See more In The Back of Beyond.
16 December 2009
13 December 2009
Audience
I suppose you can't really complain that you're being "stalked" when you write in a public forum, like a blog — surely that's a risk you must accept.
An old girlfriend (depending on who you ask — see below)* with whom I had a rather melodramatic falling out still reads this from time to time. Or tries to, at least. I have her IP address blocked, but I don't put all that much effort into it, and it's easy to spot when she goes out of her way to find a way around. I'm ambivalent about this — mildly irritated, I suppose (she really should have no cause for curiosity about my life), yet flattered at the interest (even if it has occasionally been expressed in obsessive bursts of activity on the stats).
* I never considered her to be a girlfriend, but I found out after-the-fact that she considered herself to be one — at least, when it became convenient to do so.
She has written to a blog, as well (several in fact — this one is best if you start from the beginning, at the bottom), and it was with some interest last year that I followed the ongoing drama of someone who was apparently stalking her through her blog. (Not that one, though, this was a different blog.) I watched as the comments posted went from familiar — this was obviously someone she knew — to amusingly odd to creepy, then threatening. (I've never understood why she didn't just turn on Comment Moderation.) Wait, who am I kidding? I have no right to ambivalence! I was watching this spectacle with consuming interest, amused that she had once again managed to entangle herself where she ought not to have, as had become her custom when we were still close. ("Walking the border of propriety" was how she phrased it.) Her blog had never been so interesting!
(Any idea of "propriety" had long disappeared by the time our friendship dissolved, but that's a story for another time.)
I tend to avoid too many specific details about my personal life when I write here, not because of her (or whomever else may be reading), but because I jealously guard my privacy and anonymity. I've avoided using my son's name 'till now, for example. (I'll probably continue to avoid doing so.) In fact, I don't use anyone's name — I can't even be bothered to make up fake names.
I've thought about not thinking about it, and I might just stop blocking the site altogether. I don't feel threatened, not really, but part of me is hesitant to surrender that small bit of selectivity over my audience.
An old girlfriend (depending on who you ask — see below)* with whom I had a rather melodramatic falling out still reads this from time to time. Or tries to, at least. I have her IP address blocked, but I don't put all that much effort into it, and it's easy to spot when she goes out of her way to find a way around. I'm ambivalent about this — mildly irritated, I suppose (she really should have no cause for curiosity about my life), yet flattered at the interest (even if it has occasionally been expressed in obsessive bursts of activity on the stats).
* I never considered her to be a girlfriend, but I found out after-the-fact that she considered herself to be one — at least, when it became convenient to do so.
She has written to a blog, as well (several in fact — this one is best if you start from the beginning, at the bottom), and it was with some interest last year that I followed the ongoing drama of someone who was apparently stalking her through her blog. (Not that one, though, this was a different blog.) I watched as the comments posted went from familiar — this was obviously someone she knew — to amusingly odd to creepy, then threatening. (I've never understood why she didn't just turn on Comment Moderation.) Wait, who am I kidding? I have no right to ambivalence! I was watching this spectacle with consuming interest, amused that she had once again managed to entangle herself where she ought not to have, as had become her custom when we were still close. ("Walking the border of propriety" was how she phrased it.) Her blog had never been so interesting!
(Any idea of "propriety" had long disappeared by the time our friendship dissolved, but that's a story for another time.)
I tend to avoid too many specific details about my personal life when I write here, not because of her (or whomever else may be reading), but because I jealously guard my privacy and anonymity. I've avoided using my son's name 'till now, for example. (I'll probably continue to avoid doing so.) In fact, I don't use anyone's name — I can't even be bothered to make up fake names.
I've thought about not thinking about it, and I might just stop blocking the site altogether. I don't feel threatened, not really, but part of me is hesitant to surrender that small bit of selectivity over my audience.
Sketches: Six Cult Films
Slowly, inexorably, this book became a disproportionately irritating and time-consuming project, and I'm relieved to be finished with it. That said, though, the cover turned out better than I might have expected.
