and buzz-wording as “climate change” can put people off. He said that  “Since the topic of climate change is an uncomfortable one, I knew I needed to make a curious artefact, where a reader’s intrigue would outweigh their fear of the content” and that making it an A-Z book, would make the experience easier when dwelling into the topic (Elmehag).

These images are from: (Morley, 2019)

All the information is written in a sans serif typeface in a thin font. This adds a professional 

The pages present the running header with ‘A-Z’ at the top of the left page and ‘Shore to Coast’ on the right. This differentiates the page’s subjects. The far right (on the left page) and the far left (on the right page) have the page numbers, the left page’s bottom has the letter and the right page’s bottom has the costal name, with the far left (on the left side) and the far right (on the right side) have coordinates of what looks to be there locations.

This arrangement of the numbers and letters creates the illusion, which makes sense considering the global theme of the world being effected by climate change and we’re exploring the how each area has changed. But also resembling maps, adding more to that adventurous, coastal feeling.

The design of the A-Z left page, has the letter typeface design (which is noted by the official letter at the Bottom, so for example if ‘A’ was the main design, the bottom would have a little ‘A’).

The right page however has an image of a planet that’s black and white, but the white empty space is what’s been used to design the letter’s look (shown in red). But it’s noted that Elmehag’s intention was to have the letters map out where the most heavily affected areas are, if the all the ice in the world, entirely melt (Morley, 2019).

Under the planet there’s a title called ‘AFFECTED COUNTLESS IN THE BAY OF NORTH ITALY INCLUDES ITALY AND SLOVENIA’ in all caps with some vital information underneath. However, the text isn’t a massive text wall of small point letters. There’s a 2 row and 1 column structure to this text page.

What this page does brilliantly is how by looking at the imagery you can instantly make that connection, which acts as the bait to reel you in and you’re probably thinking “ok you got me, I’m interested, let’s look more into this”.

There’s lots of negative space to allow the designs to breath, so you’re not scared by an incoming text wall, as it uses the visuals to tell a story and the words provide more context.

Images are from: (Elmehag, 2015)

The book resembles a guide handbook with the typeface on the front (A-Z) with the cover having a lovely dark grey and a lot of space. The appearance gives off continental vibes by the letter’s designs and the ‘A-Z’ makes you curious what it means (it doesn’t say a lot but it works).

The book’s in a bag with ‘Future World Map Poster’ and Download Link to the font. 

Before getting into it, there’s a piece of paper talking about the typeface (written both in a sans serif typeface and a bold font, along with the typeface Elmehag had created, replacing certain words (having them in circle can represent the coasts and shores on the earth Elmehag outlined). Also stating how each letter has regional info, which interests the user.

The map is cool as the blue adds this sense of calm but can relate to the cold, ice and sea (melting ice and rising seas, as well as coasts being affected) and in specific spots there are letters from the typeface. They’re marked at the bottom for you to find them (as they mark their coastal names and whatever letter’s placed where, that’s the coast) but if you wish for more context, there’s a book to read.

It’s not a perfect map but it’s enough to spread and imply the idea.

There isn’t just information and typeface designs, as there’s lovely illustration added in as well, such as this double page spread talking about flood control (the text’s place and shape and layout of the drawing add some balance and helps fill in a slight gap whilst maintaining enough space (also using the typeface as an illuminated initial). 

This book is astounding as it’s like I’m reading and looking at a story or sketch book, it captivates me with it’s simple and spaced layout and though I chose this subject, climate change can be a scary and depressing topic; this books draws me in and relaxes me with it’s colours, intriguing designs and well thought out/inspirational typeface.

Elmehag, J. (2015, May 31). A-Z: Coast to Coast Shore to Shore. Retrieved October 29, 2020, from Behance: https://www.behance.net/gallery/66277437/A-Z-Coast-to-Coast-Shore-to-Shore

Morley, M. (2019, January 9). A Typeface to Visualize Climate Change and the Future of our Coastlines. Retrieved October 29, 2020, from Eye On Design: https://eyeondesign.aiga.org/a-typeface-to-visualize-climate-change-and-the-future-of-our-coastlines/

[jessica-harrison]

Branding

Cover photo: https://www.forbes.com/sites/allbusiness/2017/09/14/branding-for-small-businesses-made-simple/

So, What is branding? Is it a logo, a symbol, typography, specific core values? Well, it is all of those. Branding is something that should speak volumes about a product or and individual. It’s something (I must admit!) that I have neglected, but with some solid research, my approach to this area is improving.

