A wonderful example of taking cues from the environment to tell a story. Seeing what others may miss and expressing it in a new way. We tell our stories every day and leave them open to interpretation. I’m choosing to see this one as inspirational. Don’t give up!

Chelsea, Manhattan.

A small worn sticker found stuck to a railing on the west side. It’s almost invisible with the silver metallic base on the metal railing. The blend kind of echoes the all lowercase sans serif lettering and rounded corners. It is unimposing in its presentation and quietly powerful in its message.

Midtown, Manhattan.

Here’s a piece I’ve been trying to capture for a while, but it’s been obscured. They finally moved all the construction materials and it was revealed in the spring sun. Striking colors with the gradient and dots adding detail and personality. Plus the highlights adding shine make it a top notch piece of work.

Midtown, Manhattan.

Found this beautiful old paste up from Dylan Egon that strikes so many chords with me. Which chords? It’s black and white with simple, clean lines. It’s full of small symbolic details that many will not understand. It’s political and cultural. It’s provocative, but the edge is offset by her calm expression. The Latin on the gun seems to have gotten overlapped when the sheet was applied, but it reads, “silentium est aureum” or “silence is golden”. This is a piece I wish I had drawn and now, I wish was on my wall.

Based on the handwritten graffiti, it also strikes a reaction in others as well.

Midtown, Manhattan.

As any self respecting cigar or pipe smoker knows, the best way to light up is by using a wooden match. As such, I’ve got a boxes of wooden matches stashed all over the house, garage, pockets and car. It is one of those items that you never really think about too hard though. There’s no real reason to think about them beyond “does it work as advertised?” — in this case, does it light? Or did it break?

Recently, though, I picked up a box at the supermarket and noticed they had changed vendors. No longer was…whatever brand they previously sold. Now they upgraded to offer Diamond matches. It’s not an item that I would even notice usually, but as a designer I was immediately struck by the packaging. I have some vague memory of the brand, but it seems as though they’ve gone through a redesign. And I love it. It’s clean with a touch of vintage and really stands out on a shelf.

Digging a little deeper, it seems like the brand has be tossed around by various holding companies and private equity firms which makes it seem a bit less glamorous than America’s leading producer of matches.

But those graphics! The design! The style! What’s a poor designer to do, but start drawing?

Here’s a couple of versions of the single and crossed match illustrations and because it’s one of my favorite techniques, there’s also animated versions. Dropping a <style> tag inside the SVG with @keyframe animations is a great way to sneak an animation past a content management system. Just be sure you nest the animation inside a prefers-reduced-motion: no-preference media query.

The animation itself is just a combination of scale, translate and rotate transformations. The one nice one is the ability to flip the flame by using a negative value on the X axis of a scale transformation.

transform: scaleX(-1);

I did consider doing a more elaborate animation, but…discretion is the better part of valor as they say. It quickly became clear that going down that path was leading further and further away from the inspiration point. Clean, crisp and iconic, thank you very much.

Tangentially, I do like the concept of a matched pair, burning together. Makes me think of my wife.

Need a light? You can download them here.

And the dark humor that sustains us.

Back in 2016, a video game came out that was somewhat prescient — Tom Clancy’s The Division. Maybe prescience is easy when the humanity is so predictably set on self-destruction, glorifies ignorance and revels in ineptitude. Sorry, that’s a bit harsh, I know.

It’s a great game and my wife and I pre-ordered it mostly due to it being based in NYC. A triple A game with highly detailed, open world maps of Manhattan? And a Tom Clancy based story? Yes, please.

And it’s a great game! We had a ton of fun running around all the neighborhoods we know and love. My wife would join friends online and point out our apartment or my office. We note differences between fiction and reality as we worked through missions.

And that’s where this little guy comes in. I think it was in the Brooklyn section of the game and in an alley, it was a large graffiti on the wall. This was also when I was drawing the symbols from Destiny ultimately leading to the Symbology project. Naturally, I was immediately drawn to this cool illustration, a symbol of sorts, a smiling wink and a nod, a thumb in the eye of authority in the face of disaster.

Flash forward to 2020 and there’s an actual global pandemic. And there are refrigerator trucks on the streets of Manhattan trying to hold all the dead bodies. Sorry, that’s a bit harsh, I know.

As it wasn’t part of the Symbology project, this illustration never had a home. Now it does. If you need a symbol for a bit of “screw you,” please take it. We need more signs. We need more humor. We need more ways to laugh at our despair.

You can download a version in JPG and SVG format here.

Wandering around some of the little towns outside of New York City and we found this wonderful piece of public sculpture — a giant head laying on it’s side on a massive marble stone. It’s the first of an edition of six cast from a 38 ton marble sculpture from artist Henry Schiowitz. The name of the series is Homage to the Masters.

It’s truly impressive in three ways. First, the concept. It’s an idea I’ve always loved — the mystery of a forgotten past, a broken piece of an epic tale fallen and discarded just waiting for discovery. It triggers all the fantasy and science fiction stories I’ve read. It echoes the pyramids of Egypt and Guatemala and those past civilizations. It’s the concept of something bigger than ourselves reinforcing our short lives and the fallacy of ego against time. I want one in my yard. I need one in my yard half buried looking out at the forest.

Secondly, the scale. The bronze weighs over 2,100 pounds and the marble base weighs 14 tons. It’s just…giant. You can almost feel the weight. There is also a delicacy to the sculpture as all that bronze is balanced on the stone at only three points.

The third impressive feature (or perhaps mystery), is the location. It’s perched just off the sidewalk next to a residential house and in front of a parking lot. It’s claustrophobic for something so massive. Something so big needs more space to breathe. Perhaps the location choice was intentional — to put it somewhere unexpected, as if the town grew up around the ancient head to imbue it with a deeper sense of time and history. To magnify this odd location choice, it’s directly across the street from an small public park (and parking lot). One would think a park would be the natural choice for a public sculpture, but no, it sits…amidst the modern world somewhat hidden and diminished from it’s past glory.

Sparkill, New York.

It’s always nice to find street art in a neighborhood filled with high end art galleries. A good sized stencil piece tucked inside a loading dock reminiscent in subject matter of that other famous, shall not be identified street artist. Plus, the bonus of people being moved enough by it to contribute their own messages.

Chelsea, Manhattan.

An older photo I found in the archives that never got posted. It looks to be a commission from TotemGraffx for a cannabis shop next door. I recall it being a bit hidden with an overpass (maybe the High Line?) to the left. The whole black background helps to keep it a little unnoticed while still making all the gorgeous foreground colors stand out. Also an interesting contradiction between the loose feather painting (almost brush like) and the precision line work in the lettering below.

Midtown, Manhattan.

I feel like I know this dog. He’s patient. She’s kind. The illustration is simple and emotive. The thick white border is a sign of an experienced hand. It’s not easy to make minimal be immediately recognizable.

Midtown, Manhattan.