Our mail courier is a tad bit unreliable. There are days when he delivers the mail before noon but you can count on those days being the ones he only carries a fistful of bills. More often than not, he’s a post-lunch type of worker and recently I’ve even wondered if he’s decided an afternoon siesta is in order before delivering my goods.
Though antiquated, and a huge drain on our wealth as a nation ($2.8 Billion losses in 2008), most everyone still likes to get snail mail from time-to-time. Even me. Especially when said letters are from clients who have paid their bill on time – a rarity, I have figured out.
Monday I ventured down our driveway like most other days to check our nearly white mailbox to grab the usual handful of direct to shredder/recycle bin and bills. As I was climbing back up, I was taken back for a moment by a single, nondescript white letter addressed to me with the return address only listed by name. The envelope was greeting card sized and was hand addressed in black ink. The piece of mail wouldn’t have stood out in any pile but almost literally jumped out of my hand once I saw the sender.
My mind raced as I walked back towards the house. (more…)
I would only actually use the word wicked if I was born and raised on the south side of Boston. And even then it’d sound much more like wick’d as in – wick’d smaht. But since I wasn’t, the title of this post is just copied and pasted from another article of a pretty wick’d sliding house in England.
England is on my list of places to visit one of these days. I’m planning my trip for the day after I receive my bailout money.
If you have $6,500 to spend this year I would highly recommend this amazing opportunity from the School of Visual Arts MFA program, Masters Workshop: Design History, Theory and Practice in Rome and Venice. The first sentence of the description should be enough enticement: “Spend two weeks studying visual communication ‚Äî especially typography ‚Äî in Venice and Rome, the birthplace of Western typographic tradition.”
