Showing posts with label handwriting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label handwriting. Show all posts

21 October 2016

[font] Free Donald Trump Script Font Makes Your Computer Arrogant! Sad!

3408.
Well, since it's all Donald Trump all the time, now …

Agent Orange has this way of communicating verbally. He has this way of communicating in writing which perfectly resonates with that. His handwriting is quizzically blocky, squat, rounded, bold, as though someone who only writes when he absolutely has to does but all he likes to use are broad-point markers.

This is not the writing of a man who has any sort of internal dialogue. He doesn't have much in the way of expression, and he leaves it all there on the paper: staccato tempo, writing askew, boldface script making up in for in graphical volume and physical presence what it lacks in informative content.

Most of us can say we write more sophisticatedly than we talk. This is not a problem Donald Trump seems to wrestle with. And, if you can't get enough of the human mass of quirks that is the man who is the GOP offering for President, here's something other than else for you: a free font based on what we've seen of the man's handwriting. It is, as the man, blunt, direct, and uncomplicated.

It's also named TinyHand. Yes, they went there, but then, that's BuzzFeed for you. That's right, BuzzFeed. The thumbnail version of this history: BF wanted to compose a satirical article featuring fictitious-but-totally-believable (though by now it's hard to think of something the man wouldn't say) Trumpian notes for one of the debates. The editor asked one of BF's designers (and a person who also does work for Font Bureau) to scan examples of Hisself's hand written output and create that font. And we did. And like DJT himself, it's probably never going away:


Actually, it has some appeal to it. The pent-up furiosity, a sort of ersatz anger, kind of drips from it. It's artless, but in a way, it's artful because of it. It is, indeed the handwriting of a man who has little else to say but the obvious, and say it with a punch!

I loaded it on my computer and instantly, it copped an attitude:


This may be more trouble than I anticipated.

Well, at least there's little, if any follow through.

And so it goes.

For your enlightenment: The article at FastCoDesign announcing the font, and a direct link to the Dropbox so you can download it. If the Dropbox link doesn't work, then just go to the FastCoDesign article and there should be a link there.

31 August 2015

[art] Jake Weidemann, Master Penman

3226.
Of all the things I do, my handwriting is perhaps my proudest thing. I have developed a personal italic script that I feel is rather unique, and am always tuning it with interesting things I have seen. When I found that my natural handwriting closely resembled the italic style that Fred Eager promoted or the ones currently promoted by Getty and Dubay, you know I had to be pretty gratified by this.

There is a level to which one can aspire even above that of beautiful, calligraphic everyday handwriting. The IAMPETH – the International Association of Master Penmen, Engrossers*, and Teachers of Handwriting is an association of people passionate about penmanship … the sort of thing they used to teach in colleges, the sort of skill you needed to get ahead in business. They certify Master Penmen (and presumably, penwomen). In design,  you learn how to paint with type. Penmen paint pictures with the most exquisite handwriting you've probably never seen, and almost certainly never were taught.

What follows is a lightly-sponsored UPROXX video giving a glimpse of what the most recently-matriculated Master Penman … Jake Weidemann … does and a hint of that passion.



The IAMPETH is located on the web at http://www.iampeth.com/, and anyone can join … you don't have to be a master penman, though if that's on your bucket list, this would be the idea place to start. Non-members  have access to community and back-issues of the newsletter, but anyone can take advantage of the protips and see the art and watch the videos.

* An engrosser, in case you were still wondering, with respect to handwriting, is someone who copies out text beautifully.

18 May 2014

[writing] I Have A New Cross Pen. Bring On Your Sword.

3084.
Okay, so the title's a little grandiloquent. Or, hell, a lot. There was an alternative title to this posting, riffing on something Pete Seeger had written on a banjo as sort of an answer to what Woody Guthrie's guitar famously said: This machine surrounds facists and makes them surrender. 

But so what? It's my blog. You want me to be a shrinking violet about my bad self, you go write your own blog about me.

Anyway.


Licensed to carry in all 50 states and the District of Columbia.
It's a First Amendment thing, yo.
It has latterly been my birthday, and I had recently lost my old trusty Cross Classic Century sliver chrome ballpoint. It's been a strange journey. I loathe ballpoint pens, generally speaking.  My personal favorite, aside from this unlikely hero, is the Pilot Precise V5. I like a fine line, not too fine, and the liquid ink from the Pilot is always perfect, has never let me down.

