My studio in the National Transit Building is over 100 years old with lots of oak woodwork and a well-worn door that looks like it should be to the office of a private eye.
Having more or less caught up with my deadlines, I took a little time to finally put my name and studio number on the window. I chose some old typefaces that looked appropriate—from some type catalogues that I have and from internet sources. I created the words on my computer and printed them out big enough to fill the space on the door.
Then I taped the printout to a piece of black Contact paper and cut the letters out with a razor blade. I taped the entire mess to the window and carefully peeled the backing off each letter. I left the printout taped to the window so I could stick the letter back where it’s supposed to be—like a puzzle piece.
Now the door’s ready for some dame to walk through it asking me to find her missing sister…
Isn’t Guy Noir in 28?
…and the Continental Op is down the hall!
Sweet! Is that a mail slot just below the window? It’s probably just big enough for the barrel of a snub-nose 38.
Next: A photo of you at your drawing board wearing a fedora, with one of those old 1940’s Bakelite telephones and a copy of the Maltese falcon – the bird, not the book – on the desk beside you. “Art Noir.” I’m liking this.