What I'd Say

A poem with Ray Charles and a sticky summer-like morning

May 13, 2023

Written May 13, 2022.

What I’d Say

Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when published

The chandelier was rocking slowly,
when I awoke to make coffee.

At first glance,

it was just a summer morning.
The kitchen was sticky,
counters greasy

from the air.

Last night’s cooking
drove the shadow beetles
away from the periphery.

Ray Charles’

What I’d Say played
on loop
in the humidity.

A newsletter recommendation from a reader or listener can be impactful. If you enjoy what you read, please take a few seconds to let Substack know.

Today’s writing

Sometimes you hear a song and it takes you immediately to a different place. I grew up near Charleston, South Carolina. The humidity is legendary there. You might have heard the phrase, “I walked outside and started sweating” from a Southerner. Our mornings involved two showers. One before going outside, and the next, upon hitting the morning air. I can’t even imagine what it must have been like for people before the wonders of air conditioning.

The old houses there seem built for air more than for people. To allow the people within them space to cool. And to breathe. Or maybe it was because the folks building them needed more space while doing so. As if making high ceilings, giant windows, and open spaces had any chance of removing the moisture in the Southern air.

Either way, Ray Charles grew up in the South too. I wonder if he was even more sensitive to space than those of us that aren’t blind. How did an open space feel to him? A high ceiling? Could he hear the humidity growing up? Did a humid day smell different? Did he transfer this feeling into his music? The way he played the piano?

When was the last time a song took you to a different place or time? Where were you? Where did the song take you?

Typaphobe is a reader supported publication. Any and all support goes towards me being able to make typaphobe all day, every day.

Today’s art

From April 10 to May 15, I’ll be sharing my work on a project entitled 36 Days of Type.

I will be basing my alphabet on the work of Koloman Moser, of Vienna Secession fame in honor of my alma mater, the Savannah College of Art and Design. Each year, the design department did a show of the best student work in homage to the artists that ‘seceded’ from Vienna’s Academy in the late 1800s and early 1900s. Some of the artists who became secessionists were Gustav Klimt and Egon Schiele, now household names.

“2023 Edition of 36 Days of Type is finally here! From April 10 to May 15, every designer, illustrator or artist is invited to share their own creative take on the letters and numbers from the Latin alphabet and share it with the world, as a global and simultaneous act of creativity exploring the boundaries of typography.” —from the 36 Days of Type website

When the 36 days are over, I’ll go back to being an editorial illustrator 2022’s works. Thanks for following along with me. If you’re on instagram, you can follow my work here. And you can follow what I’m sure will be an awesome curation of the best work from this project at 36 Days of Type. Maybe a few of mine will make it there too!

I’m also going to include quotes from designers, letterers, and fellow graphic nerds as often as possible. There’s some witty ones in this world, so this should be fun to share. If you have a favorite designer or artist, I’d love to hear your favorite quote in the comments section. I always find it fascinating to hear which quotes stay with us along our independent journeys.

Please feel free to comment on any post!

Like a graphic, hate a poem, feel some of my commentary is bizarre, or out of context? Do you want a print of one of the art pieces? Do you know a publisher who might enjoy one of my poems? Do you know something I don’t?

If you can’t tell, I love questions at typaphobe. So, ask away! Discussion will only make the publication better, so I look forward to hearing from you.

Discussion about this post

Ready for more?