Of the more notable upgrades, I’ve added comments. I’m sick of talking to myself over here and am passing the proverbial baton on to you, my digital friends. Let’s make some conversation. Hopefully this doesn’t end with me weeping in the corner with enough insecurity to fill a diaryland account.
Also, like a narcissist with OCD, I’ve listed the rest of the changes in an incredibly nerdy, euphemism-soaked rundown to the right (or below, depending on your browser width). Wee!
Oh! I’ve also been invited to the Carbon Ads network, so be a pal and click on that pretty ad under Features. If enough of you do it, I might be able to buy a cup of coffee.
So there you have it. Look around, kick the tires a bit. If it breaks, it’s all your fault.
]]>During the winter after that first ride, all I could think about was making it to next spring and getting back out on that rickety bike. During those bitter, snowy months, I would long for that same rush like a heroin addict craves his next fix. I wanted to know everything there was about dirt biking and motocross. It was rare to see it on television, and I didn’t even know what the internet was (not that it could help at the time, anyway). This brought me to my new love in life. The magazine. For about three years, I spent nearly every dollar I made buying every motocross magazine I could get my hands on. I would read and re-read each issue cover-to-cover. They got me amped up when I couldn’t ride, made me smart about the sport, and ignited something I can only describe as a fire in my belly. I needed to dirt bike. It was this intoxicating concoction of photographs, words, typography, and colour that brought me back to those dusty trails. It set my imagination wild with daydreams of racing around performing death-defying stunts for adoring fans and girls I had crushes on.
Later on in high school, my love for motocross would subside. My focus shifted from bikes to boards and skateboarding, wakeboarding, and snowboarding became the subjects of my obsession. I would spend hours in Chapters poring over the latest publications and buy them when I could afford it. Eventually I began noticing the design and why they were so engaging. I analyzed the articles and appreciated how every story was designed to bring the reader in, making him forget about his surroundings. Sometime near the end of high school, I realized that I wanted to design magazines.
I took Electronic Publishing in college where I learned all about the magazine industry while taking a smattering of graphic design, web design, and a hint of entrepreneurship. It was at this point I realized that the printed periodical was dying. It’s tough for magazines to make money. There’s a reason most are half full of advertisements. The publishing process is incredibly expensive; production and distribution are so expensive that typically a subscriber needs to stick around for at least 3-4 years before the publication starts to make any money off of them. Most fail, and the ones that do succeed hardly make a profit. This was unbelievably disheartening for a naive young student. I ran far far away into the welcoming arms of the Internet.
I love the internet dearly. I am still grateful to be able to create in this medium and I’ve learned a lot about designing for it in the past few years. But as I’ve written before, it’s not a magazine replacement.
Apple just released something revolutionary. The hardware itself is largely unimpressive. We’ve all seen it before. It’s a big iPod touch. That’s not the point. A lot of people seem to be hung up on this, but a few smart folks are looking past the hardware and seem to be ecstatic as I am about the potential of this new platform. For the first time since switching my interest to the web, I feel like my passion for the magazine is being rekindled. I have no idea how I can get involved, or even if this iteration is the answer, but I feel like my true calling, my true passion in life is about to find me… and that passion lies within the evolution of the electronic magazine.
It’s starting to feel like spring again.
]]>In January, I committed to write and design an article each month this year. As you may have noticed, there is no June post. The those that have being paying attention (all two of you), you know that I’ve been up to something new.
When I embarked on this project seven months ago, I had a few goals:
I have a system, been experimenting like never before, and yes, believe that regular art direction online is not only a possibility, it’s the future. With a small talented team and a clever framework, the art directed approach is feasible and has the potential to turn the online publishing industry onto its stubborn, boring skull.
In my experience, the difficult part is writing. Designing and coding take little more than a few hours but composing an article can take days or even weeks to flesh out. Instead of battling this every month, I’m changing it up and will be working with some talented people on a series of upcoming sites with a similar publishing philosophy.
Taking what I’ve learned from this project plus several hours of research and a metric shit-ton of trial and error, I’ve developed an even more punishing publishing system. It uses a lethal combination of Object Oriented CSS, a customized grid framework, and a skull-crushing Expression Engine concoction garnished with some delicious add-ons.
The first project to use the setup is the upcoming redesign of The Stray Muse. Each of the exisitng articles are undergoing a full redesign and will be posted in their individual glory. Plus, we’ve got a giant archive of content straight from the depths of Rachel’s notebook. This is the diary of a brilliant madwoman just waiting to be unleashed onto your psyche. I’m eager to present these with all of the expression they deserve.
Am I going to continue on my 12-post per year plan on this site? No. Am I going to stop entirely? No. I’m going to keep it around for when I do feel the primal urge to write, but the frequency will be pretty organic. Instead, I’m pouring effort into designing and producing more in collaboration with other writers and designers on new projects.
Sometimes a new path reveals itself and you know it’s the path you need to take. I’ve learned what I needed here… time to evolve even further.
]]>When you read an article in a magazine, you’re not only consuming the words, you are absorbing an expressive blend of text, typography, colour, and imagery. Each of these components are meticulously constructed to envelope the reader in its message and draw them into the rest of the publication.
