John Thomson Willing was a Canadian-born American artist and author, recognized for his significant contributions to graphic arts and public relations in the early 20th century. He began his artistic training as a lithographer at the Ontario School of Art before moving to the United States, where he became the art director of Metropolitan Magazine. His work in visual communication extended to his role as art manager for Associated Sunday Magazines and his involvement with the Salmagundi Club in New York, where he was elected as an Artist member in 1897. Willing's artistic talents were further showcased during World War I, where he led pictorial publicity efforts for various humanitarian campaigns, enhancing public awareness and support for causes such as the Salvation Army and the relief efforts in Armenia and the Near East. Beyond his artistic endeavors, Willing played a pivotal role in the establishment of professional organizations for graphic arts, being a charter member and the first treasurer of the American Institute of Graphic Arts (AIGA). His leadership within the AIGA culminated in his election as co-vice president from 1921 to 1924, and he was honored with the AIGA medal in 1935 for his contributions to the field. Willing's legacy lies in his dual impact as an artist and a pioneer in graphic design, influencing the standards of visual communication and public engagement in America during a transformative period in the arts.
“Who is most wretched in this dolorous place?I think myself; yet I would rather beMy miserable self than He, than HeWho formed such creatures to His own disgrace.The vilest thing must be less vile than ThouFrom whom it had its being, God and Lord!Creator of all woe and sin! abhorredMalignant and implacable! I vowThat not for all Thy power furled and unfurled,For all the temples to Thy glory built,Would I assume the ignominious guiltOf having made such men in such a world.As if a Being, God or Fiend, could reign,At once so wicked, foolish and insane,As to produce men when He might refrain!The world rolls round for ever like a mill;It grinds out death and life and good and ill;It has no purpose, heart or mind or will.While air of Space and Time's full river flowThe mill must blindly whirl unresting so:It may be wearing out, but who can know?Man might know one thing were his sight less dim;That it whirls not to suit his petty whim,That it is quite indifferent to him.Nay, does it treat him harshly as he saith?It grinds him some slow years of bitter breath,Then grinds him back into eternal death.””
“but it’s surprising how readily people are willing to believe a story, especially when they don’t have a chance to question anything.””
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