Call Me Quell

Design thinker, writer, & doer.
A The intersection of poetry and typography is in my greatest interest.
(all hail, Robert Bringhurst)
Open for freelance!




"I’ve often thought that the unit of measure that best suits prose is the human breath, but there was no air in my father’s sentences; he seemed to be suffocating inside them."


He found out about the emphysema, the blisters forming as bubbles along his lungs, after he had kicked my brother out of our home.

We had thought, Heart attack. We had thought, Great emotional strain. Not the twenty years of smoking, the ten years since his last cigarette…

Here is chipmnk's response: a pained, beautiful bit of flash-fiction inspired by the article.


I have begun a design/writing project with chipmunk and I’m excited about it.

I describe it this way: 

This is a daily* practice exercise based in memory, reaction, and creative expression. It is also an attempt to become a better person. It is a form of taking control, of manifesting worth, meaning, and purpose through engagement.

There are no hard-and-fast rules: we picked a list, we read the article, and we react. I will try to do this in ways that are artful, enriching, and interesting. Some days this will go better than others.

* within three days, because I also believe in self-compassion.

I welcome all thoughts, reactions, and constructive criticisms (but be kind, please).


even love can be cruel in this world

(Source: liartownusa, via ghostburgers)



8.27.2014 Unexpected sex scene


by Delia Pless


from Small Print by Justine Basa

It is a startling thing
to open one’s macbook in a coffee shop
to find Men in Black III
playing in the browser.

Read More

(via therumpus)




There is a massive, persistent, hexagon-shaped jet stream on Saturn’s north pole, and four Earths can fit inside of it. Bonus: auroras.

Watch the video.


Can I ask how Blue changed your life, if you don't mind talking about it? Because I sort of feel like it changed mine too, but I've never been able to put it into words that don't sound ridiculous to me.



Well, I’d love to, but honestly, the level it still reaches me at, after years — years! — of knowing every note of it, of no longer living the sort of life about which Blue speaks, of not being the kind of seeker by and for whom Blue was made but the grown person who that seeker becomes, its consequent, its Hejira or Night Ride Home; after years of being a person for whom you’d think Blue would be a memory, however fond, instead of a living text, ever-fresh, vivid as it was the night I bought the tape (“The Nice Price”) someplace and brought it home to my tiny studio apartment in Norwalk; after all these years, still the only way I really know how to talk about Blue is to sort of just get out a notebook and start writing

I am on a lonely road and I am traveling traveling traveling

in huge letters, or

Just before our love got lost, you said

hard enough to scratch through the page, or

Child with a child pretending,

weary of lies you are sending home:

so you sign all the papers in the family name

you’re sad, and you’re sorry, but you’re not ashamed

and then just sit there completely wrecked, singing “you’re sad, and you’re sorry, but you’re not ashamed” and thinking let me write a line like that before I die, let me keep that shining beacon in sightwhile remembering that when she’s writing Blue she’s basically nailing two or three lines like that per song

Probably the best album of the 70s according to me; the only one of the major 60s Acts Everybody’s Dad Thinks Are Great who made a record I put on its level is Pink Floyd (Piper At the Gates of Dawn).  



memphis-milano"Rivieria" wool carpet by Nathalie du Pasquier in 1983. Wool 6’ x 8’.

(via willlaren)