Here are three of his more than 2500, featured on a set of Swedish stamps.
Word to you, but does it float. Word to you.
You shouldn't follow me on Twitter. I rarely post an update and often when I do it is hopelessly cryptic and pointless.
If you follow me on Twitter, my avatar will be like the smug mouth of a fish, surfacing almost imperceptibly in your Twitter stream and then quickly resubmerging.
I lose Twitter followers constantly because I fail to reply to their perfectly well-meaning @messages. Like rude wallpaper.
You definitely shouldn't follow me on twitter here.
Matt Webb's presentation at this year's Reboot conference is one of the better things I've read on a design website in a long while. It's about the power of your time and the importance of choosing what to spend it on. It's about design. I'm going to just quote it at length below and recommend again that you go read it.
This is Congressman Fulton, in 1959, and so this is two years before even Kennedy makes his speech -- his speech in 1961 -- that sets the goal of putting a man on the moon eight years later. Okay, 1959, and there's a committee in congress investigating food in space and they're interviewing a witness from the Department of Agriculture.
And Fulton is getting frustrated with their lack of vision and imagination. And he's a politician remember, not a designer, but he comes out with this just incredible statement, this incredible macroscope actually, and, well, let me read it to you.
"Possibly in space the approach to vegetables might be different." This is Fulton speaking by the way, asking a question. "Did that ever strike you--because we are thinking of three-dimensional vegetables, maybe in space, where you have a lot of sunlight, you might get a two-dimensional tomato."
Get this, listen to what he says...
"It might be one million miles long and as thin as a sheet of paper, aimed towards the sun -- a tomato."
And apparently there's just total silence. Everyone is totally stunned. And the witness just says, "It is an interesting thought," and they all move on.
Also worth mentioning is the sort of koan-like restraint aspired to by his bio, which I will now quote in full:
My subjects are chosen for what they are and how I might paint them.
Designer Rob Matthews claims that "reproducing Wikipedia in a dysfunctional physical form helps to question its use as an internet resource." To me, that doesn't quite seem to capture the tongue-in-cheek media Zen of the project. Judge for yourself:
The thing that strikes me so strangely about Tim Simmons' photographs is not their portrayal of the uncanny in natural and manufactured landscape, but rather their weird visual relationship to contemporary 3d renderings for game worlds.
It's interesting to think that Simmons, by so adeptly capturing these deeply strange moments of nature, finds the real world to be in a sort of unexpected harmony with what we incline to think of as its fantastic portrayal in games and CG.
I'm not sure what that means, exactly.
Consider the design of a package for a single piece of food. Is this practice wasteful or does this reduce waste?
Your moment of Zen for the day:
