Click on the image below to view a Steller Story featuring re-colorized renditions of 9 Pro Football Hall of Famers and 1 Heisman Trophy Winner. Can you name them?
(Poster by PaC – Fall, 2016)
New to me are these regional spins on the iconic I HEART NY logo. I saw them for the first time just recently, alongside even more takes in which the red image between the I and NY represented other aspects of the Empire State.
Though they obviously don’t use the words BUFFALO
to my mind these two renditions can’t help but explicitly represent those cities, and as such, they had me dreaming of an “explicitly” Albany version that would feature the profile of the Capital City’s most iconic building, The Egg.
In all that I-Hearting I came across this fabulous story of the original logo, the remarkable designer who created it, and the interesting life that both man and art have led. Definitely worth a read and/or listen, via the podcast 99% Invisible.
A simple good wish and an even simpler pencil drawing of a globe-spanning dinner table (what?!?), were the ingredients in my first ever Christmas Card, created in 2002.
The inside of my car is getting wet,
So I open an umbrella inside it,
I discover that it isn’t a great fit,
A convertible might be a better bet.
It could be the space at the back of a car
It could be the spine of a tree,
It could contain a clog of elephant snot
or treasure lost under the sea.
Which proves that descriptions sometimes
Are all we have to not be sunk
Because on highways, in forests, in jungles, ‘neath oceans
A trunk’s not a trunk’s not a trunk.
My latest collaboration with the acclaimed graphic arts team at DeLeo Design is this newly imagined logo for one of our family’s favorite gathering spots, Angelina’s Kitchen.
The color scheme spoofery is an homage chosen to salute the sheer volume of visitors whose tummies and spirits Angelina’s has pleased over the years, an innumerable group said to be rivaled in size only by the crowds at that place Ol’ Man Kroc dreamed up. The name of it escapes me.
Thanks to everyone at Angelina’s for all the good times, and to Gina DeLeo-Kennedy for the typically outstanding design work — transforming my cocktail-napkin sketch into a technicolor dream coat.
On July 3
We celebrate C,
Among the letters
None is better.
There are dentists everywhere
But not the kind I’d like to be,
That’s the kind who earns a living
Mending broken zipper teeth.
‘Cause as far as I can tell
Right now there’s no doc you can see
Who can take a fly or jacket that
Won’t move and set it free.
So the Earth’s first zipper dentist
Is what I would like it to be:
The foremost expert on the planet’s
Mechanical metal teeth.
My fuzzy gloves that are fingerless
Send me palms over knuckles with digital bliss
On the winter days I’m earwax picking,
Scratching backs, guitar licking,
Pinching jacks, popping pimples,
Cleaning braces, poking dimples,
Tying laces, tickling bellies,
Needle threading, tasting jellies,
Rabbit foot petting, booger flicking,
Yo-yo twirling, paper football kicking,
Portraying a Shadow-Squirrel, snatching a donut hole,
Trying to lap up the last of the cookie dough trails from Mom’s baking bowl.
But when it’s really cold outside and time to shovel snow,
Mittens that cover my fingers are what I wish I had in tow.
“What’s it look like, Dad?”
“Well, that all depends…
On the side you decide
To make the end.”
“So see what you see
When you turn things around…
There’s no telling what’s
Waiting to be found.”
In honor of consecutive stellar performances by Notre Dame to open the 2014 season, we’re dipping back into the archives to share the drawing below. It was done back when I was merely a Tweedlet in Mrs. Davis’s 6th grade art class, and only years later, autographed by the subject, Jerome Bettis. Long before he was nicknamed “The Bus” during his NFL career, Bettis was a bulldozing fullback in South Bend — though even his physical style might have met its match in the Irish defense on display the last two weeks. Sure, the now departed Bob Diaco may have resembled Don Draper, but so far his defenses were mere impostors compared with Brian Van Gorder’s Van Goghs. The first year Irish Defensive Coordinator has a name like a Dutch Master but through two games his group is pure Cohiba.
Wipe up the crumbs,
Brush them away,
But once they’re gone, Mom,
Know our patrons won’t stay.
They come for the mess,
With their long walks they pay,
Knowing the good stuff’s
Here all night and all day.
Mom, you want a clean floor,
You beg and you pray,
But a clean floor will shut down
From behind our house
a Bullfrog Chorale
serenaded us every night,
It started at eight
and stopped promptly at twelve
going off like the switch of a light.
While they bellowed and croaked
the frogs’ music we soaked
up in all of its ribbity splendor,
Thinking ‘This could be worse,
they could go on all night,
or their singing could sound like a blender.’
A long lost pal
of Crazy Horse
was far less well known
Who napped most hours
of the day,
to munch hay.
When others asked,
“What is it, huh?
why are you so, Lazy?”
“’Cause this way I’m dependable,
which I reckon
sure beats Crazy.’”