An A–Z of Unusual Words.

I have noticed that other people are also noticing — and illustrating — the obscure, almost-forgotten corners of our language. Wallflower words, if you will. So rather than wax lyrical I’ll just share visuals, from The Project Twins A–Z of Unusual Words.

These images explore the meaning behind the words, which are sometimes even more strange or unusual. This project explores the synthesis between form and content, and words and images with the aim of producing work that is both visually interesting and informative.

Dactylion: An anatomical landmark located at the tip of the middle finger…Dactylion.jpg
(Relevant to those who practise yoga.)

Montivagant: Wandering over hills and mountains…
Montivagant.jpg
(Relevant to those afflicted with bucolic wanderlust.)

Pogonotrophy: The act of cultivating, or growing and grooming, a moustache, beard, sideburns or other facial hair…
Pogonotrophy.jpg
(Relevant in this charitably hairy month.)

Vernalagnia: A romantic mood brought on by Spring…
Vernalagnia.jpg
(Seasonally relevant, depending on your hemisphere.)

PS. The Project Twins also did a completely charming piece — “Do You Want To Know A Secret?” — for the completely charming Illustrated Beatles collection.

The book[ing] desk

{ Information desk, via FFFFOUND!}

I’m not sure I’d trust information sourced from behind a desk made of books that clearly can’t be opened for information-sourcing purposes, but I would certainly trust the person who designed said desk.

It’s rather reminiscent of that favourite chromatically arranged bookshelf of mine:

{ from Periodic tables of everything, which is definitely a related post }

A bouquet of alphabetically sharpened pencils

Alphabet sharpened pencils

{ by Dalton Ghetti, on Designers Go To Heaven, via FFFFOUND! }

“Don’t you just love New York in the Fall? Makes me want to buy school supplies. I would send you a bouquet of alphabetically sharpened pencils if I knew your name and address…”  — (a slightly altered) Tom Hanks as Joe Fox in You’ve Got Mail (which, I confess, I have seen at least 200 times).

I am going to New York in the Fall. Am very excited. Excited enough to buy a bouquet of pencils in celebration. If only I could get a set of 26 like this, it would certainly heighten the vacationary* stationery loveliness.

* No, not a real word.

General admits bullets don’t solve everything

“Some problems in the world
are not bullet-izable”

– Brig.Gen. H. R. McMaster,
We Have Met The Enemy and He Is Powerpoint, nytimes.com

Does the General realise that his anti-PowerPoint quip is also a marvellously ironic anti-war slogan?

PS. No, “bullet-izable” is NOT a word.

PPS. The PowerPoint slide in question is actually rather pretty (if you ignore the content).


{ click for detail/zoom }

Even Nonomnivores Make Misteaks

We learn  from our mistakes. We learn from others’ mistakes. “The perosn (sic) who doesn’t make mistakes is unlikely to make anything”. If we didn’t make mistakes, I’d be out of a (new) job. AND I’d have nothing to quibble about. And nothing to scold myself over. For to err is human, and we are Errthlings after all.


{ by Monsieur Cabinet on Swiss Miss, via FFFFOUND! }

…but could you make mine an eggplant steak?
Or tuna if you must.
I don’t eat mammals.

Loves: Books & Spiral staircases (all). Does Not Love: Eames (some).

I love books.

Love love love. Adore. Cherish. Worship. Covet & Lust after.

I also have a VERY strong aesthetic attraction to spiral staircases. [Aside: I once scared off a fellow theatre patron by waxing lyrical about the set design for Bell Shakespeare's Hamlet, and my "thing" for spiral staircases].

So to me, this image…


{ Casa Aquino by Augusto Fernandez Mas, on Freshome, via FFFFOUND! }

…is almost perfect.

Almost.

Why?

I just can’t abide the Eames Lounge Chair (670) and Ottoman(671). Look at it. ‘Tis a boring blot on an otherwise heavenly room.

This aversion, I think, is borne of 5 years working for an architecture & interior design magazine — where I chance upon an image of ‘The Eames’ at least three times a day, usually as prop-furniture in project promo photo shoots — in addition to a lifelong general disaffection for Stuff What Everyone’s Already Got.

Some people (okay, LOTS of people) adore 670 & 671. And I’mma let them finish… but I’m sorry, I think it ruins everything. See, That Chair can even turn this really sweet and interesting poster (full of good intent and fine advice):


{ Graphic-ExchanGE via FFFFOUND! }

…into “Oh. Another pretentious design poster”:


{ image credit: ditto }

Even the ineffable cuteness of Polaroid can’t save this from the Eames Lounge Instant Cliché Effect (patent pending).

It’s just so thoroughly and undeniably… beige (in the figurative sense… unless you buy this one, in which case it is also literally beige, and therefore the definitive definition OF beige).

But to prove that I’ve no deep-seated [oh. Oh that was BAD. Sorry] prejudice against Eames’ designs in general, I’d like to introduce a beautiful new acquaintance I made just this past weekend:


{ via eamesoffice.com. Take special note of the jaunty umbrella and hat. Very handsome; pure class. More chair-lust here. }

Everyone, I’d like you to meet the Eames Time-Life Executive Chair. Designed in 1960 for the Time-Life building in New York. The pair I had the pleasure of meeting — in a severely cool retro-antiques furniture store the quiet country streets of Milton, South Coast NSW — were upholstered in aqua-blue wool tweed, with the smoothest, buttery, faun-coloured suede back and armrests… I fawned over them. I thought they were truly lovely.

This fleeting encounter was an informative one. All this time I thought I was anti-Eames, yet all it took was 5 minutes with two darling retro chairs to prove that this dislike only applies to SOME Eames (Eameses? Eames’es?).

This is a happy discovery, for absolutist prejudice is never a pleasant thing.


Disclaimer: This does not change my feelings re: 670 & 671.