davidthedesigner

i love the sound of breaking glass

I have a certain fascination with 'brown box' packaging. That is the cardboard boxes that are used to transport goods around the world, but which are usually discarded before those goods are put on sale in a retail store. Unless, of course, you're buying something which might be 'flat-packed' (from IKEA, for instance), where what you receive or take away with you comes straight off the warehouse shelf. I'm fascinated because these boxes have to be highly functional, as do the graphics that are applied to them. Perhaps I'll write more about this one day. But in the meantime I can't help wondering about a couple of boxes that I've had stored for a long time. They contain glass lampshades that I've never got round to putting up. The boxes have text in several languages advising me which way up to store them, and this graphic which reminds me that the contents are made of glass and are breakable:

 

Does its job well, doesn't it? Except, though, that if I did drop a wine glass on the floor the one part that is never going to break is the stem.

he who protesteth

I've really not been in the mood for blogging this past week or so. Let me explain - and in doing so I'm going to assume that many of you are reading this from outside the UK.

Two days ago the government of this country cut £81bn from the public spending budget. This is how yesterday's leader comment in The Guardian summed it up: "Yesterday was the work of a gambler. A chancellor cannot take £81bn out of the economy, as Mr Osborne did yesterday, without the country hurting from it. This will be a different country from now on."

We've known since May of this year that these cuts were coming. Ever since the day that we - by which I mean this country as a whole - didn't vote this current government into power (for the government is a coalition of two 'minority' political parties). What we didn't know was exactly how much money was going to be withdrawn from the economy. Or from where that money was going to be taken. But we all knew, I think, that the public sector was in line for a big hit. And thus it has proved to be.

It troubles me. It really does. Which is why I've not posted anything here for a few days. Because one of my unwritten blog rules is that I should always strive to be upbeat. But that can be difficult when things are weighing on one's mind.

Now I don't want you to jump to conclusions here. I'm not a political person. And I'm not saying any of this because I have an axe to grind. But I do have a viewpoint, and I respect that you might not agree with me. If that's the case log on to somebody else and come back next week - you'll still be just as welcome.

So, the public sector. Now I've spent nearly the whole of my career working for public-sector clients. And in all those years I've never met anyone I've worked with or for who wasn't scrupulously honest and upstanding, and hard working to boot. Yes, I've come across some that I didn't agree with. And some that I didn't get on with. But none who weren't carrying out their jobs without the very best and honourable of intentions. Good people who have always striven to make the country that we live in a better place to be.

And now this week the public sector is being presented to us as the villains of the peace. The sole reason for our alarming fiscal deficit. But it's simply not true. It's the £850bn that it cost to rescue the UK banking system that has led us to where we are. Not, for instance, the £445 million that it's cost the run Arts Council England this past year. Yes, £445 million is a lot of money. But by my reckoning (and, OK, maths isn't my strongest subject) that's just 0.05% of what it's cost to keep the banks on the high street.

But we're told that we're all in this together, and that we each have to shoulder our own share of the burden. Maybe we will, or maybe we won't. But The Guardian is right when it says "This will be a different country from now on."

And, finally, if it ever comes down to taking to the streets and protesting, here's a brilliant reminder that it can pay enormous dividends to have a great graphic designer on board:

By David Gentleman for the Stop the War Coalition.

they're going fast...

Philip Davies, Self-Portrait, 2010

...you'd better hurry up if you want one of them.

a rare chance to buy unique work, much of which will be highly collectable

Sometimes rules are made to be broken, right?

Now I don't very often mention my own work on this blog, because that's one of my unwritten rules - because if you really want to be reading the thoughts of the 'designer as salesman' there are far better places that you could bookmark. But just sometimes something comes along which is just too good to keep to myself. And I've just had a small involvement in a really exciting project which allows me to introduce you to Maggi:

Maggi Hambling: Self-Portrait smoking a Coctail Sobranie

She's just one of 50 artists and writers who have contributed work for the Big Draw Self-Portrait Drawing Show, which is aimed at raising funds for the Campaign for Drawing. And, being designers (or being interested in design), we all know how important drawing is, don't we? As my hero David Hockney says, "Drawing is a vital part of every creative process. It should be part of a visual education, in the same way that doing press-ups is part of an athlete's training." So here's your chance to buy an original and highly-collectable work of art and help the Campaign for Drawing at the same time: for 50% of the purchase price from each sale goes to the campaign (with the other half going to the artist).

Here are some of my other favourites:

Steven Appleby: Self-Portrait Burning

Nick Cudworth: Painting Myself into a Corner

 

James Lloyd: Moustache

The Big Draw Self-Portrait Drawing Show kicks off this coming Saturday at the Chapel Row Gallery in Bath. But if you can't wait until then, or you can't make it down to Bath, you can buy your favourite (or favourites) right now from the Big Draw Self-Portrait Drawing Shop.

And if all this seems vaguely familiar to you, then it might be that you've already read about it in The Observer.

this made me smile #137

Commuting in and around central London is a slap around the face at the best of times.

The sole aim of 'wearethepedestrians' is to inject a voice into the Londoner's otherwise soulless commute. A message that hasn’t got an ulterior motive, just a simple ‘pick me up’ while you wait.

Brilliant.

(via my buddies Mark and Tom over at UK Street Art)

this made me smile #136

I had an email come in this morning concerning a little project that I'm involved with (which I'll tell you all about in the next day or so). It involves Philip Pullman: he'd been asked if he could draw a self-portrait, but was struggling. Here's his final reply:

"I did have one last go with a very small mirror, which gave me a patchwork view of my face, so I was going to call it 'Self-portrait in a very small mirror', but my wife pointed out that the angle from which I'd drawn my nose and mouth made me look like a pug. Or it might have a been a pig, I can't quite remember. Anyway, it was distinctly less lovely than I feel from within, so at that point I finally did give up."

day 7: where's marcus got to?

Not very far, actually. Because it's all over - at least for the time being. He's got compression syndrome in his left ankle, apparently, and isn't allowed to walk again for at least four weeks.

Marcus - a few words of advice, if I may: before you start off again there are two Ps that are well worth considering. The first is Preparation: if you'd practised enough beforehand you'd have realised that first pair of glasses would be too heavy to wear day in and day out. The second is Pacing: 40km was not a sensible distance for your first day.

Not that I'm trying to discourage you. But just bear in mind that old climbing adage: the challenge is to you, not to the mountain.

don't you just hate it when...

You're checking out a website, trying to get to know what's on offer, you click on a text link...

...and next thing you know you're downloading a bloody PDF file.

day 6: where's marcus got to?

Back to where he started: Munich. And seeing the doctor. Is this the end of it?

day 5: where's marcus got to?

Oh dear. Now he's feeling sorry for himself. And forgetting to tell us where he is.