The masterful composition of these elements in magazines has fascinated me since my teenage years poring through the crude pages of Big Brother. Its vulgar fusion of content and art is the reason I got into design in the first place.
It’s shocking that this kind of attention is still so lacking on the web. We take our text and jam it into generic templates hoping to capture the attention of a passing reader long enough to notice that Cialis banner in the sidebar. Most online publications try to cook up as many short-form articles as possible to entice readers and jack up page views. When there is a feature article, it gets shoe-horned into the same templates with no special treatment or design love. It’s like getting a three course meal where the appetizer, the entrée, and the dessert are all dry roast beef with no gravy.
What happened to the concept of drawing readers in through unique, rich experiences and well crafted content and design? In a web saturated with partial thoughts and regurgitated micro-content, a movement toward meaningful commentary and thoughtful presentation is savagely compelling.
The mindset of quantity and efficiency over quality and experience has been a priority for too long. If a printed magazine can write, edit, design, layout, and publish a series of feature articles, departments, and ads every single month, there’s no reason we can’t do that on the web. In fact, I find it absurd that we don’t already.
It made me realize how much I take the process of graphic design for granted by relying on the comfort of my computer.
It had been years since I’d taken a photograph without the crutches of endless memory, autofocus, and instant feedback. Once I began shooting with the AE-1, I was immediately forced into a fresh photographic mindset. Suddenly I had to conserve my film, take more care in composing the frame, re-examine my exposure settings, and ensure my focus was bang-on before committing that precious snap.
This created a turning point in my photography. I’m taking more care, respecting the medium, and fostering a greater understanding of the art. As I write this, I don't know if the photos will turn out. Still, I anticipate a higher good:crap ratio than I normally achieve with my digital SLR. Regardless of my results, it makes me think about the process in a startling new way.
This idea of analog vs. digital made me reconsider my design process. When I abandoned the comforts of digital photography, I learned more about the art in a single roll of film than I have in the last four years shooting on my 20D. It made me realize how much I take the process of graphic design for granted by relying on the comfort of my computer. I've never experienced handcrafting a design on a paste up using rubber cement, T-squares or X-acto knives. I've never experimented with analog techniques like screen printing or typesetting by hand. There's a whole level of craftsmanship and appreciation of our profession that I've overlooked.
This summer, I plan to change that.
Bring on the T-square and the drafting table; bring on the screen printer; bring on the film; bring on the typesetting; bring on the analog process I didn’t know I’d been missing.
]]>A well thought-out grid provides a system for placing content, exhibits professionalism, gives us as set of rules to adhere to as well as to break, and makes the design process more efficient.
CSS Frameworks like 960 Grid System have become prolific and, despite controversy, are great tools for quick and dirty layouts and live prototyping. My concern with such frameworks is the temptation to rely on the included 12 and 16 vertical column grids in production-ready designs.
There is nothing inherently wrong with those grid configurations. They are actually quite flexible and can yield great results (just look at beautiful examples on the 960.gs site). The problem is, when you use a pre-built grid template, you are not considering the content or typographic measure and end up pushing your precious text into a foundation built by someone else that is based on nothing more than browser width. That would have been like forcing Frank Lloyd Wright to live in a pre-designed cookie-cutter home from the suburbs.
When you build a custom grid based on your content’s needs, its goals and its purpose, you are no longer settling on an inconsiderate, mass-produced template. You are giving the piece life, complimenting its existence, and giving it the attention it deserves. That’s great design.
The grid system is an aid, not a guarantee. It permits a number of possible uses and each designer can look for a solution appropriate to his personal style. But one must learn how to use the grid; it is an art that requires practice.
Josef Müller-Brockman
I’m proposing a challenge. Throw out your 12 or 16 column 960 grids. Read, interpret, be enamored in the content being presented. Use the content to determine your type settings and then construct a rational grid based on those considerations. Don’t be afraid to deviate from vertical columns and experiment with new configurations despite what you know about the web. I promise that you will start thinking differently about your layouts.
I am sick of people saying that there is a lack of design innovation on the web. I hear it a lot more than you would think. The web is still young and constantly evolving. When something special does happen, it’s not always easy to pick it out and see the potential.
Jason Santa Maria and Ryan Sims are two designers that are using art direction to create a unique layout around every piece they publish. This has forced them to think about their message and choose the best way to present it rather than build a generic layout that treats all content the same. This conceptual shiſt could be revolutionary if applied to a major online publication like The New York Times.
Progression like this doesn’t come from client or feature requests, but from the desire to to experiment, explore, and to play. These sites won’t change the world, but their ideas will. Evolution will happen when other designers spot the potential, transform it, and apply it in new ways.
I’ve never taken enough time to play with my design. I’m hoping that by applying concepts like regular art direction and the exploration of other mediums to this site, something good will happen. I don’t care about the results; it’s the journey that interests me.
So, let’s play.
I help develop web interfaces for Veer and Corbis.
I also help design and build web applications with a little collective called Louder Than Ten.
Look for some interesting experiments in 2009.
When I’m not slinging code, you can find me purging tiny bits of unfiltered rhetoric via Twitter, posting photos on Flickr, and uploading the home video collection to Vimeo.
If you’re looking for the old Louder Than Ten site, don’t fret, it’s still there but it’s undergoing some major surgery to reflect the new direction.
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