Your Daily Awesome

William Drenttel at Design Observer posted a very interesting article a while back about a phenomenon he encountered while designing the packaging for the (excellent) soundtrack to the (very good) film Searching for the Wrong-Eyed Jesus. Drenttel—a New Englander—became fascinated with religious signage in the South during his research for this project, and has assembled lots of thoughts, references, links, and photos on the topic here. The article also has mp3s from Jim White, one of my favorite musicians of all time, quotes from the movie by Harry Crews, and generally a lot of amazement about this method of ministry that I took for granted growing up in the deep South. I think it’s totally worth a read.

I love the small town. It’s not even a half-mile across the whole town. Very small. This way over here we have the church. Over here we have a truck stop. Over here we have the juke joint. Back behind me we have the prison. It’s your typical Southern town. Some people go to church. Some don’t. It’s just one of those small towns.
— The Mayor, Ferriday, Louisiana in “Searching for the Wrong-Eyed Jesus”

Andrew Douglas refers to this north-south-east-west geography as the “Stations of the Cross.” At every “station,” though, is a sign, a plaque, a statue, a monument signifying faith. Jesus’s name is invoked in the landscape to name beauty salons, to say this homeowner is a believer, and to give direction to non-believers. The typography of the used-car lot — Car Lot Gothic, if you will — is frequently encountered, as is the multi-colored calligraphy of the amateur sign. The typography of faith in the South has its own look, distinct from the “Stop the Plant” signs in my part of the country. In the South, it’s not enough to name things: there is always a message, a sermon, a small bit of poetry.