CHRIS JOHNSON
communications specialist
RESPITE
When I first encountered this tight little packet of housing icons I used to quickly put out notice about a one-off webinar a housing ally was hosting in the winter of 2022, I knew I wasn't quite done with them. The definitions of safety, home, comfort, and respite are immediately challenged just by the scale of the images: How can a tee-pee be compared to a three-story brick building? Here's one way.
Graphic designers can see with child-like vision because, I believe, they can see with almost pure emotional clarity—at least the great ones. They know that to a child living in any of these, each is "home." So, too, might a cardboard box or Double McMansion with Eaves be "home."
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I do not claim to be a great graphic designer, or a graphic designer at all. I'm a trained designer who can sometimes manipulate the principles and elements of design to achieve impacts that complement (or in a few very best cases, substitute for) verbal storytelling, which is something I am very skilled at. And typically, that message is for a very limited audience—I know all the faces in these seats.
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Every once in a while the stars align and a new set of shapes, colors and typeface align themselves in a way that carry me through a number of projects that might not appear connected at all, but—at least in this world of mental health—it is all connected. Any approach that isn't holistic (in its foundation, if not it its approach) is almost certain to fail.
So a special one-off housing webinar incorporated elements from the series (above) as did a community development webinar series (below).
The first "teaser" graphic from before we knew the actual dates.
The "formal announcement" graphic that lived on the website.
The printer-friendly schedule sent to potential attendees.
The single-date reminder posted to social media.
Each was unique in its own small way, but ultimately it was how they were connected that intrigued me then and continues to interest me now.