Or, rather, this is a story about her box.

When I was younger, I often wondered why people felt the need to keep knick-knacks and keepsakes from years gone by. My father was especially guilty of this habit; he had (and still has) shelves in his workshop lined with every sort of tchotchke, from troll dolls to coasters gathered from bars across the country.

But, on an otherwise uneventful night in August when my grandmother decided to pull out her box of mementos, that all changed.

Her box was special. It was a time capsule from a lost age. An age without the Internet or cell phones to distract and entertain. An age when gas cost 25-cents a gallon and the cool kids when cruising on Saturday nights.

This box contained the things that she deemed important. Countless kindergarten projects and baby pictures littered her floor as we unpacked her remembrances. Scrapbooks filled with corsages and dinner napkins from events, parties, dances and proms stood in stacks like towers guarding her legacy.

As we reached the bottom of one pile, I saw a small notebook with the word “Autographs” embossed on its cover and my eyes lit up.

“Grandma,” I asked, “What’s this?”

“That’s something very special,” she replied.

I thumbed through its fragile leaves, the smell of old, worn paper rising to greet my nose, and came across page after page of autographs. Many of them were from high school friends and old acquaintances, but one page stood out from the rest.

The page had two signatures, arranged haphazardly as if written in a hurry, and the words “The Crickets” signed across the top.

“Are these the Crickets?” I choked as I realized what I held in my hand.

“Oh yes,” my grandmother calmly replied.

I scanned the page frantically, searching for the one autograph I knew I would recognize. Instead, I was greeted with the signatures of Joe Mauldin and Jerry Allison.

The look of disappointment on my face did not escape my grandmother. She proceeded to tell me the story about that night; how she had gone to see them at the civic center downtown and how she had waited after the show to get their autographs. She also told me how she hadn’t been able to get Buddy Holly’s signature because he had gone out a different exit.

As she spoke, I turned the page and small piece of paper dropped out of the autograph book and onto the ground in front of me.

My grandmother grew silent and watched as I picked it up and turned it over in my hands. A small smile crept into the corners of her lips and stayed there as my eyes examined the page.

Then, I saw it.

There, in the upper left corner and written in dark, black ink, were the two words I had been looking for.

Buddy Holly.

“But I thought you said you couldn’t get his autograph?” I asked, puzzled.

“That wasn’t the only time I saw Buddy Holly and The Crickets, dear,” she replied with a wink.

The rest of the night was spent Googling the value of Buddy Holly’s autograph, joking about what other autographs grandma might have stashed away somewhere and hearing the stories behind every page in that book.

When we were finished, we carefully placed everything back in the box, closed the lid, sealed it with a fresh strip of packing tape and placed it back in the rafters of the garage.

“Someday, you’ll be able to show your grandchildren your box,” she said as I hugged her goodbye.

The written word is an amazing thing. A simple signature can carry with it memories and stories, friendships and fights, monetary value and sentimental significance. What will your signature leave behind?

I can’t remember if I cried

When I read about his widowed bride

But something touched me deep inside

The day the music died.

Time to bust out your game face, time to gather round the sofa, time to consume your weight in fried mozzarella sticks and buffalo wings and time to cheer on players at the top of their game as they throw the best that they’ve got at their equally-matched foes.

Oh, and apparently there will be a football game at some point as well.

I’m not a big football person, but like many, I am a fan of Super Bowl commercials. The challenge of presenting a memorable, compelling narrative in chunks of thirty to sixty seconds is daunting enough, but when you add in 111 million viewers (the total US viewership alone in 2011), the task is dang near herculean.

And while any artist would panic at the thought of their work being viewed and criticized by over one hundred million people, the creative types behind Super Bowl advertisements face another hurdle: cost. While the perils of finance are familiar to all artists, thirty-second advertising slots for the 2012 Super Bowl sold for up to $3.5 million dollars a chunk.

I don’t even have a horse in this race, and I am hyperventilating at the thought.

Some might scoff at the above assertion that the admeisters behind the Super Bowl advertisements are artists, but I stick by that appellation. The tension between art and commerce is always present, and when we ask if commerce is art, it becomes even more difficult to divine. You’ll have one group up in arms at the mere thought that something that blatantly sells a product could ever be art, while others will roll their eyes and point to all of those vintage travel and liquor posters that people hang in their houses as artwork. Then it comes down to what you consider “art,” and after that it gets messy, especially if you are knee-deep in Super Bowl.

