graphic Design/  Illustration

Erin
Pollocoff

/ Email Me / LinkedIn / Behance
My journey into design began with a sewing machine. Two, really. The first was my grandmother's, schlepped to Wisconsin from Colorado, still in the desk and all. Twenty years older than I, it took 16 steps to thread and once I finally crossed that bridge, a part fell off. I sold it on Craigslist and got a new machine for Christmas. Suddenly the possibilities were endless. I could make things with my own hands? I could make something exactly how I wanted it? I began to really notice the patterns and distinguish the good from the sloppy, the deliberate color choices from the trendy. I soon found myself at a crossroads of unemployment and uncertainty, and the thought of proceeding in my previous field wasn't appealing. The lightbulb suddenly dinged above my head (I swear, I could hear it). I enrolled in the Graphic Design program at Madison College and never looked back.
As a pioneering Riot Grrl band in the late 1990\'s, Sleater-Kinney dealt with some pretty rampant sexism in the press and while on tour. This experience inspired a number of tracks on 2000\'s All Hands on the Bad One, and in turn inspired me to light some hair on fire and fight back.
To me, flamingoes are cartoon characters that have already come alive - they’re brightly colored, oddly disproportionate, and sleep on one leg. I like to imagine that like humans, they enjoy curling up with a good book.
The Center for Printing Arts at Madison College is one of our community’s best kept secrets. I’ve been able to hone my typesetting skills in the most traditional sense - with decades-old wood and metal type, spacing letters and words by hand. I can also turn my illustrations into polymer plates, mixing old and new. There’s nothing like feeling a perfect impression of your art into a nice piece of paper after you’ve cranked it through the press.
Surface patterns are what led me into pursuing graphic design as a career. I decided to learn how to sew because I could never find quite what I was looking for in clothes and purses, both in structure and color. I created a fabric line of surface patterns by filling up a sketchbook, scanning everything in, and getting to business in Photoshop.
Lunette is an imaginary architectural salvage warehouse with an event space and coffee shop, full of whimsy and fascination, near downtown Minneapolis. If this graphic design thing doesn’t work out, I might just have to go make it a reality.