Sustaining a writing habit with the Pilot can be kind of pricey, though, and a little unsustainable to the personal economy, incomes being what they are these days. While I was in handwriting bliss with the Pilot Precise, in my daily work I actually consume pens. I leave them dry. I find excuses and reasons to write. When I was a kid I could scarcely be bothered; I thought pens lasted forever, or as near as practically so. As an adult, I exhaust them.

Ballpoints are also eminently practical, a truth so obvious as to be axiomatic. They travel. They rarely, if ever, leak. With a minimum effort of care, a ballpoint will keep going and going until the ink runs out. So a side quest was to find the perfect dependable ballpoint pen. Since I keep my personal standards in this area so high, it's been a long search.

Sometime in the last few years, I know not how, I battered Cross Century (judging by the style of the lettering, it was made before they started calling it Classic) fell into my hands. I was still obsessing on finding a dependable, affordable fountain pen (that was as I was getting acquainted with the Preppy) so it sat on the shelf for a while longer. Then, balancing the old Century in my hand one day I imagined that it was kind of a cross of two things; the desire to have a dependable modern writing tool and a well-designed object for daily use. 

And, heck, the thing just felt good. So I went to find refills, imagining it would be difficult. It was, a little, but I narrowed down Staples as the best source; not only do they have Cross-brand refills, and a more bargain-priced refill by Penatia that works acceptably.

There was a bit of a breaking-in period. The Century form factor was like a high-performance car: responsive, tight, giving if you got on its wavelength but unforgiving if you didn't (I tend to a vise-grip on my pen as I use it continually). So it's taught me a lot about writing with the pen rather than just dispassionately using it. You have to form a relationship with it, but once you do, it tends to reward you rather well.

Suddenly, it was gone. I have one suspicion as to where it might be, and that will have to wait until Monday to be followed-up. But I missed that pen a hell of a lot more than I thought I would, was obsessing on the fact that it no longer was available to me to use. So … what a perfect birthday gift! And so plans were made.

The purchasing experience was a bit more frought than I counted on. The display at Staples promises that you will get something from the stock room, all you have to do is bring a card from the little stack inside the little hole next to the display model and they'll run back and get one. I had, originally, the basic model, described as a Cross Classic Century Lustrous Chrome. Simple, austere yet elegant. it's the one with the black plastic tip on the clip end. But despite the inventory showing three there was not one. And yeah, we could get it shipped, but wanting it today made for an awkward moment.

How is it I was so obsessed over this silly ballpoint pen? I'm still more than a little amazed at myself. Well, if illiteracy is no virtue, then extremism in the acquisition of one's favorite writing utensil is no vice. That's what I always say (backdated).

The manager of the Staples was most kind and generous this day. After phoning Jantzen Beach and finding none in stock not there neither, and sensing, perceptively, that making me wait any further for this is punishment cruel and unusual, he found the next more expensive model and let me have it for the price we actually had already paid (payment processed before the inventory discrepancy had made itself known) for the cheaper model. And so I now have it.

The new pen is a Classic Century, but it's the Medalist. The biggest difference is the addition of 23-carat gold plate on the clip, the cowling near the business end and the end cap which was plastic on the Lustrous Chrome edition. It feels even better than the old one and it's a little more luxe without being blowout-ostentatious, so it's been easy to get to know and to use.

… even though, it must be said, it comes with a medium point rather than a fine point. It's acceptable for now; I'll not waste it. Writing is a sacrament and ink the consecrated wine. But what is it about pen companies that they think, unless you're looking for some fancy roller ball or gel-ink pen, all you want is medium? Irritating, is is.

But me and my new fascism-surrounding weapon will get along just fine I think.

This all may seem a little intense, but if being obsessive about my pen is wrong, then I don't want to be write.

Er, right.

27 January 2014

[art] Saturday in Portlandia: Handwriting Class with Barbara Getty and Inga Dubay

3019.
If it's Saturday and I'm in a handwriting class and there are adults there, this must be Portland.

That's what I couldn't help thinking while waiting for the workshop to start, and various variation thereunto.

This last Saturday, the handwriting artists and calligraphers Inga Dubay and Barbara Getty held a three-hour seminar on their Getty-Dubay Handwriting Method in a room called Kempton Hall at the Trinity Episcopal Cathedral in NW Portlandia. This was a feast for my eyes and senses on so many levels.

The room itself was large yet cozy, with the sort of clear-lacquered floor one expects to see in auditoriums and dance rooms. Inlaid into this is a large labyrinth, the kind that's popular these days to walk along as a meditative tool, and a stage at the front of the room which has seen decades of use, worn in that well-maintained, much-loved way such things can be.