Before drafting my initial logo, I carried out some research into design examples within the industry. Envato published an excellent document that outlines design trends and colour schemes across various industries and sectors (https://envato.com/c/TrendReport_2020.pdf). 

Neon colour palettes, retro style and the 80′s are very much on-trend right now. Bright, neon and vibrant is precisely the kind of colour scheme and aesthetic I’d like to adopt when creating my logo, but I want to keep it as simple as possible.

With the colour schemes and design trends researched, I wanted to find some examples of logos that incorporated these. 

(https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Tron_1982_logo.PNG)

(https://dribbble.com/shots/14453487-36-logos-NASA)

(https://99designs.co.uk/blog/creative-inspiration/futuristic-logos/)

(https://amstane.com/after-effects-templates/futuristic-logo-animation-ae-template/)

I initially created a logo inside a template using Adobe Photoshop (yes, I know, rookie mistake!), which was the final result. Whilst yes, it’s aesthetically pleasing, it does, however, pose several problems for me. It was created inside a raster graphic based application (Photoshop) and had just my initials in. So, the logo will be significantly affected when scalability comes in to play. Also, nobody can instantly know who I am. I’m more than just a bunch of letters!

I then found a fascinating article about logos, and the dos and don’ts (https://www.creativebloq.com/graphic-design/pro-guide-logo-design-21221#david-aireys-10-golden-rules-of-logo-design). They mention some of the basic rules when creating a logo. Some of the most important to me are; treasuring the sketchpad, working in black and white, and simplicity aids recognition.

I ignored the typography within the logos I had researched. I required something that had my full name in and created using vector art. This way, I would have no scalability issues. To gain a more angular, techy, futuristic-looking logo, I took this font (https://www.dafont.com/amuse-bouche.font?text=JESSICA+HARRISON) and manipulated it inside Adobe Illustrator to make it unique and personal to me.

Overthinking logo design is easy to do, but genuinely treasuring my sketchpad took something from like this...

...to and an early draft version of this, inside Adobe Illustrator. Again only a draft version, but an improvement on the previous version. I also think I need to remove the circle, and I'll stick purely with the font. I will continue to edit the text points to create a unique and flowing feel to my branding.

Now I have the black and white versions of my logo; it was time to add colour. I will keep it to a single neon colour. That way I can keep the design simple, but really colourful and super vibrant, just like me :) This time around you can see I've changed the look a little. I'm happy with this final design. Edgy, techy, and I think something that represents me as an individual. I've also prepared black and white versions of the logo and corresponding favicons for my website.

Core Values

As I mentioned at the beginning of this post, branding is a lot more than just a logo. It is also about the values that I, as a creative individual, possess and apply them to my work. Core values, and well-established ones at that, can catapult an already established brand, to an, even more, well-known brand. Values are the essence of who we are as people. In this article by Anthem Branding, they quote their senior brand strategist as saying "The brand that you put out in the world reflects much more than just the product that you're selling. It speaks to what you as a company believe in, your personality, your aesthetic, a vision for the industry you're in, and the culture you represent and stand for".(https://medium.com/@anthembranding_boulder/what-are-brand-core-values-513efc84f989). Before I can address this question, I must first examine what I believe, which five core values best apply to me, Jessica Harrison. My top 5 core values are:

Before I can use these logos in any designs, I need to ensure the web and print (merchandise one day...) logos are optimised. Being that I'm not a graphic designer, I needed a little help making sure I did this final step right. I found a beneficial article here (https://hoodzpahdesign.com/design-workflow-how-to-efficiently-save-your-final-logos/). The digital logos were exported as .jpg, .png, and .svg formats as they are RGB colour based. I exported the print-based logos as Illustrator .eps, which is a vector format used for printing.

Respect - I hold in high regard. To me, respect is much more than just please and thanks yous. It is also about respecting peoples creative differences and allowing that to enrich you as a person. It is also about respect my craft and that I would love to. That respect will be evident in how I portray myself and my work.

Constant Improvement - So many times as a musician/composer, I have plateaued. Hit a rut, or more well known as 'writers' block'. Finding new and creative ways to carry out my work is crucial in not reaching a plateau. Plateaus blunt creativity!