Work on the book dragged on for months and months (and months), so I had plenty of time for thought as to how I might approach the cover. I had only poor quality cover art (see my earlier post), so I needed to keep that reasonably small, and let the cover be defined largely by type, rather than those images. The number "6" seemed like it might be an interesting element to build the design around.
But after a page of design sketches, pragmatism began to set in ― along with concern that I could end up putting a great deal of time and effort into a design concept that would probably never be accepted by the Author. That, and I realized that I had somehow forgotten that the full title of the book was not Six Cult Films, but Six Cult Films From The Sixties.
So off I went off on a tangent that I hoped might be more straightforward, more simple.
This eventually became the finished design, seen below. I was concerned that breaking up the title might make it more difficult to follow — or, to be honest, easier for the Author to object to — or inadvertently change the emphasis (if the second half of the title were at the top of the cover, for example). All the elements just seemed to fit best this way.
You know, I was really expecting much more resistance to this cover design than it received. (If only the rest of the book had been that easy.)
Work on the book dragged on for months and months (and months), so I had plenty of time for thought as to how I might approach the cover. I had only poor quality cover art (see my earlier post), so I needed to keep that reasonably small, and let the cover be defined largely by type, rather than those images. The number "6" seemed like it might be an interesting element to build the design around.
But after a page of design sketches, pragmatism began to set in ― along with concern that I could end up putting a great deal of time and effort into a design concept that would probably never be accepted by the Author. That, and I realized that I had somehow forgotten that the full title of the book was not Six Cult Films, but Six Cult Films From The Sixties.So off I went off on a tangent that I hoped might be more straightforward, more simple.
This eventually became the finished design, seen below. I was concerned that breaking up the title might make it more difficult to follow — or, to be honest, easier for the Author to object to — or inadvertently change the emphasis (if the second half of the title were at the top of the cover, for example). All the elements just seemed to fit best this way.
You know, I was really expecting much more resistance to this cover design than it received. (If only the rest of the book had been that easy.)
Susan Slept Here
I was watching Susan Slept Here this afternoon while working, mostly out of curiosity — I've seen so much of Dick Powell at Warner Bros. in the 1930s, mostly in musicals, and this was his last film as an actor (by choice). He's quite likeable here, but bland, which is more or less as I remember him from his early films (when he wasn't singing). He might have had a long career as a "nice guy" — he reminds me of Fred MacMurray, but without quite so much character.
Like Fred MacMurray, I think Powell's most memorable late-career roles were the occasions where he was cast against type, such as Murder, My Sweet. (He reportedly wanted to play the lead in Double Indemnity.) Watching him defy expectations in a film like that, you can't help but wonder how he might have fared in more (for lack of a better word) nuanced dramatic roles. But I'm not sure he had it in him.
The most pleasant surprise was that Susan Slept Here was directed by Frank Tashlin. There's a wonderful sort of heightened reality in Tashlin's films, with character actors that walk off with most every scene (though much less so here than at the height of his career a few years later). Perhaps that's what made Dick Powell seem so bland in comparison.
Like Fred MacMurray, I think Powell's most memorable late-career roles were the occasions where he was cast against type, such as Murder, My Sweet. (He reportedly wanted to play the lead in Double Indemnity.) Watching him defy expectations in a film like that, you can't help but wonder how he might have fared in more (for lack of a better word) nuanced dramatic roles. But I'm not sure he had it in him.
The most pleasant surprise was that Susan Slept Here was directed by Frank Tashlin. There's a wonderful sort of heightened reality in Tashlin's films, with character actors that walk off with most every scene (though much less so here than at the height of his career a few years later). Perhaps that's what made Dick Powell seem so bland in comparison.
07 December 2009
Sketches: Kyle's Inventions
This year, I've decided to give my seven-year-old a gift every bit as appropriate as the iPod Touch was to a six-year-old — his very own logo!
Don't you give me that look...