All was in brown, comforting, earth tones. Above the room, on the south wall, a monumental painting of the cleric this room was named for commanded and watched over all; it's a very very kind space. And we were all there to see how we might right gud.

Er, write good. Sorry. Couldn't suppress the joke.

The seminar was free and offered me a chance to kick my obsessed-upon handwriting up to the next level, and The Wife™, who is writing more stuff these days and I couldn't be more pleased with this, wanted some tips to make her handwriting sing a little more.

Ain't no sin there, wanting to handwrite better, and I'll stand in nobody's way.

My handwriting has always been good, and the way I obsess on it, it should be. But a refresher betimes is no sin, and when you can get Getty and Dubay's insights for just showing up … well, as Tom once said, free is a very good price!
You may have heard that the preference for handwriting in America is declining, with even cursive in danger of becoming a lost art (I wouldn't be so sad as to lose cursive, but more on that later). So, even though the seminar  was on a Saturday tucked into a corner of NW Portland which is kind of hard to find parking in even on a slow day, the attendance was … well, extremely heartening. We got there about 35 minutes before the show got underway, which was lucky for us as we were kind of pushing it. Though I lived in NW back when it was still affordable, there's one thing that hasn't changed at all: Parking is hell there. We lucked and got one of the few spots in the Trinity Cathedral's microchip-sized parking lot.

I'd heard of Getty-Dubay handwriting before but this was going to be an up-close look, and I was eager, to say the least. I've been an advocate of italic handwriting (as opposed to cursive, which is what we all learned in school – I was a victim of the Palmer method) for all my adult life so far. When I was
The first of my many role-models.
Sourced from here.
in high school I had an epiphany after looking at typing from an IBM Selectric Light Italic typeball (how the olde-tymers kicked word-processing old-school, yo). I can't remember the day or time of the epiphany, but I do remember gaining, quite suddenly, the awareness of two things:

  1. I didn't have to write cursive the way they said I had to anymore, and
  2. If I made it legible, they wouldn't care anyway.
I had started in junior high, actually, writing my minuscule q a certain way that gave it a foresail-shaped banner instead of a loop, not knowing then I had discovered one of my own keys to distinctive, recognizable, and admired handwriting (I am not bragging when I say I've received more compliments than I can count on my everyday hand … it's the truth). 

What I was busy discovering, in my reinventing-the-wheel way, was italic handwriting. To most of us, italic means what I just did with that word italic there … giving it a slant for emphasis. The word italic comes to us from Italy, where the slanted hand was first devised. And it was  used there for fine, fine handwriting … every handwriting aficionado knows of Arrighi's La Operina, and it would do one no damage to peruse a copy when the chance presents itself. This is italic at its utmost, and most poetic.

Today's handwriting is a mess. This I lay at the door of what we commonly call 'cursive'. It has a noble purpose - speed. The word cursive itself shares Latin roots with a word which also gave us coursing and Corsair … words denoting fleet speed. Some call it running script. To promote quickness in writing, letters are joined and loops introduced, and if you can do it right, it stays readable. 

It's tough, though, to do cursive right. Cursive promotes speed and speed becomes its own excuse, leading to a mess of loops and capital letters than in no way resemble either the minuscule versions or the constructed, printed version. Sure, there's a G, Q and S somewhere in the strange cursive construction meant to stand in for them. But you've pretty much got to take their word for it. Cursive destroys legible handwriting, without legibility, nobody wants to do it much. Who's going to blame them?

Italic handwriting promotes deliberation, and if you started out slowly at it at first, don't worry: you needed training wheels before you can ride on two wheels, and starting out in italic can be maddeningly slow. 

But then, you weren't born writing cursive, either.


The Getty-Dubay method teaches italic handwriting with an emphasis on simple rules you learn on the 'printing' side of the learning curve which just about anyone who can hold a pencil can aspire to. Then, when you're ready to go to the 'big leagues' of cursive italic, you learn a handful of simple joins, then you learn you can use them or not, as you care to. There's a wonderfully simple structure that you can decorate up or leave spare as you please. Italic really is more simple to learn than you might think. I'd challenge people to find this out for themselves.

Upon arrival, we were greeted by a very nice and polite young lady who gave us white envelopes with the seminar's materials. There were handouts with practice-sheets (which we all used, rather lustily) five or six sheets of good-old-fashioned looseleaf, and the most delightful example-card which now has pride of a certain place in my studio. It's pleasant just to look at, and inspirational to look at besides. It'll stay up there for a long time to come, I expect.

