This is a tessellating pattern I came up with a few weeks ago to challenge my mind and fill down time at work. I wanted to avoid making patterns that follow a square grid system. Also, I really like oceanic art (see detail below).

The summer solstice snuck up on me this year. I remember feeling just a few weeks ago that I was finally clear of the holiday hubbub--the feeling that there was some place to be or some function to attend from week to week. But the solstice was kind. With it came a rare Saturday at home, visiting dads on Sunday, eating out in celebration of another school year's close, and much sun.

That first paragraph of yours really got me thinking about this whole business of busyness. I think that adulthood really is a rush. It feels sometimes as though you have to attack it with full force or it will attack you. There's no room for stasis. Stasis = regression. But I also think that this thing called life is navigable. I think that you can slow things down just as easily as it all speeds up. The hard part about that is saying no when you really want to do and experience everything. Ironically, though, when you try to do it all, you end up doing nothing of consequence. I say all of that to acknowledge that there is virtue in living simply, cherishing family, and being selective with one's appointments.

I've been thrilled to see you showing at so many really interesting and awesome venues! I was really inspired by the 'Clipped' show you did way back in December. It made me get up and paint again. I had been exploring the relationship between fine art painting and the evolution of photography as an art form. I really could (should) write a paper about it or something because there are so many facets of that whole love-hate dance between the two mediums worth exploring. I painted a series of small works on the topic. I had the opportunity to show them at a cafe a few blocks away from our apartment as well as a few still lifes I forced myself to finish. I don't know if it's this way for you, but I find that when I start a painting--even with the best of planning--I eventually reach a point where I'm convinced that the project is just completely wrong. I end up letting it sit for a while. The unluckiest of them get gessoed over and recovered with another failure. And then when I finally force myself to finish the thing it somehow turns around and becomes a decent piece. Maybe I'm just finally over that freshman phase of not admitting when your 'art' is trash!

Work has been unusually busy but good. Working as an in-house designer is nice in some ways. The work is steady and somewhat predictable. Unfortunately, I don't have the luxury of firing my clients when they try to put their hands too deep into the project or play the art director when, really, they shouldn't (Just today someone wanted the medium-value background behind REVERSED text to be lighter!). But there are those projects that just lend themselves to really enjoyable plays on type and imagery and I wouldn't trade anything for them. I took a risk two years ago with a book cover and interior design for a science storybook. I wasn't sure if the publisher would be willing to take the risk with me since the science-minded are a typically literal-thinking folk. But they went with it! And when it came time to make it a series they were more than willing to take their hands off the reins and let me do whatever I wanted. And that second design ended up winning an award! I'm super excited about a third book in the series that I'll start working on in a few months. I'm thinking about taking it in a more arabesque direction.

I really can't wait to see photos of your studio space. Even some process video blog posts would be cool! I really enjoyed the podcast interview you and Annie participated in last year. Your switch to acrylic as opposed to oil really got me thinking about how life affects art. I think that those sorts of decisions really add value to the body of your work. I especially enjoy the botanical/beasties themes that you've been exploring. Oh, please let me know when you're looking for someone to put together a large-format retrospective book of your work!

Roussel is doing very well indeed! We've hung him in the guest bedroom/gallery space/reading room. Consequently, we painted the room a darkish grey-blue to really make the aqua and orange pop. It suits Roussel quite well.

Thanks for your update! I know that it steals precious time away from other things to sit down and write like that. I truly appreciate your sacrifice!

Cheers,

Tim

One idea is to do something with knots. I'm going to show you the drawing phases I used to create a mechanically flawless monkey fist knot. Monkey fist knots look cool.

Then I figure out how I want to make the final one look. This is the rough sketch version.

And now, for those of you who are already tired of scrolling down, a short animation depicting the final steps to completion:

I've never been one to collect little fairy figurines. I'm not even truly a fan of those resin angels that are made out to look like carefully hand-whittled dolls. And y'all can keep your phosphorescent cottages to yourselves! Blech. I like simple, mid-century modern, intelligent design when it comes to what I allow in my home. However, I will make an exception for things that I consider truly unique or clever.

So, I'm going to cast this idea to the digital air and allow people to take it and run with it if it's worth putting into production. Where are all the fantasy tongue-in-cheek home goods? Does anyone make a dragon-skin leather chair? What about a tonton-skin rug for the living room? I think that a tonton rug would look pretty swanky in the right setting. I'm pretty sure that I'd buy an L-shaped sectional upholstered in a single giant basilisk skin (mocha brown, fold-out bed in there somewhere).

Sometimes I'm struck by how we're warned or protected in areas that should be common sense. Take chain saws, for instance. We know that they're for cutting things that are very difficult to cut with a Swiss army knife or machete. But for some reason they put that little cartoon of the mutilated hand on the thing.

Though, this may have been where chain saw murders started. I bet someone who couldn't read was going through the garage one day and found the chain saw. The guy probably saw the symbol and thought to himself, "Gads! This machine must be designed to magically help people grow bigger hands! I've got to try this out!" See? He was just trying to help.

Mysterium is inspired by Victorian-era display faces and by the work of Tim Biskup. The typeface, in tandem with the final cover design, will evoke the look of very old gothic novels and the Victorian fascination with death and mourning in an Edward Gorey sort of way.

So here's the process vid! I show you the making of F, G, and H. I don't blame you if you give up after H. The video gets rather boring. BUT! I've included a special feature just for you!!! I have deftly removed all sound from the video so that you can play whatever music you like as your very own customizable play list! How about that!