For my money, advertising can be art, and vice-versa. I’m especially drawn to art that creates an experience or conveys a narrative beyond the surface, and I’m drawn to the same thing in advertising. Take last year’s break-out ad for Volkswagon, in which a little boy in a Darth Vader mask stomps through his house, attempting to use “The Force” to move household objects. He finally succeeds in using his powers to start the family Volkswagon, with a little help from dad and the fancy automatic controller doo-hickey (highly technical term, that).

High art? No. But it told a compelling narrative with an impact that was far more universal than selling any particular car or product. We all were kids once, and remember how powerless that felt at times. Darth Vader may have given us nightmares, but he was big, strong, and probably didn’t have a bed time, therefore a little part of us wanted to be him. For a second, we were that little kid again, and when he gained phenomenal cosmic powers, so did we. And it was pretty cool.

What would a Blackwing Super Bowl advertisement look like? I’d like to think it would pay homage to the legends who came before, perhaps incorporating the accomplishments of the Blackwing artists we’ve highlighted previously. How it ends, of course, would be up to you and the next generation of legends.

Give us your pitch for a Blackwing Super Bowl ad in the comments below! And be sure to check back Monday for our round-up of our favorite Super Bowl ads of 2012.

Photo credit Stock.Xchg/Vacanjay

Harlem during the time of Hughes was both violent and vibrant, with the sounds of jazz and blues spilling out into the streets late into the night. Haunting and melancholy in one measure, then full of life and joy in the next, it makes sense that the music of Harlem sinuously wound its way through Hughes’s work.

“Droning a drowsy syncopated tune,
Rocking back and forth to a mellow croon,
     I heard a Negro play.
Down on Lenox Avenue the other night
By the pale dull pallor of an old gas light
     He did a lazy sway . . .
     He did a lazy sway . . .
To the tune o’ those Weary Blues.”

But, while there has been much discussion in terms of musical influences on Hughes’s work, less attention is given to Hughes’s own work as a lyricist. In 1946, Hughes collaborated with legendary composer Kurt Weill on “Street Scene,” an American opera based on a play of the same name by Elmer Rice.

The lyrics run the gamut of musical stylings, ranging from the pop-culture patter of “Moon-faced and Starry-Eyed” and the elegant restraint of “What Good Would the Moon Be,” to the heartsick shuffle of “Lonely House.”

Nor was “Street Scene” Hughes’s only foray into the world of opera and musical theatre. “Troubled Island,” for which Hughes composed the libretto in 1937, was based on Hughes’s own play, “The Emperor of Haiti.” “The Barrier,” based on an earlier Hughes play from 1937, had its premiere as an opera in 1950.

In 2002, another unknown Hughes opera was discovered; a 35-minute blues opera called “De Organizer” was found in the papers of Eva Jessye, the musical’s original choral director. The lyrics are simple and straightforward, honestly communicating the hopes of a group of sharecroppers for a better future.

Hughes never lost sight of his connection to the people of Harlem, or to those musical rhythms that would characterize his work. He once said, “I tried to write poems like the songs they sang on Seventh Street… (these songs) had the pulse beat of the people who keep on going.”

“And far into the night he crooned that tune.
The stars went out and so did the moon.
The singer stopped playing and went to bed
While the Weary Blues echoed through his head.
He slept like a rock or a man that’s dead.”
–The Weary Blues

“Pick UP Your Pencils, Begin” is Berman’s first foray into the world of pencil art but, like all of Berman’s work, it is as much a piece of art as it is a piece of social commentary. In this case, Berman is making a commentary on the current state of our K-12 school system. In our brief interview, Harriete described her dissatisfaction with the current K-12 system and the inspiration behind her latest piece:

“This sculpture and another previous artwork about education titled “Measuring Compliance” were both inspired by my experiences as a parent with the current K-12 educational system designed primarily for the success of the conforming student.

Despite the stated goals of education to teach problem solving, most teachers apply one teaching methodology to all students. We know that people learn in different ways, and that there are multiple levels of intelligence, yet the current academic focus is for everyone to do the same assignment the same way.

We measure student performance, teacher performance and school performance with standardized tests that only measure a few levels of performance (including how well people take tests.)”

The sculpture itself is a bell curve composed of wood-cased pencils woven together in a sort of tapestry. While describing her creative process, Harriete described the process she used while creating the bell curve as “a lot like weaving with pencils,” and the result has a very similar visual effect.

The pencil has obvious connections to our K-12 school system and standardized testing, but Harriete also recognized its status as a metaphor for the creative process. “[P]encils are a very powerful metaphor. Pencils are a very creative medium. It naturally allows for problem solving, creativity, the freedom to make mistakes, erase, and try again.”