One of the first things I did after my company logo was finished was to order a mug with it — more than one, now that I think of it — which now sits proudly on the shelf next to my desk, holding my set of fine-tipped Sharpie Markers. I think it was all of $15. (I also spent $200 on a very small number of embroidered baseball caps, but those were better times.) So I thought it would be fun to design a logo for my son (for a fictitious business), and get him some stuff — a mug, a magnet, a cap, perhaps even a sweatshirt. I think it will be a nice surprise.
There's a long and fabled tradition in design of concepts being sketched out on cocktail napkins — this one was on the back of a receipt from the grocery store.
My son is preoccupied with machines, and the making of his own machines, and I knew the idea of "gears" would appeal to him. (I thought about trying to make a "K" out of the teeth of a gear, but that wasn't going to work.) And he says he wants to be an inventor when he grows up.
I ended up going in a slightly unexpected direction with the type, because I had trouble finding the perfectly circular "e" that I wanted to use. (In the end, I think I redrew the "e" from this typeface to make it work the way I wanted.) But it worked out better than I had expected, and I think it provides a sort of classic "mechanical" look that fits well with the gears.
(Originally, it was just going to be "Kyle Inventions," but I thought it would make more sense to a seven-year-old as "Kyle's Inventions.")
I set up the various products late last night, and I'll order them soon. (I only hope my seven-year-old is a less harsh critic than some of the people I've done work for through the years.)
Don't you give me that look...
One of the first things I did after my company logo was finished was to order a mug with it — more than one, now that I think of it — which now sits proudly on the shelf next to my desk, holding my set of fine-tipped Sharpie Markers. I think it was all of $15. (I also spent $200 on a very small number of embroidered baseball caps, but those were better times.) So I thought it would be fun to design a logo for my son (for a fictitious business), and get him some stuff — a mug, a magnet, a cap, perhaps even a sweatshirt. I think it will be a nice surprise.
There's a long and fabled tradition in design of concepts being sketched out on cocktail napkins — this one was on the back of a receipt from the grocery store.
My son is preoccupied with machines, and the making of his own machines, and I knew the idea of "gears" would appeal to him. (I thought about trying to make a "K" out of the teeth of a gear, but that wasn't going to work.) And he says he wants to be an inventor when he grows up.
I ended up going in a slightly unexpected direction with the type, because I had trouble finding the perfectly circular "e" that I wanted to use. (In the end, I think I redrew the "e" from this typeface to make it work the way I wanted.) But it worked out better than I had expected, and I think it provides a sort of classic "mechanical" look that fits well with the gears.(Originally, it was just going to be "Kyle Inventions," but I thought it would make more sense to a seven-year-old as "Kyle's Inventions.")
I set up the various products late last night, and I'll order them soon. (I only hope my seven-year-old is a less harsh critic than some of the people I've done work for through the years.)
06 December 2009
Johnny Mercer
I've been watching a documentary on Johnny Mercer this afternoon, while working. (It will air again this month.) I'm embarassed to admit that I had no idea he was a part of so many of my favorite songs.
Same-Sex Marriage
I'm fascinated with this issue of same-sex marriage, and I'm curious as to why there doesn't seem to be more support for the issue when brought before the public. Some will say that this is because opponents have been better at mobilizing against, or that there's greater support among young voters, and they don't tend to vote in great numbers — I don't know how much truth there is to either. I suspect public opinion may be more divided on this issue than the legislative and judicial progress of the past several years would indicate.
I'll admit, though, I approach this subject from a very distinct point of view — I think of marriage as little more than a ceremonial custom, and in that, I wonder why this is such an important issue, for either side.
I found it interesting, though, that the day after the New York State Senate voted down a same-sex marriage bill, none of the Senators who voted against the bill were willing to go on record with comments about their decision.
I'll admit, though, I approach this subject from a very distinct point of view — I think of marriage as little more than a ceremonial custom, and in that, I wonder why this is such an important issue, for either side.
I found it interesting, though, that the day after the New York State Senate voted down a same-sex marriage bill, none of the Senators who voted against the bill were willing to go on record with comments about their decision.
