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January 26th was a Thursday

Advanced exasperated sigh maneuvers: When things get really hairy, you can deploy the stretched face. 

Per Mike’s tweet, the classic “exasperated developer sigh”. I encourage you all to post your own.

January 19th was a Thursday

Open Distribution of iBooks Author Books

From the Terms and Conditions for iBooks Authors, an interesting note on open distribution of books built with the application, so long as you do not charge for them (which opens up a whole possible ecosystem of book sharing/creation/modification):

B. Distribution of your Work. As a condition of this License and provided you are in compliance with its terms, your Work may be distributed as follows:
(i) if your Work is provided for free (at no charge), you may distribute the Work by any available means;

(ii) if your Work is provided for a fee (including as part of any subscription-based product or service), you may only distribute the Work through Apple and such distribution is subject to the following limitations and conditions: (a) you will be required to enter into a separate written agreement with Apple (or an Apple affiliate or subsidiary) before any commercial distribution of your Work may take place; and (b) Apple may determine for any reason and in its sole discretion not to select your Work for distribution.

Apple will not be responsible for any costs, expenses, damages, losses (including without limitation lost business opportunities or lost profits) or other liabilities you may incur as a result of your use of this Apple Software, including without limitation the fact that your Work may not be selected for distribution by Apple.

 So basically, as long as you don’t charge, you can release your book however you want, which is partly because: if we don’t like it, we won’t distribute it for you. Github for iBooks, anyone?

January 18th was a Wednesday
But to eat at Romera New York is to be told repeatedly that you are in the presence of greatness, while the evidence of your senses tells you that you are in the presence of, at best, okayness.
— Pete Wells’ New York Times review of Romera, which sounds like a $245/person Portlandia episode.
January 12th was a Thursday
January 11th was a Wednesday

A Nice Note From Senator Gillibrand

For posterity, and the consumption of those who are interested today, a note from Senator Gillibrand explaining why—despite vocal opposition—she nevertheless supports and co-sponsors the SOPA bill:

January 11, 2012

 

 

Dear David,

 

Thank you for writing to me regarding S. 968, the PROTECT IP Act of 2011.  I understand your concerns. 

 

I am a cosponsor of this legislation because I believe that we must protect American intellectual property against foreign websites that infringe upon our rights.  By empowering the Attorney General of the United States to go after foreign infringing websites, this legislation becomes a necessary tool to ensure that U.S. companies remain competitive in the world marketplace.  I recognize that there are technical concerns with the enforcement of this bill that need to be addressed.  I am committed to working with my colleagues in the United States Senate to ensure that this legislation protects the Constitutional rights of Americans and does not stifle lawful free speech or innovation on the internet.

 

 Thank you again for writing to express your concerns, and I hope that you keep in touch with my office regarding future legislation. For more information on this and other important issues, please visit my website at http://gillibrand.senate.gov and sign up for my e-newsletter.  

 

  

  


Sincerely,

Kirsten E. Gillibrand
United States Senator

December 23rd was a Friday
Shown here: a “Secret Santa” gift I received yesterday that stunned me and all my coworkers. Said Santa apparently walked the streets of NoLiTa one evening asking people to reproduce a portrait of me onto a ping-pong ball. The seven resulting ping-portraits are shown here. Only one person here at 20x200 would know to give me speedily hand-drawn ping-pong ball effigies as a present. To that man, Matthew Tribe, I offer my sincere gratitude—and a daily challenge to the death at the ping-pong table that inspired him.

Shown here: a “Secret Santa” gift I received yesterday that stunned me and all my coworkers. Said Santa apparently walked the streets of NoLiTa one evening asking people to reproduce a portrait of me onto a ping-pong ball. The seven resulting ping-portraits are shown here. Only one person here at 20x200 would know to give me speedily hand-drawn ping-pong ball effigies as a present. To that man, Matthew Tribe, I offer my sincere gratitude—and a daily challenge to the death at the ping-pong table that inspired him.

December 20th was a Tuesday

My Favorite 20x200 Prints This Year

Jen asked us all at 20x200 to throw in our Top 10 20x200 Prints of 2011 (a list of which I think you’ll all have an opportunity to see soon). We released more prints this year than ever before, and the work—especially considering how much effort was required to release it—is beautiful. In putting together this list, I thought just a little bit about why I picked each print, and I’ll share them with you here. They’re in no particular order, except in how I remembered them.

1. Jason Polan: 50 People of New York


Jason is the quintessential 20x200 artist for me. I’ve followed this project for as long as I’ve known of him, and that we’re able to sell these originals makes me tingle inside. Megan, our production coordinator, showed me one of the people, marked “Man in Red Pants”, which spoke directly to me, but which I’ve ceded to the random tides; I’d love any one of these in my house.



2. Michael Light: Golden State Freeway/San Fernando Pass; from Los Angeles 02.12.04



I still can’t get over this guy’s last name. Our prints of this work (and its partner) are absolutely some of the most beautiful black and white work we’ve ever released. The way day and night exist at once in the photo, and the level of insanely sharp detail he’s been able to capture… I could stare at these all day—especially at larger sizes, but even at 11x14. They’re so California.



3. Jennifer Mason: Oranges



When the tech team here was finishing up our new edition page, I pulled up Jennifer’s Oranges almost every single time I had to check it. When you first install or start working with a 3D rendering system, there’s a built in prototype of a tea kettle that you can use for testing. The quality of the light in this picture, coupled with the gravy boat, always makes me think of the unreliability of photography.



4. Tom Slaughter: New York Valentine 2



So playful and so simple, but a total love song to New York at the same time. It’s like what you’d get from a city full of ambitious kindergartners. That Tom reminds me of that puts him in rare company for me.



5. Laura Bell: Sarah Waiting for the Tide

 

I had a hard time picking one of Laura’s pieces for this list. The way she composes and prints seems tailored to how we remember distant events. This reminds me of how I remember being a little kid, looking out over the sea wall at the beach in Maine near my grandmother’s house, and seeing her walk by the water in a muted green blouse.



6. Paul Fusco: FUP1968010K003 + FUP1968010K052




Amazing documentary work, and incredibly touching. I was lucky enough to be with Jen and Sara as they looked through Paul’s picks for these editions, and remembering how he talked about the process of making these photos still gives me the shivers. He couldn’t have known how much he was about to crystallize the emotions of a broken country when he talked his way onto the train that morning, but I’m glad he did, and I’m glad we had the opportunity to share these photos.



7. Craig Damrauer: The New Math of Relationships: Hindsight




How do I pick my favorite word art of the year? Mike Monteiro had some amazing stuff, and Austin’s Marriage print was wonderfully-timed and beautifully-executed. We released two prints that prominently read “FUCK” this year, so Craig faced pretty stiff competition. Having said that, I love letterpress, and I love math, and Craig really gets language and meaning in a way that is so, so funny.



8. Don Hamerman: Copper




Don told me about this work at the Affordable Art Fair last year. He was still buying the Hot Wheels on eBay, and I was sort of skeptical. Look at this print, though—it’s the kind of car I would have treated like shit as a four-year-old, and this is absolutely the peeled, leaden result—a result that ends up inadvertently reminding me of cop cars from the 70’s, sitting in some burned-out lot in the Bronx. The expression(!) on the cop’s face inside the car is one of “I can’t believe I survived that”. Love it.



9. Todd McLellan: Apart Typewriter



How did Todd make these? Jesus, I loved the OCD versions, but this is what happens when you just let it all go. It makes me think a lot more about the emotional state behind the ordered photos, and how delicate it is, and how much intense emotion and energy is locked in those rows. In a way, the exploding versions feel so relieved.



10. Jorge Colombo: West 10th Street and Broadway




I love the people in Jorge’s paintings. I love the Empire State Building. I love his devotion to amateurism and the life of the city. I could have picked any of Jorge’s prints, but this one, of two people in their darkened living room at night, light streaming in from the kitchen, as the Empire State Building lights up at dusk, is such a moment. It’s so perfectly “home”. 



11. Aaron Straup Cope: Prettymaps (Paris)




Every good top ten list goes to eleven. I’m particularly gratified to have met Aaron Straup Cope while working here; he’s got one of the sharpest nerd minds I know of, and an incredibly fine sense of color and design. If you ever get a chance to meet him and talk about how he made these maps, and why, you will be a very lucky person. This particular map, of Paris, is a great juxtaposition of an ageless city and the data that emerges from it. Once you have spent time with the print (even if you know nothing about it), you begin to intuit all the things going on inside it. That’s the point of what we do here, and what we want for our collectors. It’s why I love this print and everything else on my list. There you go.



December 15th was a Thursday

Internet Smart People Aficionados: Nobody Has Noticed This?

Andy Baio.

Kevin Slavin.


Am I crazy here? Let’s try this again, but use the conference headshots:

Andy Baio.

Kevin Slavin.


Enhance.


Enhance.

Am I right, people? Come on.

December 1st was a Thursday
This! This, people, is the point. This exercise is what I am all about right now—the connection between really spending time remembering what something looks like and then reacting to the thing something is in your memory. This is the space between the half-hour and the five-seconds, and exploring that space is the greatest obsession.
I’ll rail on about Lynda Barry to all comers—artists, writers, programmers, and business folk alike. Go read her books and see what I mean.
thenearsightedmonkey:

The Near-Sighted Monkey teaches a picture-making class once a week in Madison, Wisconsin.  All of the work is done in a standard composition notebook with white glue and paper scraps and Flair pens. Tonight the class did a barely modified exercise from a book by Ivan Brunetti called “Cartooning: Philosophy and Practice.”
THEY DUG IT!!!! WHY NOT GET IVAN BRUNETTI’S BOOK AND TRY IT???!!!
In your composition notebook, turn to a blank page and then….1. Draw a car for exactly three minutes. Keep your pen moving the whole time. The quality of the drawing doesn’t matter as much as adding all of the details of a car you can remember. (door locks! Side mirrors! Tail-pipe!) Don’t let your pen stop for the whole three minutes. Have someone time you. Now….
2. Draw the car in two minutesThen,3. One minute4. 30 seconds5. Five seconds.Etc.Ivan Brunetti says to repeat the exercise with cats, castles, telephones— (Really, any noun you can think of )—-and to really notice how when you don’t have enough time to freak out, a certain kind of spontaneous gesture appears.

This! This, people, is the point. This exercise is what I am all about right now—the connection between really spending time remembering what something looks like and then reacting to the thing something is in your memory. This is the space between the half-hour and the five-seconds, and exploring that space is the greatest obsession.

I’ll rail on about Lynda Barry to all comers—artists, writers, programmers, and business folk alike. Go read her books and see what I mean.

thenearsightedmonkey:

The Near-Sighted Monkey teaches a picture-making class once a week in Madison, Wisconsin.  All of the work is done in a standard composition notebook with white glue and paper scraps and Flair pens. Tonight the class did a barely modified exercise from a book by Ivan Brunetti called “Cartooning: Philosophy and Practice.”

THEY DUG IT!!!! WHY NOT GET IVAN BRUNETTI’S BOOK AND TRY IT???!!!

In your composition notebook, turn to a blank page and then….

1. Draw a car for exactly three minutes. Keep your pen moving the whole time. The quality of the drawing doesn’t matter as much as adding all of the details of a car you can remember. (door locks! Side mirrors! Tail-pipe!) Don’t let your pen stop for the whole three minutes. Have someone time you.
 
Now….

2. Draw the car in two minutes

Then,

3. One minute

4. 30 seconds

5. Five seconds.

Etc.

Ivan Brunetti says to repeat the exercise with cats, castles, telephones— (Really, any noun you can think of )—-and to really notice how when you don’t have enough time to freak out, a certain kind of spontaneous gesture appears.