“Pick UP Your Pencils, Begin” will have its first public exhibition at the Anita Seipp Gallery at the Castilleja School in Palo Alto, CA. The sculpture was photographed in the same location for an article in American Craft magazine, which can be read here. The full details for the event are as follows:

EXHIBITION DATES: March 5, 2012 till March 30, 2012

LOCATION: Anita Seipp Gallery
Castilleja School
1310 Bryant Street
Palo Alto, CA 94301

Gallery Hours:  10:00 a.m. – 3:00 p.m.
Monday through Friday and by appointment

Public Reception: Thursday, March 22, 2012 6-8 p.m. 

If you want to see more of Harriete’s work, you can check out her website here. She is currently working on a video about “Pick UP Your Pencils, Begin” and the commentary behind the piece. For more information about the video, check out her website’s “Pencil Page” here.

What do you think pencileers? Can you spot any of your favorite pencils in the curve? Let us know what you think in the comments section!

If in five minutes your listener hasn’t started sniffling and tearing up, you may be assured that you are talking to a robot. And if you aren’t sniffling yourself…perhaps it’s time for an oil change?

A.A. Milne, creator of Winnie the Pooh, Piglet, and all of the loveable inhabitants of the One Hundred Acre Wood, was born Alan Alexander Milne on this day in 1882. Though Milne was an accomplished novelist and playwright, he is best remembered for the children’s stories he wrote for his son Christopher.

But, while the text of Milne’s work is certainly important (I get misty-eyed every time Piglet says, “I just wanted to be sure of you”), the illustrations were equally integral in forming our views of the silly old bear. Illustrator Ernest H. Shepard was Milne’s colleague at British magazine “Punch,” and it was Shepard who provided all of the illustrations for Milne’s original stories.

There’s little resemblance between Shepard’s Pooh and the red-shirted Disney version of the same character, though both versions of Piglet maintain the character’s striped torso. There is a quiet, thoughtful charm to Shepard’s version that forever set the tone for the whimsical world of Milne’s Pooh Corner, one that is missing from Disney’s mass produced images (and don’t start the Milne purists on the Disney versions, whatever you do; words like “tacky” and “abomination” get tossed about like autumn leaves on a very blustery day).

For many years it was thought that all of Shepard’s sketches of Winnie the Pooh and company had been archived by the Shepard family estate, however a new sketch was recently unearthed in England. Done in 1954, the sketch was intended as a thank-you note to actor Peter Bromilow and features heretofore unknown images of Pooh and Piglet. The sketch, done in pen and ink, will go on the auction block at the National Fine Art and Antiques Fair in just a few days and is expected to fetch upwards of £20,000 (roughly $30,818 in US Dollars).

Both Milne and Shepard are reported to have had conflicted relationships with their creations later in their respective lives. Both men believed that in their Winnie-the-Pooh creations in some way hindered them creatively, and negated the rest of their artistic achievements. However, those creations that theoretically hindered them also means that their names will never be forgotten. Those who hear the names of A.A. Milne and Ernest Shepard will be immediately transported to a kinder, gentler place that celebrates love, friendship, honesty and loyalty. In the grand scheme of things, that’s not a bad legacy to leave.

Do tell, Pencilheads – do you have a favorite Winnie-the-Pooh quote or story? Have anything to add on the Milne vs. Disney debate? Fancy a game of Poohsticks? Join us in the Hundred Acre Comment section below!

Image Credit: Frenzy/Stock.Xchng

Paul’s drawings are done in the hyperrealistic style, a style that emphasizes the details of the subject in an effort to bring out some greater truth about that subject. Paul’s subjects range from people and cityscapes to still lifes and, true to his style, each drawing contains an astounding amount of detail. It’s what Paul seeks to do with this detail, however, that caught our attention.

Paul bases each drawing off of a photograph or video still and seeks to create something new with graphite and paper. According to Paul, his drawings are “not strict interpretations of photographs, nor are they literal illustrations of a particular scene or subject.” Instead, they are “meticulously detailed to create the illusion of a new reality not seen in the original photo.” and “Intensify the normal.”

Every detail, from the wrinkles of a person’s face to the motion blur caused by a turning head, is accounted for. The result is not a simple reproduction of an image, but something entirely different. What that something is, is up for debate.

If you want to see more of Paul’s work, you can check out his website here.

What do you think Studio 602 readers? What are the intangibles in Paul’s drawings? Let us know in the comments below!

