Wednesday, January 24, 2007


This post is actually the introduction to the one underneath (I had to think hard about scroll dynamics for a moment) because I'd like to explain my current frustration, but I think the other post might be more valuable as a document in its own right. So here we go:

I have a bad habit of taking on design jobs that stress me out: catalogues about beautiful art projects by poor artists at the frayed ends of their arts grants who have overspent their budgets and realise that they have just enough money to get the books printed but not enough to meet my fee. So I end up bartering my time for their artwork.

It's not a bad deal; I have a pretty impressive art collection, most of which is framed because I have no place to store it except crammed together on the walls, and I've probably spent more on the framing than the amount the art was worth, so I'm usually out of pocket but visually stimulated. If I'm ever in straitened circumstances I'd have to sell off a piece or two, but it would be like selling one of my cats. [Actually, it wouldn't be THAT bad, but it would hurt.] I'm pretty attached to my hard-earned art.

I'm doing it again; I've spent the last four days glued to my computer, resizing images, playing with fonts, picking and discussing colours and crops, with only minimal sleep. For two very sweet and talented gals who are going to do marvellous things in about a week and a half and need a catalogue to sell at the opening. Unfortunately, they only got organised on this front at the last minute.

The file went to the printer early this morning. I got all the essays and the rest of the photos on Saturday, having had the first delivery of images on Friday. This broke the Rush Record, and I would like to avoid doing it again, if I can.

So that's why I've written this.

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