I’ve just redesigned and relaunched the We ♥ Illustration site! The site is about two years in the making, originally the online home of the illustration courses I taught. For the past few months, the site has become a sort of curated space to show and celebrate beautiful illustration from around the world. And now that I have some time to dedicate to this curation, I figured we should have a totally custom site complete with a mark. Now it’s time to redesign my site for the gadrillionth time. So then, check out We ♥ Illustration and let me konw what you think!

This week, a new (?) idea launched in the U.S. It’s called 48 Hour Magazine. I say the U.S. because this idea was actually already done in Galway, Ireland a few weeks ago, though on a different scale. You can download their issue here.

In the U.S. version, a group of writers, art directors and designers got together and came up with a project idea: if they release a theme to the public on day one, require all submissions on day two, and send the edited contents to the publisher on day three…what happens? I like this question…the inherent experimentation in the project. Also, they’re collecting a guaranteed readership before actually committing to print, which is clever…like subscriptions but within a faster timeline and on a more relevent platform (social media, viral, etc.).

According to one article, the group is using an online, on-demand publisher of magazines called MagCloud. This service is good for students to know about or anyone thinking of printing a magazine. Like Blurb and Lulu, on-demand book publishers, Magcloud allows anyone to upload files and print a magazine as quickly as you can design one. (I wonder why Blurb/Lulu don’t have a magazine option?) In addition to the printed magazine, 48Hr will have a website and an online version as well.

So what does this all mean for publishing? For writing, for design, illustration? First, let’s look at on-demand publishing. This concept relates to the democratization of power (by which I mean capabilities) and accessibility of information, all under the umbrella of autonomy. These are big words, but basically it means that everyone is capable of publishing their own content at will, thereby breaking traditional avenues one previously had to take to spread ideas. The 48Hr project takes this idea to a new level, in my mind, because it takes advantage of the speed at which life seems to be moving through the use of social networking and an idea’s ability to go viral. (I kind of wish there was a video introducing them.) Anyway, 48Hr certainly seems to be pushing the idea of what a magazine is (like magazine meets newspaper?).

The project is also highly inclusive. Within 12 hours of the launch, 1,200 hundred humans had signed up to play, myself included. They are looking for illustrators, writers, photographers and, I think, designers. They’ve even invited anyone in the San Francisco Bay Area to drop by their headquarters to help move things along. Accessibility (of ideas, people, content) is what makes the internet an exciting tool, now translated back to the 3D world. (Of course, we have to look at who has access and who creates content, but that’s for another story.) 48Hr makes itself open to everyone throughout almost the entire publishing process. This is the exact opposite of traditional publishing, where the connection between author and publisher is many times removed through agents and rejection letters.

I’m curious about the actual publishing schedule, since Magcloud takes a few weeks to actually proof and print, but then again two weeks is hardly much time to wait for a publication. And I wonder what they are charging for each magazine. Interestingly, Magcloud is having a sale that week on all publications. And how will they select contributors? A 1,200 page magazine would be a little hefty.

Check out the creators of this thing, none of whom I actually know, but who I am enjoying following via stalker-esque social media:

• Heather Champ
• Dylan Fareed
• Matthew Honan
• Alexis Madrigal
• Derek Powazek
• Sarah Rich

I’ve signed up to receive the one-word theme on May 7. I might even have time to participate. In the meantime, check out the new project and let me know what you think.

The Essay as Artist Book

A late post today, but I wanted to share an update on my manuscript project. Here are a few spreads from the second chapter, which will be released as an artist book in the next few weeks, after cleaning up some finishing touches.

Any feedback is totally welcome. Otherwise, see you again tomorrow in virtual-land.

The Philagraphika Print Show is coming to a close this Sunday in Philadelphia and I wish I could check it out in person. The print collaborative (as they were originally called) was established in 2000 and they have a comprehensive website for the desert-stranded.

Paul Morrison’s 40-foot wall exterior, made using acrylic paints and found images.

One thing I really like about the show is the diversity of work shown. Artists of all ages from almost 20 countries, including individuals and collectives, are exhibiting under the banner of contemporary printmaking. Five years in the making, this year’s show is broken down into three categories (Graphic Unconscious, Out of Print and Independent Projects) and is shown in more than 80 venues across the city.

Lisa Anne Auerbach’s Tract House, which reimagines religious tracts in new contexts.

The festival happily claims that the printed image lies at the heart of contemporary art. As such, the massive exhibition (experience, really) offers inspiration to designers and illustrators (are they really different from artists?). The images above are some of my favorites from the collection, because they all sort of reinvent old ideas. Etchings appear in large scale with bold marks, scientific illustrations overwhelm a room and found images are combined in new ways.

Current artist book project called using the form of the volvelle to outline a history.

The reinvention of old forms seems like an inexhaustable approach to making things, because objects have histories, both personal and cultural. And appropriating the concepts embedded in older forms (and histories) is a means of creating autonomy in a human. To this end, I should show you a project I’m in the middle of developing, which uses this method of appropriation (fancy word for stealing). It’s the volvelle (paper wheel) above.

Anyway, if you’re in Philadelphia or nearby, I recommend checking out the show. If not, definitely see what they are up to, virtually-speaking.

My Polaroid Camera arrived! It’s wonderfully enormous, measuring a whopping 6 x 4.5 x 2.5 inches, as compared with my 2.5 x 3.5 x .5″ digital camera. As this is my first Polaroid, I’m still figuring out what to take pictures of and how, but the colors are really beautiful.

My first photo of flowers on my back patio. Lesson: no close-ups.

Having worked on the computer for a number of years, editing photographs entirely digitally, often never printing, it’s absolutely shocking to not only see a photograph emerge from a piece of machinery, but then to hold the photo in your hands. It’s reminded me about all of the photographs that have become so important to me throughout life from my childhood…and how I need to have physical photos from now, for later.

A bottle brush tree on my walk to the studio. Native to Australia…what the hell is it doing in Tucson?

Isn’t the coloring beautiful? It has this offline, no-pixel, non-edited feel (somewhat lost to us, of course, via this blog post). But there’s this almost dull, non-spectacular-ness (I’m making up words) that is really appealing perhaps because of all of the sensationalism penetrating our visual culture. These are refreshingly subtle.

From inside my studio at dusk…the raw illustrations laid out for an upcoming artist book.

Ok, so I love the camera. But I don’t love the price. The sheets of film end up costing over $3/each ($22 for a pack of 10, plus $11 shipping). And now the company is out of stock of this particular film (600). It also looks like there are cameras available online (new even!) for $40 (mine was $180).

So, I’m totally happy that I have in my possession this image-producing object…but is it worth it? And when will there be more film? Nonetheless, the project shall continue! Pictures of nothing might be a theme…