1. Personalized Gifts

The holiday season may be over, but birthdays are never far off. Instead of a worn out gift that they’ve seen a thousand times, give them a personalized pencil set that reminds them how much you care (and how much older they are than you!).

2. Album, Book or Movie Releases

If you’re a musician trying to promote a new album, custom imprint pencils give you the ability to promote it and sell merchandise at the same time. Same goes for authors or film directors. No one expects to see a custom pencil at a musician’s merch table… and that’s exactly why it’s a perfect fit.

3. Show School Spirit

Smells like… pencils? Hand custom pencils with your school’s colors and slogan out at your next rally or turn heads in math class with a set of custom pencils that show your school spirit. You might even be able to get some extra credit along the way!

4. Identification Around the Office

Do your pencils always seem to find their way off your desk and into the hands of your coworkers? With custom pencils, you’ll be able to identify the culprit right away, so you can spend your time getting things done instead of interrogating suspects.

5. Advertising

Sure, you could shell out the big bucks for a billboard or local television commercial slot, but sometimes the little things can be just as effective. Custom pencils with your company’s logo or name allow you to get your brand directly into the hands of consumers.

6. Favorite teams

Show some team spirit! Whether you want to promote your local little league squad or your company softball team, custom pencils can be customized to match any teams color scheme and let you show your support in style: with a pencil.

7. Business cards

Next time, instead of handing out a business card, how about handing out a business pencil? The concept is the same, but instead of a disposable piece of paper that will most likely wind up in the trash, you are giving them tool that they can use and are, therefore, less likely to toss out.

8. Save the date

If you are planning a birthday party, wedding, baby shower or some other social gathering, you want to make sure that your guests save the date. A custom pencil with the date printed on its shaft will serve a constant reminder of the event and make a bigger impact than an invitation stuck up on the fridge.

9. Announcements

Whether you’re expecting a baby, or your baby is all grown up and graduating from college, custom imprint pencils let you share the important events in your life in a special way and help make the announcement just as memorable as the event it precedes.

10. Super Bowl Party Favors

The Super Bowl is right around the corner, and that means one thing: Super Bowl parties. Instead of using the party favors left over from Christmas and New Year’s, print some custom pencils for both teams and hold your own pencil grudge match!

There you have it, ten ways you can use custom imprint pencils in your everyday life. And, to make it easier for you to try out some of these custom imprint ideas, we’re taking 20% off all of our custom imprint pencils for the entire month of January. Just use the coupon code “JANUARY” during checkout and get to customizing! And stay tuned to Studio 602 for information about our new private Palomino label pencils!

Actress Michelle Williams was awarded Best Actress in a Motion Picture – Musical or Comedy for her incandescent turn as Marilyn Monroe in “My Week with Marilyn.” While Williams has been capturing audience’s hearts since her early days on “Dawson’s Creek,” we at Studio 602 were endeared to the actress when we read her profile in the October 2011 issue of US Vogue Magazine.

Early into the article, Williams happened to mention her penchant for, among other things, the original Eberhard-Faber Blackwing pencils. According to interviewer Adam Green:

“She gestures with small, slim, expressive hands as the conversation ranges from her affinity for dresses from the 1930s and long-discontinued Eberhard Faber Blackwing 602 pencils (‘I love things that are old and beautiful and tell a story, even if it’s a sad one’) to the novels of Vladimir Nabokov, whose notoriously complex Ada is a favorite. ‘I think Nabokov once said that genius is finding the invisible link between things,” she tells me. “And that’s how I choose to see life. Everything’s connected, and everything has meaning if you look for it.’”

As Williams observes, everything is connected after all. Nabokov, whose works Williams admires, was also a devotee of the original Blackwing pencil. When adapting his notorious novella “Lolita” for the screen, Nabokov would meticulously transcribe his notes and new scenes onto lined index card, using a sharpened Blackwing pencil. Blackwings even make appearances in some of Nabokov’s works, most notably in “Look at the Harlequins!”

The Blackwing links Williams and Nabokov, and it links us to them as well. The Blackwing was revived in order to continue its legacy of artistic and creative excellence, which lives on in the pages of Nabokov’s novels and in the memories of enthusiasts like Williams. It’s something old, something beautiful, and it definitely tells a story, though we would like to think it’s one with a happy ending.

Congratulations to Michelle Williams, and should she ever need something for marking a script or penning a letter, we know just the thing for the job.

