What may look like a harmless pothole or random remainder of grass takes on a different meaning when viewed from the perspective of the ultra-small, becoming dangerous sinkholes or inviting plots of land for sale, respectively.

Michael Pederson crafts signage for just such a miniature reality, helping form orderly lines for anyone heading into a small hole in the wall, or suggesting a certain hiding space may not be as welcoming as it looks.

One can imagine tiny creatures of myth and fantasy, or simply everyday little urban animals, installing such signs to variously warn, invite, notify and sell at a scale that most of us overlook on an everyday basis.

For full-sized human observers, the signs can provide small insights into the world around us, reminding people how long, for instance, a given weed has managed to struggle and grow out of an unassuming crack in the pavement (via Colossal).

Tapping into the natural expansion of a squeezable ball under pressure, this urban micro-globe provides both big-picture views and detailed streetscapes on one continuous surface.

Hungarian designer Dénes Sátor created the rubber EggMap ball in response to both traditional paper maps and newer digital equivalents, wanting a to pack more information into less space without relying on external energy or connectivity.

The spherical solution addresses classic issues with other geographical guides. Folding maps wear out over time, are susceptible to weather and conspicuous to examine publicly in unfamiliar places. Online maps may fail for lack of battery or internet.

Color-coded city sections let you easily spin and locate places on the map; a quick squeeze then reveals street names, specific locations and transit details (illustrated in the legend above).

Made to be robust and portable, the air-filled ball easily resists rain, wind, mud or snow and can be tossed in a pocket or backpack when not in use. And if you still manage to get lost, you can always throw it against the wall in anger – it will rebound.

Analog stickering is taking on a new dimension in the hands of these street artists, a pair of creatives selectively defacing signs, billboards, mailboxes, graffiti and more.

From DsgnWrld: “Guus Ter Beek and Tayfun Sarier , two creatives behind the Street Eraser blog, are merging the digital world with the analog, sticking their adobe-inspired art throughout London’s urban fabric.”

Anyone who has used Adobe Photoshop should be familiar with the circular edges of the default tool and the spaces it creates.

And then there is the square checkered background that shows up when you wipe out all the layers in front of it to reveal the void.

The concept is clear: the world becomes a facade and the backdrop a digital no man’s land, or, better yet, a blank slate on which to re-add another layer of creative art.

Being able to store old videos in digital formats has helped preserve some of the world’s most important footage. It has also helped us keep all of our old family memories intact without worrying about ever losing that video of Dad at the beach or the family at Disneyland. The problem with digital, though, is that it takes away a certain kind of connection to the video.

The Bioscope is an interesting project from Jon Stam and Simon de Bakker that reappropriates digital, previously-analog footage into a once-again analog format. The Bioscope is a kind of hand-held one-person cinema experience. Its shape was based on a child’s video viewer toy, a small plastic device through which one could look while turning a hand crank. A video would magically play through the viewfinder, much to the amazement of the child lucky enough to play with this amazing toy.

The same kind of wonder and amazement are recreated with the Bioscope. Digital video is fed into the device via a USB stick. From there, the functionality is up to the user. Turning the crank on the side quickly will make the video play fast; turning it slowly will play the video back in nostalgia-filled slow motion. The movement of the pictures is entirely up to you; if you stop cranking, the pictures stop moving.

While it is an unusual step backward in technology, the creators insist that this is necessary for us to again become connected to our data, to our memories, to our lives. Interacting with our memories in this more tactile, physical way allows us to form new bonds with them and attach new emotions to those images captured long ago.