#268: New Haven Gothic

New Haven, CT

In an urban universe full of readymade stick-on numbers, ugly mass-produced awnings, and just plain lazy-ass labels, it's always refreshing to see a good homemade number. In this case, I'm a big fan of these idiosyncratic, pseudo-Gothic and yet very personable gold numbers on a house in New Haven.

#274: Montréal Streetscape

The Plateau, Montréal

Two and half years ago, after convincing the Border Patrol that my novel-writing did not pose a threat to the Canadian labor market ("With all due respect, sir," I told the man with the badge, "it poses no threat to any market.") I took the summer off to live and write in Montréal. I pounded away at my laptop in grilled cheese cafés, went for long walks on Mont Royal, ice skated four days a week in a shopping mall, and spoke the language so poorly that I was actually heckled from a balcony by an elderly Québecois couple. So much for improving my French.

But I fell in love with the city, especially the streets of the Plateau. Though I slept in a tiny windowless room, my friend's place had a balcony overlooking the garden, and from the balcony I would sit with my morning coffee and watch the morning glories open and turn toward the sun, plotting my day's work, always leaving time for wandering.

This spray-painted #274 captures something of the spirit of a Montréal streetscape: it manages to be off-the-cuff and carefully crafted at the same time. Then there's that 7. Readers still are up on the air on what we should call the the slash through the middle (See the great "The Snick vs. the Euroslash" debate), but I do know the sight of it always puts a twinkle in my plain ol' U.S.A. eyes.

#276: I Swear I Saw This

Chelsea, NYC

Right. So I pretty much the entire reason I started up the number line again was so I could brag about this absolute beauty, a graphic white #276 on a toothy blue circle saw. I'm always on the lookout for hand-lettered type in the city, and this one is both attentive to detail and quirky. There are still scores of great hand-painted hardware and lumber signs around New York, though you usually have to travel off the main drag to spot them. Here's a look at some of the rest of the sign:

The whole look is idiosyncratic yet carefully crafted. I love the faint gray shadow around the lettering and the fact that the spiked back of the saw almost makes it look like a porcupine. An &7 favorite to be sure. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

#279: Seven/Zed

Carroll Gardens, Brooklyn

#280: On the Grid

East Village, NYC

#283: Shady Characters

North Circular Road, Dublin

#284: Jewel in the Claw

Red Hook, Brooklyn

284 Van Brunt Street is not only home to today's catch, it's also home to the Red Hook Lobster Pound, a place I like to call the jewel in my neighborhood's claw. Temporarily closed, the Pound's shutters are expected to roll up on April 1st, and you'd better believe there'll be no April foolin' once they do. A bike ride, a lobster roll, and a good book on Valentino Pier is the surefire first sign of spring. I can taste it already.

#285: Bespoked

Vinegar Hill, Brooklyn

Like yesterday's #286, this three-digit span belongs to a longer sequence of numbers, chopped off for the sake of convenience (and leaving me with the nagging feeling like I'm somehow cutting corners by, well, cutting corners). But the framing of the 285 inside of the bicycle wheel makes this one's charm pretty irresistible.

#286: Portlandia

Portland, OR

This is an oldie but goodie from the collection, gathered on the road with Balthrop, Alabama a few summers ago. Of course, to make this true to its Portlandia title, I feel like I'd have to add something to this image, something that's . . . missing. I know! Put a bird on it!

#287: Dublin Numbers & Gorse No. 3

North Circular Road, Dublin

There's something very satisfying about tracing the long arc of the North Circular Road. Cycling along it, you can fall into a comforting rhythm, almost like you're following a massive Olympic track. Walking, I always feel more at a remove from my surroundings, though these numbers hand-painted onto the low walls give me a sense I'm making some sort of progress. In shape and size, the black numbers on white remind me quite a bit of the curbside numbering of my hometown streets growing up. The steady presence of these numbers provides a way of orienting myself to the street, and the small variations that come with each hand-painted marker lend each one its own personality.

Until I find a way to make wandering the streets of Dublin my full-time occupation -- and believe me, I'm working on it -- I've got to settle for these small projects: collecting numbers, drawing maps, and scribbling what I see. It's an obsession that's been with me for years, and I'm happy to say that an essay I wrote, "A Writer's Guide to the Dialectical Landscapes of Dublin," is going to be published this month in gorse journal, issue no. 3. You can read a very short excerpt of the essay now, and though the issue is officially being published on March 23rd, you can pre-order copies of the journal. It's as stunning a book as you could want: attractive, compact, and brimming with sharp, beautiful new writing from Ireland and outside: essays, fiction, poetry, and interviews. I'm honored to be included in the illustrious bunch.

Here's a sneak preview of the cover, designed by the talented Niall McCormack.

#289: Budapest Skull Fest!

Széchenyi Chain Bridge, Budapest

Because nothing quite warms the heart like a cute skull stencil -- not to mention a cute skull stencil spray-painted on a Hungarian bridge. I've linked to this site once before, but I was delighted to learn that the skullifically adorable Skull-A-Day site is still in operation. So if this little guy captures your heart, you'll find more of the same there. Not to mention skull wallpaper, skull vintage vacuum tubes, and "Pancake Love Skulls." You're welcome.

#290: Red Hook Pastoral

Red Hook, Brooklyn

A glimpse of bright barn-red color and a bit of asymmetry to keep things interesting. The perfect antidote for an overcast March day.

#301: Beware Dogs

Upper West Side, NYC

Thanks to what seems to be a customary lackadaisical attitude toward punctuation on local signs, it's unclear if this warning is telling me to beware of dogs or if it's telling the dogs to beware. Or perhaps it is announcing an interesting new type of dog: the beware dogs. Whatever the case may be, I'm glad it has at least committed to the notion of dog and not the more mysterious "dog," as has been woefully suggested elsewhere. You've got to start somewhere, right?

#302: A.I.R. BLDG

Gowanus, Brooklyn

Not really sure what the A.I.R. is all A.B.O.U.T., but the hand lettering on this sign is pretty good-looking.

#326: Chicago Ghost Sign

Chicago, IL

I didn't snap nearly enough of these faded ads last time I was skulking about the south side. The fun bit about working with ghost signs is that if you can't read what the numbers are, you can draw your own conclusions. Is that third number after "PHONE" a 6 or an 8? Chicago phone numbers have both the 326 and 328 exchange, so it could be either. But since I needed a new 326 for today, I'm gonna go out on a limb and stick with 6.

#332: Shadowplay

Red Hook, Brooklyn

#340: Service & Delivery

Upper West Side, NYC

A hand-drawn ampersand AND a weird amorphous finger pointing the way to an otherwise forgettable service & delivery entrance? Like it.

#344: Red in Venice

Venice, Italy

Ever since watching the epically freaky film "Don't Look Now," I can never see the color red in Venice in the same way again.

#345: DUMBO Darling

DUMBO, Brooklyn

It doesn't matter how many times I wander through DUMBO, I always manage to find some new cool stencil lurking on an unsuspecting wall to make me grin. This delicious 345 has all the hallmarks of an &7 darling: stark paint, hint of decay, well-crafted numbers (I'm a sucker for a sharpie 3), and a quirky touch with the dots between the numbers. A+.

#351: Dumpster Diving

Cobble Hill, Brooklyn