What I liked most about the collection of works belonging to Wim Crouwel was a set of posters, specifically one with neon pink stood out above the rest for me. I don’t know if it’s my endless fascination with neon strip-club signs or just the fact that it was so pink that my eyes were caught like a deer in the headlight of his age old enemy; a half-drunk trucker with nothing to loose.
The poster was so intense I didn’t even like it at first. My initial reaction was to cover my eyes, flinch, drop to the ground in fear of radiation poisoning.
The brightness and pinkness of it all was just too much.
But as one who stares at the sun and grows accustomed to the burn, so did I.
A brief description; rectangular, neon and a tear right across the half with what appears to be an E in between the pink and some other background color that I couldn’t really see because I was still a little blinded.
It could be that the poster attracted my attention because of this E, however this is not the time to go into my introduction on the meaning of letters and words.
That I will save for another time.
After my eyes could rest on this poster I wondered, since Mr. Crouwel worked so much with squares if he was one himself.
I remain neutral.
I believe (or at least hope) Wim and I share the fascination of late-night stops for scotch whiskey at the 24 store around the corner or of gentleman’s clubs, where one can ease into a more sophomoric bliss without the fear of a lawsuit.
Thank you Wim, for making me feel less alone in this world of men who wear business suits and women on heels while I walk around with holes in my shoes and dirty clothing.
But enough about me, let’s talk about Mr. Crouwel.
It appears he was really on to something (maybe on something too, but I leave that open for discussion), having invented the pixel and all, I’d say he was a real genius. An entrepreneur, as the Irish say.
This drink’s for you Wim, salud.