Those of you regular readers with a keen eye for detail may have noticed a rather frenetic fluctuation in design here. On the same evening that I learned about the death of Paul Raven, I fielded a short note from illustrator Matteo Pericoli (his is the illustration of Manhattan you see on the banner above), politely informing me that it sure would have been nice if I'd asked him first before appropriating his work for my own purposes. Feeling like a first class heel, I apologized profusely to Mr. Pericoli and immediately dismantled the banner, reverting back to this weblog's previous design.
As it happens, Mr. Pericoli is a very understanding man, and generously gave me permission to continue using his artwork. As such, I've since restored the banner and previous design template. I'd like to thank the artist one more time.
I too was the victim of an unsanctioned appropriation many years ago (albeit of a much less accomplished fashion). As a junior in college, I was rather routinely in the habit of drawing a particular design on just about any hard, clean, flat surface I could find. I didn't consider it a calling card or anything, but I thought it was distinctive and was fairly pleased with it at the time. In any event, as I was walking across campus one morning, I saw that same design of mine gracing six or seven t-shirts. It turned out, my roommate -- a member of a quasi-secretive off-campus fraternity whose initials I honestly don't remember -- decided to use my drawing as a t-shirt design to showcase the manly merits of said fraternity (figuring, I suppose, that I'd either never actually see it or wouldn't care). Well, Denison University wasn't an especially large school, so I started spotting them almost immediately. Later that day, I went from being incredulous to being livid, and vehemently read my roommate the riot act for his audacity. It should be noted that my roommate, Todd, was a football player, so he probably wasn't especially intimidated by my vein-popping display of outrage, but he did at least feel sorry for it. I didn't mind so much that he'd used it -- hell, I was flattered, if anything. I just would have preferred that he'd asked me first.
In any case, in the wake of that experience, you'd have thought I'd have been a bit wiser and more sensitive. Always ask first, kids. And don't forget to check out Mr. Pericoli's website.
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