Accountability - Something that people often disregard. Being accountable for the amount of work you do is essential when working as a professional sound designer/composer in games or film and TV—working to strict deadlines when you have a potentially already crammed work schedule. Being held accountable for our actions is something we all should do, but not so much that it causes detriment to what we are trying to achieve.

Passion - without passion and love for what I'm doing, why the heck am I doing it? Presenting your work and speaking about it passionately, tells the world and potential employers so.

Teamwork - teamwork is the backbone of everything within creative industries, particularly within games or TV & Film. Individuals can bring some astonishing things to the table when working on a film production or game. Still, at the end of the day, that final product, the one we all sit down to watch (or listen to) was a culmination of dedication, passion, accountability, respect, constant improvement and TEAMWORK! 

[chandi800]

post/167757954513/ 20, and the blank for 19 is 'sleepy life discussions at 6 am with your best friend' :)

20. All the questions!-Lets do this.

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1. A video game you’d recommend.-Hoooooo boy this question. My favorite game series is the Mass Effect series. The trilogy, to be more specific. I haven’t played Andromeda (I’m honestly iffy about it, I loved the trilogy and Shepard so much). I’d recommend the Mass Effect trilogy. It’s a lotta story with some action (and romance, if you really focus on it). Another favorite series is the Fallout series. I think New Vegas is my top fave. I love 4 and how much better Fallout got but New Vegas is always such a fun game to play. I’m more of a lore and story kinda person so I’m always down for games that either have good stories or stuff you kinda dig into (I mean, when I first got Overwatch, another great game I recommend lmao, literally the first thing I did before really playing it was researching all the heroes and getting to know their backgrounds and what not. It’s so interesting to me).

2. Favorite pair of socks.-I don’t think I really have a favorite pair but I wear these sporty black ankle socks all the time that are fun. I have like way too many pairs of those. They’re black with neon accent colors. I also had Star Wars socks that I loved but they’re super thin and got worn out really easily lol

3. An odd thing from your room.-Well, I’m in my dorm rn and I got this little marquee light box for Christmas and I finally put something on it…

4. If you made a gang what would the design/text on the back of our matching jackets be?-We would be the Blatherskites just because I think that’s a fun word and accurately describes me most of the time. Maybe like some denim jackets with a white “Blatherskites” on it and red question marks all around that haha.

5. If you were in a fantasy world what would be your 'trademark' item/feature?-Uuuuhhhhh bow and arrows....flaming arrows i dunno that sounds cool

6. If you were an NPC, what quest would give (and what reward)?-I can only think about Fallout New Vegas with this question for some reason so in FNV style, my quest would be to find my lucky dog tags that I dropped back in a mutant-infested building. Reward: 100 caps and the opportunity to have me as their companion.

7. Dream LEGO set?-I’m not sure but I want like...some Star Wars lego sets please. Like something to build. That would be fun.

8. Do you have any scout badges?-Nope

9. A book you’d recommend.-Jurassic Park! I love all the details in it.

10. Favorite ‘made up’ creature from any universe?-I love Turians from the Mass Effect series. Garrus is my fave haha.

11. What instrument(s) do you play/any you wish you could play?-I have a guitar that I play around with and I’m slowly learning more as I mess with it. I wish I could play piano!

12. A character you wish you could pull off the perfect cosplay for?-A femshep cosplay would be awesome. Gotta get buff and stuff tho.

13. Favorite Terrible™ movie?-As much as I enjoy The Room, I gotta give it to Birdemic.

14. Do you speak any other languages?-Not like fluently or anything. I barely know some ASL from taking one class in high school and I think I know a decent amount of Spanish. I really wanna learn French.

15. How many time telling devices are in the room with you?-5?

16. A random useless fact you know.-I know like basic anatomy of typography since I took a typography class last semester.

17. Create a tag urself meme description of yourself.-hnnnnn no thanks too lazy

18. What is your weapon of choice?-Uh idk a knife? lmao. I was thinking about video games and in games, I always enjoy like bolt-action rifles idk I like the way they shoot in games. Side note: Idk why but I’ve been really wanting a combat knife ‘cause they look cool. I don’t NEED a combat knife, now that I think about it. I know why my brain wants that knife.

19. Do you like “sleepy life discussions at 6 am with your best friend”?-Haha yes, I really enjoy those conversations. I love that it’s like, the later we stay up, the more open and honest we get with each other. It’s really nice. I’d honestly be down to do that again sometime

Thanks for the ask “Ask Thing”