I was just down in California last week, visiting family and friends for the traditional autumnal bird consumption ritual festival. It’s always a little weird going to California for me. I spent years being miserable there, trying to get out. I’m surprised how much I enjoy it, although that’s probably just because that’s where my family lives, as well as most of my friends.
The story of my moving to Seattle basically boils down to “I wanted to move here, so I did”. What I didn’t know is how quickly it would become my home. Seattle felt like home to me within six months, something that never entirely happened in my hometown. I feel a kinship with this place, despite its flaws, and whenever I return here, no matter how fun the trip was, I always feel a sense of unclenching, of being in a place where I belong.
This begins as soon as I get off the plane for one reason: fonts.
This was the view as I left my plane from San Jose at SeaTac Airport. The font on the sign up there is called Humnst 777. All the signage in the airport is in that font, which isn’t unusual, since all airports have some manner of unified typography. But the use of this font continues once you leave the airport and get onto the Link light rail. All the station signage is in this same font. So are the signs in bus stations across King County. In fact, I’d argue that this font is as much a symbol of Seattle and the larger Puget Sound as the Space Needle, Starbucks, and annoying tourists who refuse to drink any beer that doesn’t have enough hops in it to turn it green.
It’s funny how we create these signifiers of home within our minds. Maybe someone who doesn’t ride the Link every day like I do wouldn’t have such associations with this font. But for me, it’s just a reminder of the human element of good design.
~ Ian (listening to I Heard It’s A Mess There Too by Aesop Rock)