confessions from the workroom

truth, a good portion of my design hours are spent trolling the internet for visual inspiration. today's theme was mc escher, medieval churches, and vintage board games. my wanderings led me to conclude that parcheesi is *the* paramount board game for graphic designers, followed closely by chinese checkers. however, my favorite game as a child was always candyland, and if i could live in the following warm toned roygbiv paradise, i totally would.

also, because i was learning to fuse aesthetics, neurotic behavior and social justice at age 5

roommate: i eat red and brown m&ms first. what about you? i bet you eat the yellow ones.
me: well, actually, first i separate out all the m&ms out by color. then i eat from the colors that have the most m&ms in the pile, starting from the highest, until all the colors have an equal amount of m&ms in them. then i make rounds and eat one m&m from each pile in order* so that they will always have equal amounts in them, until the m&ms are gone.
roommate: wow.
me: you know what i was really into? skittles.

*this was not mentioned in conversation, but i used to also line my m&ms up according to rainbow color when i performed this last step. this process is an excellent insight into my larger way of functioning.

the weather (part 2)

it's almost october. a shock to think about. i have been out of school and living in los angeles for four months--which is just long enough for me to stop using the 'i just moved here and don't know anything' excuse. i feel as if some great epiphany should be around the corner, but none seems imminent. growing up in colorado i always associated october with the height of autumn putrefaction and flux, the treetops bursting into flames and then disappearing in a river of rot down the sewer drain. but here it feels like everyone is immersed in a sunny mausoleum whose demand on its residents never changes, because the climate never changes. it is still as hot as ever.

one certain colorado october it snowed the day before halloween. i was a witch that year. my mother made my costume out of black satin, as well as my halloween bag which always made my candy stash look deceptively small and my neighbors consequently more generous. that year, and most years from age 4-9, no inclement weather could stand in the way of me and free candy. i crunched through the snow in black pumps and no socks, slush seeping in under the arches of my feet, for 2 hours knocking on my neighbors' doors. i returned with my feet red, almost frostbitten, and, among other things, three whole hershey's bars.

say cheese

in seventh grade english we read i am the cheese, by robert cormier. my then best friend and i, in our perverse adolescent boredom, started a game in which we rewrote the lyrics of contemporary pop songs to be about cheese. examples that i recall were i want it with pate and eat me baby one more time, by the backseat toys and chutney spears, respectively. years later, i find i have not outgrown such hijinks:



i'm going to getchu getchu drunk
getchu drunk, off my brunch--
my brunch--my lovely lady lunch
-my brunch, by the black iced teas

also

this article on the history of crayola crayons is nothing short of amazing. reblogged via subtraction.com, because khoi vinh is my baby daddy.
http://www.colourlovers.com/blog/2008/04/22/all-120-crayon-names-color-codes-and-fun-facts/

these are some crayon colors on which i look back fondly, their names doubling as visual memories of a childhood spent wandering in the rocky mountains.

• mahogany
  
• burnt siena
  
• tumbleweed
  
• granny smith apple
  
• cornflower
  
• cadet blue
  
• purple mountain majesty
  
• wisteria
  
• timberwolf