“In order to capture some of the disappearing history in the graphic design industry in Manitoba, with the support of GDC Manitoba, we decided to create a podcast series where we could interview many of the designers who have shaped the design landscape in Winnipeg and beyond. It was decided to keep it simple – conduct interviews with individuals with a set list of questions to capture their thoughts and reflections that might inspire others, and then post the interviews as podcasts. The series is called Out of the Studio (Oots) and new interviews and designer profiles will be added every couple of weeks. Enjoy the podcast series, there is much to be celebrated with Canadian graphic design!”
Listen to the interview here.
(thanks, Brígida Santana)
The time will soon be here when my grandchild will long for the cry of a loon, the flash of a salmon, the whisper of spruce needles, or the screech of an eagle. But he will not make friends with any of these creatures and when his heart aches with longing, he will curse me.
—Chief Dan George, Tsleil-Waututh Nation (1899-1981)
—Henry David Thoreau (attributed to… but perhaps dodgy).
“I am a battery hen. I live in a cage so small I cannot stretch my wings. I am forced to stand night and day on a sloping wire mesh floor that painfully cuts into my feet. The cage walls tear my feathers, forming blood blisters that never heal. The air is so full of ammonia that my lungs hurt and my eyes burn and I think I am going blind. As soon as I was born, a man grabbed me and sheared off part of my beak with a hot iron, and my little brothers were thrown into trash bags as useless alive.”
“My mind is alert and my body is sensitive and I should have been richly feathered. In nature or even a farmyard I would have had sociable, cleansing dust baths with my flock mates, a need so strong that I perform ‘vacuum’ dust bathing on the wire floor of my cage. Free, I would have ranged my ancestral jungles and fields with my mates, devouring plants, earthworms, and insects from sunrise to dusk. I would have exercised my body and expressed my nature, and I would have given, and received, pleasure as a whole being. I am only a year old, but I am already a ‘spent hen.’ Humans, I wish I were dead, and soon I will be dead. Look for pieces of my wounded flesh wherever chicken pies and soups are sold.”
―Karen Davis
(Thanks to Chaz Maviyane-Davies for the poster).
