An Original, an Homage

A typeface, to quote Matthew Carter, is “a beautiful collection of letters, not a collection of beautiful letters,” which is to say, however many stylistic quirks a typeface might have, all characters work seamlessly together for the sake of the whole. Similarly, the design of a typeface, ideally, is a harmonious melding of sometimes quite disparate influences. A typeface design might be informed by its time, by the cultural and sociopolitical environment into which it is born, by the designs it references, and, of course, by the distinct hand of its designer. And the result, done right, is something wholly unique. At its core, however, it is much more than one thing. It’s an original, but it’s also an homage.

Likewise, a person is a beautiful collection of influences. I am the product of my family and my upbringing, my values and interests, my heritage, and the communities of which I am a part. I’m well aware that I don’t exist in a vacuum. I’m not who I am without my ancestors who walked the Trail of Tears, without my church upbringing and my punk rock adolescence, without Calvin & Hobbes. My values and my humor and my way of seeing the world come from my parents and grandparents, my brothers and friends, my wife and daughter. I’m an amalgam of many disparate influences, a punk rock, Cherokee, type nerd dad, an original but also an homage.

As a typeface designer, I strive to honor all of these influences. That is especially evident in my commitment to the Cherokee syllabary, which I include in every typeface I design. I do this as a way to reclaim a language that my family hasn’t spoken fluently since my great-grandparents’ generation, a language that was taken from us. I do this to support ongoing language revitalization efforts and to help bring greater stylistic diversity to Cherokee type. But I also do this because it feels natural, in the same way that the letters I draw have a “friendly bounce,” owing to all the time I spent drawing cartoons as a kid. If there’s a certain aversion to mainstream sensibilities in my work, blame Fugazi. The things that make me are naturally expressed in the things that I make—a harmonious melding of disparate influences that form a singular artistic viewpoint.

On the surface, one of my designs might seem to be just a quirky typeface for children’s books. Dig deeper, though, and you’ll find it’s a mix of motivations and influences, from my daughter to a specimen book from my shelf, from a goal to aid in Cherokee language learning to a pure desire to make something fun. No typeface is only one thing, just as no person is only one thing. Each one of us is a beautiful, wholly unique blend of the people who invested in us and the environment that formed us, an echo of the ones who came before us and a response to the things we see around us, an original but also an homage.