typography of imaginary worth ✦ editorial design in finance magazines

This past weekend I sent an e-mail to a guy on craigslist, he was giving away a bunch of issues of Conde Nast Portfolio. We met in the parking lot at a decrepit K-mart, a company found guilty in 2002 of using media to mislead shareholders.

The desperate, decaying retail setting, the bored kids in the car next to me waiting for their dealer, the shamefully meta bankruptcy of the very magazine that catered to pre-crisis nouveau riche. I guess my coping mechanism during these times has been to glamorize the fallout. Glamorizing reality must be slightly better than ignoring it altogether, yes? Anyway, I love financial magazines! Nowhere else in publishing is the gap between art and politics so completely disregarded.

The financial industry itself is comprised of nothing more than pages, screens, numbers and letters. Editorial design is present in banking everywhere from a teller window, to CNBC, to the Wall Street Journal. It may not be the driving force behind the market, but it does form a body for it to inhabit.

So please enjoy these standout pages, they ooze control, emptiness, betrayal, order attempting to appear as though it isn’t falling into chaos. I also hope you enjoy my haphazard page tearing and lack of bleed-through correction. I just thought it looked nice.

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The post typography of imaginary worth ✦ editorial design in finance magazines appeared first on touch + sight.

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3. LINK ↔ THINK 【vol. I】

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art + design, books + magazines, advertising, editorial design, magazines, photography, politics, sarasota, typeface, typography, wired

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Independent Creativity ✦ Dharmic Necessity

It’s July. Oh my. Six months into 2013 already. Cycles of time are never fun to acknowledge, but for what feels like the first time ever, I’m content with it’s passage. I’ve accomplished a great deal in six short months. It makes me excited to imagine what kind of magic I can create in the remaining ones! Will it include more blog posts? Ha! I can only pray that inspiration stays near me. I’ve made good on a lot of the resolutions I posted some time ago!

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I have trailed off from my frequent posts in an effort to “put myself out there” — u no, IRL — talking to random folks around town, auditioning for local hipster films, attending awkward bar shows to induce camaraderie, showing artwork at assorted galleries, etc. I’m quite happy being somewhat of a loner, but at times you must act to ensure that you’re not doing so out of social disability. Um, I think I’m fine. However…

Stepping out into the community to mingle has been nice, it has resulted in a few very sweet new friends, and rekindled relationships with some old ones! But for the most part, and I truly wish it was the opposite, people are… mean! This sounds very pessimistic. I don’t want to believe that the behavior I’ve witnessed is due to real unfriendliness. I think we all want to get along, but something keeps us from opening up sincerely. I’ve observed that almost all artistically-driven young people suffer from hysteric anxieties over the unwelcoming near future. There is a lingering myth that only a select few chosen ones ascend to the ranks of respected (well compensated, culturally venerated) creative authorities. The ones left behind will have nothing but crushed dreams and ever-inflating debt.

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To achieve, one must align oneself only with those who have access to that realm, through visible “talent” or privileged birth — and trust me, in Sarasota, there is an embarrassing excess of young artists with privilege. The unlucky ones: the shy, the poor, the awkward, the feral; we’re on our own! It just seems ironic that despite our generation’s overwhelmingly common subscription to belief in esoteric cocktails of libertarianism and socialism and new-age religion, we continue to treat those less pampered than ourselves with such disregard. Even worse, we treat those consciously attempting to pass through thresholds into different strata of society as desperate, annoying try-hards. Let’s stop that shit. It’s quite unchristlike.

Again I am retreating back into solitude, save for the few pure souls whose company I enjoy. No more twisting my words to appease the dead fish bobbing at the surface. Collaborating is a great catalyst for growth when one is lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time, but lately I find art school dropout divas with substanceless opinions and daddy’s credit card to be too much to handle. I’m looking forward to some independent creativity, projects which don’t hinge on others’ ego and money, but on dharmic necessity.

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