The teachers, Barbara Getty and Inga Dubay, give off the air of being elementary school teachers from way back and, as far as I was able to find, they were; you wouldn't think that they could deliver the basics in three hours but, by Arrighi's nibs, they sure were. The passion they had for this certainly delivered. And the classmates were as affable and friendly a group of learners as I ever wanted to find. There was free World Cup coffee, which can make a bad day good and a good day better, and they sold some of their books at a table in the back for a discount just for your having come out.

I've read books by Lloyd Reynolds and Fred Eager, and Getty/Dubay belongs alongside of them; ahead, because they are the current champions of handwriting as a thing in these modern times, a task which must seem thankless now and again. But I'd recommend this to everyone. Look, you don't have to write for anyone but yourself even to enjoy the fun in handwriting this way.

From what I've seen, Getty and Dubay run a seminar like this every January. They are more popular than you'd think, and if there's going to be another one in January 2015, then I'd just start making my plans now.

You can keep up with Inga and Betty on their website, http://www.handwritingsuccess.com/.  I've seen their books on handwriting at Powell's, as well.

10 June 2013

[art] Yes, They Still Give Out Handwriting Awards

2940.Who says good handwriting counts for nothing any more?

Whether you call it handwriting or the more archaic (and perhaps sexist) penmanship, handwriting seems to be a dying thing; we hear the dirges played constantly.

This is unfortunate. Not only does handwriting develop motor and reasoning skills that typing simply can't, it connects the author to the text in an indelibly undeniable way. Your writing becomes more you.  I'm convinced that the more you write by hand the more you think about what you're saying; typing is speedy, and most people … at least it seems that way, by the writing I read … don't think much about what it is they're saying.

According to a story by the Associated Press posting on KOIN TV's website, though, gives hope, if only because there is at least one 6th-grader out there who takes the time to write the way we all used to have to.

It's here at http://www.koin.com/2013/06/10/wash-6th-grader-honored-for-her-handwriting/. It was promoted by Zaner-Bloser, and I've made my italic-over-cursive partisanship known by now I should hope, but still, it's nicer to see that there's adept cursive writers than to know that there's nobody who cares at all.

26 August 2011

[type] 1927: When The Pen Tool Actually Had Ink In It

2673.Gene Gable, in one of his usually-excellent columns for CreativePro.com, lets us look and leaf through his copy of the 1927 edition of the Speedball Textbook (to use a latter-day title).


… this seems a good general ethic, even if you don't use the pen.

The Speedball pen grew out of a letterer's frustration with the tools at had. The original Speedball nibs, produced by the Hunt Pen Company in 1915, had reservoirs built in and were reputedly named for the swiftness their design brought to the enterprise.

Everyone who's ever even flirted with type either has held a copy of this book in their hands or still has a copy. I, come to that, have a copy of the 20th Edition of the Speedball Textbook on my shelf. Good memories obtain.

Learn some nice handwriting, peoples, however you can do it. 

28 October 2010

[type] The Dying Art Of Handwriting?

2530.
Handwriting makes the news again.

According to the story in The Oregonian (at http://www.oregonlive.com/education/index.ssf/2010/10/most_college_students_print_as.html), fewer and fewer students are writing in cursive or cursive-style handwriting, most preferring to "print", or use a manuscript style. Citing a PSU professor, of a recent assignment which 17 essays were turned in, only two were written cursively.

I'm of a certain mind about why it's important to have some sort of handwriting style, or at least be unafraid to do so. The professor mentioned above, Richard Christen, has an interesting slant (so to speak) on it:
What most concerns Christen, who has studied the history of handwriting, is the loss of the aesthetic qualities of handwriting with its descent into cold print. Cursive writing in its flourishes and graceful strokes expresses an artistic beauty that goes beyond its utility and gives artistic experience to those who use it, he says. Students today "are not doing this kind of craftsmanship activity that they used to do on a daily basis," he says.
This is something that puts into words whatever I feel when I do do handwriting, which is something I attempt to do at least once a day in my diaries. I only partly do it to capture my days - I also do it because in these days when drawing inspiration is hard to come by, there's something ineffable about putting pen to paper and drawing letters - writing - that I just crave. It feels good. It's productive creation.

The next graf, if the previous graf did nothing to convince why handwriting is a good thing to do, should break through on practical considerations:
They also may be losing an edge in their learning. Researchers using magnetic resonance imaging to study brain activity say handwriting, whether print or cursive, engages more of the brain in learning and forming ideas.
So if you like having brain, if for no other reason, a good artistic handwriting style will commend itself to you.

