At 24, bones still wet with dew from the dawn of adulthood, I took an adventure.
And by adventure, I mean vacation. For the price of a month’s rent in Boston, I had purchased the illusion of adventure, bookended by cushy, leather airline seats and documented by a camera with more horsepower than the Apollo missions. My destination? Iceland.
My senior year of high school, I got really into ambigrams and I would sketch them during classes. I loved the creativity required to make something read legibly both right-side-up and up-side-down. Though I’ve lost most of them, I found the below sketch years later and thought I’d scan it for posterity.