Mark’s blog, Edingburgh Sketcher, is dedicated to Mark’s daily sketches; every day, Mark creates a new sketch featuring something from his day and posts it on his blog. From Cadbury eggs to stovetop cooking, you can expect to find almost anything as the subject of one of his daily works. Mark does an excellent job of mixing things up, making every day a surprise for his readers in the process.

We recently issued a challenge to our Twitter followers to start creating a sketch for each day of the week. We can’t wait to see what some of you come up with and, if it’s anything like what Mark is doing on his blog, we’re in for a real treat. If you haven’t accepted the challenge yet, what are you waiting for? Show us a snapshot of your day in graphite, and maybe you’ll see yourself here as our Pencil Artist of the week!

Comics. The word itself conjures up images of superheroes and sidekicks, spandex costumes and supervillains but, in reality, comic books actually represent a very unique medium that has the ability to combine storytelling with written words and storytelling with still images. And, thanks to the talents of the artists and writers both past and present working in the comic industry, comic books are still seeing success in today’s technologically driven society.

Amidst this body of artists, however, few have the ability to say “I did it my way” like Sal Abbinanti.

Growing up on the north side of Chicago, Sal didn’t always know that he wanted to be a comic artist but, like most kids, he was instantly drawn to the medium. He started buying comics from his local drug store at the age of eight (“They were on spin racks in those days.”) and his first comic was a copy of Thor #206. 

Sal attended the Art Institute of Chicago before transferring to USC to study animation. It was here that he received the formal training that would help him launch his career as a comic artist, but, first, he would have to overcome his own self-doubt. “I didn’t think I could make it in comics,” Sal revealed. So, he did what any good self-doubting art student does… he went into advertising.

The advertising industry was never the right fit for Sal. There, he drew storyboards day in and day out until, one day, he had had enough. “It was really draining on the soul to draw the same thing day after day for products that often never saw the light of day.” It was then that he decided to ignore the naysayers, including himself, and pursue a career as a comic book artist.

After working on a number of freelance projects for Marvel and DC, Sal decided to independently publish a comic of his own. “I decided to put my money where my mouth was and produce my own book.” The result was Atomika, a book that Sal worked on with writer and collaborator Andrew Dabb and published under his own label, Mercury Comics.

When asked to describe the book and its title character, Sal revealed that, though the subjects the book tackles are heavy, the book itself is not. “Atomika is the God of the 20th century. He represents how technology has replaced religion completely for many people today. [The comic] is set in the Soviet Union in the 1950′s when Stalin outlawed all religion, deeming it counter productive to the state. Atomika is now doing battle with the dying mythological Gods of Russia. It sounds heavy, but its not. Not a political or religious book at all.”

What it is, however, is a comic that Sal holds very dear to his heart. “Atomika has been by far the most rewarding project of my life.”

The title given to Sal and other artists working in the comic industry is “penciler,” a title that Sal revealed is a fitting one. “Computers, Wacom tablets, Photo shop, all those are great tools with comics but it still begins with the pencil. The pencil is the most important tool of any artist. Technology will never replace the feel of a great pencil in an artists hand.”

And what’s his favorite pencil? “Definitely HB. Palomino HB; the slick red and blue surfaces make me feel like Picasso.” But, watch out Palomino HB, there’s a new pencil in town after Sal’s heart. “I just recently discovered the Palomino Blackwing series with the big fat erasers. Great pencil with a firm wood that holds the lead when sharpened a ton.”

Sal’s art style is raw and, at times, a bit abstract, and that’s just the way he likes it. “I created Atomika because Marvel and DC kept telling me my style was a bit too raw for what they were looking for.” Though he’s inspired by the likes of Jack Kirby and John Buscema, Sal doesn’t necessarily think his art or the art of other comic artists should follow in their footsteps. “Way to much art in comics right now that looks like other artists. How many more Jim Lee and Adam Hughes clones do we really need? I prefer comics that stem from the imagination and push or distort the medium.”

Instead of drawing his inspiration directly from other artists, Sal draws inspiration from other creative mediums. “I study a lot of film to help with the visual story telling ideas of comics… Music scores from films inspire me a lot when I draw. [Even] reading the newspaper – tons of ideas from basic stories are right there in black and white every day. ” The result is a creative process that pushes the limits of comic book art and gives Sal the creative outlet he could not find in advertising, or even at Marvel or DC. “In the end, as an artist, you have to find that creative outlet or you die inside.”

If you would like to see more of Sal’s artwork, including his daily sketches, you can check out his blog here. If you want to find out more about Mercury Comics and Atomika, including purchasing and ordering information, you can check out the Mercury Comics website here.