My dad took a new job for a sign company when I was a kid and we moved from Massachusetts to Connecticut. I had already lined up my Pokemon cards perfectly on the windowsills and the shelf in my new room, but it still didn't feel like my room yet. The new firm he worked for had the CVS/Pharmacy account and one day my dad brought me home a giant discarded letter A. The new A filling up my window made that new room my room. Alan's room. One of my earliest memories from the house that I'd eventually call home is the sun coming through that translucent red A and casting a red tint over my carpet while I tried to get all 120 stars in Mario 64.

Eventually the Nintendo 64 went to my brothers' room to make way for my brand new computer that I saved up my grocery store checks for and the Pokemon cards were sold to make room for high school graphic design projects. Community college started up and I traded my closet full of grocery store smocks for button-ups as I landed a part-time typesetting gig at the local printshop. The A stayed in the window.

I worked at the shop through college, and, when we acquired a wide format printer and die-cutter, I became the signage specialist there. Lo and behold, I learned how to design, print and produce vinyl signage. I still came home to the red tint of the A.

Eventually I graduated and started here at CTP at the tail-end of the rebrand. We had decided to go by CTP instead of Conover Tuttle Pace and the logo was finalized. Mark, our CD, sent out an email to everyone on the creative team asking if we had any connections that could forge some logos from steel. I was the newest member of the team, but my old college roommate happened to be a sculptor. Despite being a little nervous about sticking my neck out for a friend so early here, I recommended Barrett. I knew he was a great craftsman and welder and an even better guy. His last name happens to be Kern, too. Anyway, a month or so later, he delivered our awesome new signs. 

I grew up, started my career and moved on up in the world alongside my plastic A. The steel C T and P helped me connect with a new team.

Sure, you can find personal meaning behind pretty much any item. But the point of my stories of letters and signage is that they can mean a lot more than informational wayfinding. They can embody ideas, represent feelings and introduce emotions. Our new steel signs and letters represent our new agency. They represent our new ideologies. They represent our staff. They say, "Hey, we build things here. Ideas. Reputations. Brands. Stuff that lasts."

One more story. Last year I came across a giant tin magnetic D at TJ Maxx Homegoods and bought it for my mom for Christmas. She sticks things like family pictures, my little brother's acceptance letter to BU, postcards from my middle brother in Chicago, and my new CTP business cards on it. I think next time I'm home I'll grab that A from the basement for my apartment.