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!





(via thesweetestspit)




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I want to say the first time I listened to Elliott Smith changed me, turned me into a different person, but that comes later. The first time I listened to him, I didn’t even realize it, and it was but background noise. Part of Good Will Hunting, a movie I was too young to understand at the time.

This week, Alvin (@chipmnk) riffs off a cerebral essay by Zadie Smith in a way that is brave and honest and makes me cry. 

(via chipmnk)



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I wasn’t aware of my race until recently. At least, that’s how it feels. Despite the diverse school, the languages swirling around me, the Saturdays spent in Korean school.


I have this written down from a couple years ago but never posted it:

I promise I won’t do this every day, but chipmnk's response to the second essay in our slow procession through a list of 50 is beautiful, important, and perfect. Go read it.





Coming soon…

I’m looking forward to my copy of Lagom magazine #1.  Pretty much the whole team from 8 Faces magazine has been involved, including myselfErik and of course Sam and Elliot Jay Stocks as editors.


Erik Spiekermann might have recently retired from running Edenspiekermann and FontShop, but his version of retirement is somewhat different to most sixty-seven year-olds: he’s decided to go back to his roots and has founded the letterpress workshop P98a in Berlin. In our debut issue, which will be available to buy on Wednesday 24th September, Erik shared some thoughts about his new venture. Here’s an excerpt:

Thirty years ago, the message and the medium were identical. You set letters into words by touching them. The body of a metal letter is an object that compositors can read, from left to right, albeit upside-down. In order to read it comfortably, however, the surface of that object is covered in ink and pressed against paper. That’s what we call printing. We still print today, although the process of converting data into little blobs of ink is all but invisible. The marks on paper show up as ‘printed’ letters and are perfectly readable, but there is no indication of what happened inside that printer. The substrate itself is not supposed to be noticed; it is just a receptacle for the message.

And why did return to printing now?

First and foremost this is an attempt to go back to where type and typography come from: an ingenious system of pre-fabricated elements that we assemble into words and pages.

Wise words, indeed. You can read the full piece in Lagom #1 (the photo above is our proof copy), and to get notified about the issue’s release, sign up to our newsletter.



"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)