Mysterium_3 from timothy french on Vimeo.

I don't really like eye wash stations at all. Period.

click here to view

There aren't many accidents in an office where everyone sits at their computers for the majority of the day and click click double-click the hours away. I'm not even sure where the closest fire extinguisher is from my desk. Still, there are some unavoidable hazards that require thoughtful attention. For instance, today was the bi-annual cleaning of the community refrigerator in the break room. The building maintenance high shaman ascends to our floor and casts out the undead carrion from the chilly depths wrought of white wire and crisper drawers. And, twice a year we are saved from the steady increase of spore-ridden filth.

For the IT guys this is a big day. Several techies enjoy watching the undertaking to determine which of the exhumed containers had most decayed. It's pretty hard to look away in spite of how awful things have become in the last six months.

Though mold is a strong contender for claiming the most lunch-bag casualties, its fuzzy greenness is bested by the bane of all brown-baggers: the office mooch. Fortunately, those of us who bring our lunch to work can invest in a few of these. They're sure to ward off those who regularly prowl the office kitchen for ill-gotten Gouda. Still, don't forget to label and date.

Lenticular printing has been around for a while. But in the last few years it has seen a revival among the cartographers at Urban Mapping. You can go here to read more about how the printing technique is used in multiplying the communicative real estate on a single piece of printed material. If you'd like to see a video of this stuff in action then click here. You can also get your hands on your very own specimen here, though only NYC and Chicago versions are available.

--Paola Antonelli, from TED talks 2008

Inlay, in my opinion, is the first blush of what art critics today call "process art." The work of selecting and manipulating materials echo in a finished piece. The interaction of the bending of the artist's intentions to the constraints of the medium and the medium's conformity to a final design, though intentionally hidden, still linger in the edges and curves of wood, shell, and bone.

Back of a truly excellent work of inlay lies a deep understanding and creativity on the artist's part. Not only are there dozens of wood varieties (each with their own resonance, timber, and 'sustain'), but even more types of shell that vary in luster, color, texture, and value. Some shells even change appearance depending on the light or the direction from which you view the material.

The remarkable thing about Stan is his encyclopedic understanding of the materials and their acoustic value. Also, his workshop (you can find photos on his website) is pretty awesome! You can even commission a custom guitar of your own through the site (link above in the first line of this entry)!

I would wish upon the good residents of our great nation's capitol a Purple Line! It would be a line to unite all lines! It would be a grand circulator that would bring people to Langley, Georgetown, and the National Arboretum. Having another point of departure from Reagan International would be pretty nifty, too!

To my friends that would visit this area any time soon, you'll see that there are a great number of places worth checking out that aren't that close to the metro. Conversely, you'll find that you really don't want to be on the metro in some places (Metro Center or Gallery Place/China Town) because of the high volume of commuters. I think that a Purple line would relieve some of the congestion in the system and make a lot of people very happy.

2) Larry Torrez, former Disney animator and illustrator extraordinaire, has most recently completed work for various US Government education and awareness projects including the US Mint kids' site and various other projects for the FDA, CDC, and American Lung Association. I had the privilege of working with Larry on projects for the National HIV/AIDS Partnership. I learned a whole lot about the importance of telling a story with everything you do because aesthetics alone doesn't impress people as much as designers assume it does. I really like how adaptable Larry's style is to the constraints of the project. His style has a friendly and familiar appeal that works well with materials geared toward just about every age level and demographic. His work never looks out-of-place.

3) Tim Biskup's portfolio really speaks for itself. His collaborative work is so interesting to me. I would have loved to do some collaborative stuff while completing my undergrad degree.

4) Vladimir Tretchikoff's life (let alone his art) was quite remarkable. I'm attracted to his art because it often combines very raw sketching and fully developed realism in the same piece. It's like getting a backstage pass into the artists' performance. Or maybe it's like seeing a Thornton Wilder production. Also, Vlad is just flat out good at what he does.

5) Elly Kalagayan (whose work is grossly unrepresented online, much to my dismay) is by far the person with the greatest influence on me as a designer. What was the most important thing you learned from him, you ask? Well, though I can't say that it was a patent lesson, I definitely learned not to give up on a design (and when to quit). I'd often have a project on my table that I'd play with; then, thinking that I was pretty much finished, I'd show it to him (now, mind you, usually at this point what I had to show was complete trash). He'd look at it with a reticent expression (though definitely thoughtful) and say, "OK, just keep going." Initially, this was pretty frustrating. I really wanted to hear, "move that there and change that color and make that larger." Eventually I'd figure it out and arrive at something worth publishing. The flip side to learning to never be satisfied with your design is knowing when to stop. The story is much the same for that lesson, too. Elly's impeccable attention to detail makes everything he works on turn to gold. He's also an excellent typographer with a knack for custom lettering and a master of bezier awesomeness.

- C. S. lewis, Mere Christianity

Applying the leaf was a dual practice in patience and not needing to breath. But most of my readers who are experts in reattaching sun-burned skin flakes to the tender shoulder with a slow-drying glue and brush-on sealer would have little trouble mastering the art.

The unframed piece is 17x30cm oil and gold leaf on board and resides upon my desk at work. Poor-quality image was produced with uncontrolled natural light and a Casio Exilim EX-Z200.

Intellectuals, the ones who bathe in public, do so in only the modest of swim wear.