Scratched IBD Cover

I have heard that a person that is considered a genius is one step away from being off their rocker. Some time ago Paul and I wrote a book titled Interpretation By Design, along with our mysterious and reclusive third author Lisa Brochu. It is not often that one of the co-authors of a book happens to be the art director for the association publishing the book. It wasn’t only Paul’s responsibility to remove all of the y’alls and fixin’ tos from my writing (not that I have an accent); he was responsible for the layout, overall design, and cover for the book.

For some time I have made fun of one of the book covers that Paul designed and submitted to Lisa and me for review and comments. Needless to say, it wasn’t accepted. To this day, Paul claims that we should have approved it (because of the creative genius behind it) and that our oversight is gross negligence. I claim that for people to buy a book they must pick it up and look at it and if their eyes are bleeding, that won’t happen. Lisa and I simply wanted something that didn’t look like gummy bears had melted on the cover of an excellent book or a manual to hosting baby showers. Oh yeah, Lisa is also Paul’s supervisor.

I need your help today. Let me know what you think of the cover in the comments section. There are two versions above (one I call melted gummy bears and the one I call Design Your Baby Shower). You are more than welcome to review both.

I do have to give Paul some credit. There is a clever element, I just wonder if anyone can figure it out. Paul, you can’t play. After some comments have been posted, if no one picks up on the one possibly redeeming element to the design, I will follow up with further discussion in the comment section. We may even let Paul defend his decisions and explain what pushed him off the rocker.

Got the fearin’, power steerin’ — Thoughts from Panama

The second-best part of my job as the art director for the National Association for Interpretation is having the opportunity to connect with interpretive professionals at conferences and workshops. (The first-best part of my job is Coffee Tuesday.) I’ve just returned from NAI’s International Conference in Panama, where I was extremely fortunate to spend a few days in an amazing environment with talented, interesting people from around the world—a welcome break from emailing with Shea all day.

As with anywhere I go, I had my camera at the ready.

I took this photo because I like capybaras. They remind me of the Rodents of Unusual Size in the movie The Princess Bride. However, much of the discussion about this sign has focused on the unusual letter spacing in the word ANIMALS. One theory is that the person designing the sign inadvertently wrote the Spanish ANIMALES and then didn’t close the space (or only closed it halfway) after correcting the mistake. My theory is that the designer incorrectly pluralized ANIMALS with an apostrophe, then read IBD’s Grammar Pet Peeves and yellowed-out the mistake.

These are both stupid theories.

Notice the nuanced communication in this sign. The iguanas appear to be smiling. This is because it makes them happy when people slow down instead of running them over.

I posted this on my personal Facebook page, and Friend of IBD Amy Ford commented, “So, does this mean to watch out for big AND little iguanas? Mom iguanas and their babies? I’m confused.” Then, about three hours later, she commented again, “I’m sure you put this up there for us to comment that they used some stock clip art, as well…didn’t even bother to flip them…just changed the size.”

Clearly, Amy is a tormented soul and gave this sign way too much thought—which, of course, we here at IBD love.

I thought at first that the bird in this tour operator’s logo was a rip-off of the Pittsburgh Pirates’ mascot, the Pittsburgh Parrot. But then I realized that there are only about 50 people in the world who have actually been to a Pirates game and seen the mascot, so that was unlikely.

The typeface in the logo is called Lithos, also known as the Jurassic Park font.

This was on my bathroom mirror. I like the interpretive message, “We are invading their territory. Please don’t destroy them.” I also like to think that as soon as this Photoshop collage was completed, the lizard ate that ladybug.

The conference included a visit to the future site of the BioMuseo, an amazing and elaborate facility designed by internationally renowned architect Frank Gehry, who was once called a “one-trick pony” by noted architectural critic and bow-tie aficionado Shea Lewis.

This was in front of a boat dock near the Panama Canal. It supports my theory that nothing says “Important, Authoritative Message” like a big Mickey Mouse hand.

I attended an off-site session to the indigenous Emberá village on the Chagres River. While everyone else was learning from and interacting with the extremely gracious and welcoming community members, I was taking photos of signs. It’s a sickness.

When I saw this sign, found at the indigenous community of Salt Creek, I was happy for the warning and turned to walk the other way. Of course, I was horrified when our guide and the rest of the group started walking down the trail toward the caimans—even more so when our guide started throwing sticks into the water to attract the caimans’ attention. I tried to explain that caimans are a lot like crocodiles, and everyone told me to shut up.

He went thataway.

Finally, Panama is a rich and rewarding visual experience, and to experience it at its fullest, you must sit across from Jeff Miller at the hotel breakfast buffet. This is some of the most effective camouflage I’ve ever seen.