All the rest is just aesthetic preference. I adore italic, such as the type promoted by the highly-underappreciated Fred Eager and the similar-but-subtly-different style promoted by Dubay and Getty. I don't much care for the cursive styles such as D'Nealian and Zaner-Bloser (these look very much like the schoolroom-cursive your teacher probably gave up on teaching you by about seventh-grade) but that doesn't mean they can't be made beautifully (and, as I said, it's strictly an aesthetic consideration after a certain point anyway).

But I would advocate that, whoever you are, it's never too late - or unnecessary - to learn cursive writing. It's a kind of art that is open to all, and all you have to do is get out a piece of paper and try it.

And if you do it well enough - trust me on this - people will admire you and compliment you. And when's the last time you got a compliment these days? Especially on art you've produced, hmmm? And you don't have to learn how to even draw stick figures for this, and who knows? Maybe you'll be the next Samuel Pepys.

Although the way they're talking about handwriting "going extinct" makes me feel like I'm one of those aboriginal tribes who have a dying language that only two or three elders speak.

So get out a piece of paper, find a handwriting style you can enjoy (there are many graphics on the intarweb that you can download and print) and just try something! It's good for you.

Though if you get Fred Eager's book, you'll get example and exercise sheets to copy. And that's invaluable.

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21 January 2010

[type] There Seems To Be No Such Thing As A Beautiful Shorthand

2305.I have certain requirements for my handwriting, no matter what mode it is; alphabetic, syllabaric, whatever. I also have a penchant for diary writing - actual diary writing, not public blogging (though I love this too, obviously).

Diarising fiend that I am, I find that, maybe I get lazy or something, but the chance write, put pen to paper, doesn't present itself as much as I'd like. Or maybe I'm too picky about my surroundings, or maybe I just approach it the wrong way sometimes.

Occasionally it occurs to me that I'd get more down and have more fun using a shorthand. Many of the great figures in literature, I find, used shorthand (George Bernard Shaw used Pitman). So, I think, now and again, the acquisition of a shorthand skill would be good. Problem: All the shorthand systems in the world I find ugly.

Here, sourced from Wikipedia, is The Lord's Prayer, written in the Pitman shorthand system:



Now, understand clearly that the following is meant as no reflection on the proclivities, preferences, or talents of the scribe who produced the above, but; ugh. Not beautiful. Not even pretty.

But what about the other major popular system, Gregg shorthand? Well, here's The Lord's Prayer in Gregg:



Better, but not by much. I find the presence of harmonious curves and a certain slant rather appealing, but not enough to commend.

Another thing that should be clearly understood is that I'm not judging each system on technical worth or efficiency; if you want to dash down a thought in a split-second, shorthand – developed for a time when court reporters had to do everything by hand – is just the thing. They accomplish thier goal by using coded strokes to map to sounds rather than letters to form phonetic bits. Aesthetically, though, these both leave colder than cold. And, moreover, say I do learn one of these systems, but fall away from using them. Decades later, am I going to have to carry about a key to remind myself what it was I wrote?

Some have devised their own shorthand, and I may or may not be that bright, but what good is a shorthand that will lock its secrets away with the absence of the owner?

A shorthand system may be something I'd use … but as for now, the search for such a thing continues. As for now, the plain old Latin alphabet will have to suffice.

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21 October 2009

[type] Pen And Ink Journal - A Handwritten Blog!

2239.Naturally, I'm hoping the headline got your attention. But it's not a joke – the blog Pen & Ink Journal, an actual blog at http://www.penandink-journal.com/ is an actual, surfable blog, and the entries are handwritten – in a beautiful, masterly handwritten script:



Naturally, she's not writing directly on the aether, but she's handwriting every entry and uploading them as a JPG graphic. What you see above it just a small sample of her masterful facility with handwriting.

She's a calligrapher named Lisa Ridgely, and you can see she's quite a talent by going to her site, lisaridgely.com, and just opening your eyes, kiddos. Her work is amazing and graceful, italic and swashful (but not too much), each letter and word drawn with an obvious eye for what's exactly right – not too much, not too little.

But at least stop by Pen & Ink Journal, because one thing that artists worry about is, is there a place for the handmade in the computer world, and Lisa proves that, indeed there is …

… with an honest-to-pete, handwritten blog.

Handwriters, rejoice!

Oh, yes, follow her on Twitter at @lisa_ridgely. I am. Via Creative Curio, of course.

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