Helvetica. Junk Mail. Witchcraft.
I can recall my first exposure to a PC, which was early on due to my father's early buy in to the market. It was this indoctrination of regimented syntax and structure (DOS) that provided the groundwork for what has evolved towards an intuitive understanding of the majority of systems I've worked with. Now, many years later, it is only fair that I take up the yoke of reciprocation and return the favor by mentoring the same man that made my infatuation with tech possible.
It hasn't been easy.
Specific processes rooted in detail are one thing, more subjective ones another. Our latest accomplishment is a functional grasp of Gmail Filters, a mix of the two. With the time spent pouring over hundreds of previously unarchived correspondence it didn't take long for the issue of "junk mail" to come up. My father was perplexed, couldn't we just make a filter? He knew that Gmail's built in spam filter was chugging away but a lot of "junk" was still getting through. At the risk of stereotyping the majority of his correspondents as inept adult users I started to outline the criteria I use in my own account, quickly discovering that while both our desired end states matched we were dealing with vastly differing subject groups.
It was at this point we ventured in to the realm of the undefinable, that subconscious rhythm an email can have which immediately sets off sirens. Sure, he knew to look for the tell tale signs of chained FW: in the subject line or rotating GIFs but ultimately it came down to my reliance on "you just know" which was as far from the answer he wanted to hear as the one I wanted to give.
That indefinable rhythm has been bothering me ever since, mostly due to the inability to escape it.
In the quest for understanding I came across one of the many stream-able documentaries via Netflix, Helvetica, in which a few movers and shakers from the design world draw a line in the sand and state their unabashed affection or justified disgust for the omnipresent typeface. The film is fascinating for a number of reasons, among which are the attempts to describe that indefinable quality Helvetica encapsulates. While many of these descriptions were eloquent I was struck by the near magical quality that each speaker was trying to translate, as if some sort of divine proportion was harnessed and somehow superseded simplification. The ability of a viewer to be "affected without being aware" is the stuff of science fiction and, conversely, the effects of unnatural angles or proportions something straight out of Lovecraft. These practices are the tricks to good design? It seems more like witchcraft.
While only indirectly related to my attempt at defining the quasi-valid junk mail my father was receiving, the film soothed the restless itch that had previously vexed. Yes, there are plenty of theories that quantify the otherwise subjective qualities proven successful in design, such as the Golden Ratio or Rule of Thirds, but even experts in design reach for clarity with seemingly unrelated comparisons.
Neither my father or I have that penchant for design, the ingrained talent to manipulate proportions or break down that indescribable rhythm. He'll continue to sift through emails of questionable validity while I practice Voice in my spare time.
Next up is Tagging.
I don't think I'm ready.
