A Photo Editor leads this new entry about the relationship between type and images on opening spreads with this one from the November issue of Runner’s World. Nice to see this one get some attention, because I consciously thought a lot about this particular topic as I worked on it. (Fun Fact: I placed the word Crossroads with both underline and overline above his head as a reference to a halo, since Hall is so religious that he now uses God as his coach. That inspired the underline and overline on the facing page, and throughout the feature.)
My art director Taylor freaked me out by showing up outside my office door this morning dressed just like me. She nailed the wardrobe. And the scale of the head is dead-on.
We went to Paris this month for the first time ever, and fell for it hard just like everybody else does. Here are some of the things I Instagrammed:
A statue across the street from the Eiffel Tower:
Gargoyles of the Notre Dame Cathedral:
Invader street art:
A close-up of a Roy Lichtenstein original painting in the retrospective at the Marais:
That’s the front side to the card I designed for members of the official Big 3 Fan Club. The Big 3, of course, are the stars of the cult comedy classic Windy City Heat –
– and the Big 3 Podcast.
I’m a huge fan of both. And when Vice magazine founder Gavin McInnes — a fellow fan club member and a guy whose work I’m also a big fan of — requested I design membership cards for our secret society, I worked late nights for three nights straight to get them done. Here’s the back of the card:
And here’s a stack of 1,000 of them, fresh out of the printer in Portland, OR:
A couple weeks ago Gavin did a Street Carnage post on Scary Perry’s new characters, and I provided all the illustrations:
(I realize most people reading this will have no idea what any of this stuff is, but I’m too proud not to share it here.)
Back in January, editor Tish Hamilton told the Runner’s World art and photo department about the first-person story she’d be writing about those of us who will never become elite athletes — no matter how much we sacrifice, or how hard we train.
(A few months earlier she’d spoken on a panel with a man introduced to the crowd of runners as the Boston Streaker, due to all the Boston Marathons he’d run. Only 10 percent of all marathon finishers are fast enough to even qualify for Boston, which is what makes running Boston such an achievement. This particular runner has always made it in with ease, which has not been the case for Tish, who has also run Boston multiple times. Because she’s always just squeaked in, she introduced herself to the crowd as the Boston Squeaker.)
She told us more about all of her hard work and determination, which yields a performance that amounts to little more than mediocrity when compared to that of an individual who works just as hard, but who has a genetic predisposition to excel in athletics — like the Streaker.
Tish described her feature as “the life of a squeaker” — a phrase that immediately conjured up an image in my mind. I quickly sketched this drawing of a little mouse poking her head out of a giant running shoe, and hastily wrote above her the phrase that Tish had used, leaving out the “u” in squeaker in my rush:
Two months later, we published the feature in the May issue of Runner’s World. Here’s the opener, photographed by Grant Cornett: