Been taking a leisurely stroll through one of my favorite blogs, Present & Correct. If you decide to pay them a visit (and I think you won’t regret it if you do), you’ll find an expertly textured curation of great visuals…new, old and somewhere in between. Case in point, these handwriting analysis charts. What does your penmanship say about YOU? If you think about it, this chart is nearing obsolescence.
Oh, and don’t forget to visit their shop.
While the solutions may take on somewhat different forms, the questions of how to make a success of one’s design or invention remain the same. Mr. Murray A. Gleeson published his book of wisdom in 1970.
From the very wonderful Reanimation Library. For a bigger image, click here.
I don’t typically mind separating a few eggs the old fashioned way, but this new and improved method might come in handy if one were talking volume. I am very intrigued by the fact that the demonstration is taking place on the couch and not in the kitchen. Also note that the video has been viewed over 10 million times. Thanks to Danièle for sending my way.
Most forms of work possess a certain level of artistry. Wiring and plumbing are no exceptions. Like most of us, I have a fear of my home catching fire or of the pipes bursting. I don’t think about it all that often until I come face to face with evidence of a really bad job. Or, for that matter, a really good job. Regardless, I am fascinated by schematics, and especially so with those that either represent a system that is highly functioning or one that is on the verge of failure.
As an industrial designer, one of those skills in which one should have achieved a certain amount of fluency is the ability to create a three-dimensional object out of a series of two-dimensional shapes…and vice versa. This is something I have yet to master. So, is it any wonder that my attention is fixed on these drawings of disassembled objects? Just from looking at them, I can guess at what their final shapes are. But in order to be sure, I’d have to cut and fold. Of course, from Agence Eureka.
I was reading the actual paper version of the NYT this morning and was basically assaulted by the scent of perfume as I paged through one of the sections. Couldn’t figure out where the odor was coming from until I bent my head down to sniff an advertisement for…perfume. Blech. And then I was reminded of some razors I bought over the summer. They emitted a very pungent strawberry scent as soon as I removed them from the packaging. Again, I couldn’t initially figure out from where the aroma originated. And how had I missed the two little berries on the label? Something about this seems to have crossed a line. I’m still mulling over why it offends me. I did a little homework and found a story in the Times offering up various explanations (most of them pretty obvious, but still weird) as to why the last unscented bastion in our bathrooms has now succumbed to the forces of marketing.