It’s finally Spring! Time to peel off my SmartWool socks and bury them in the backyard following a short – but tasteful – ceremony. They will be missed. Everyone at Zeichen Press went and got a mani/pedi.
Except Jen.
Here is a before and after:
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Is letterpress too classy for you?
It might be. I’m going to have to credit Martha Stewart with sparking the mainstream revival of the craft. Everyone settle down. If Martha and I ever met (someday on NBC 11:00AM CST) I would burst into tears. She’d slap me across the face and tell me to get ahold of myself. Oh, Martha! You always know just what to do! Zeichen Press has designed and printed its share of wedding related invitations – and we’re pretty certain that gives us some sort of carbon-neutral status. How? It’s pretty complicated – something to do with joy and decency neutralizing our usual gaucheness.
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Hi, zeichenpress. Martha Stewart is following your tweets on Twitter.
Oh, Martha Stewart!
I wish I could believe that you were following Zeichen Press on Twitter because of the recycled Panko Japanese Style Breading box/press kit I sent you last August…
Or because of the letterpress art print I sent you last October…
Or the baby I sent you last November…
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More on the new Zeichen Press website
We’ll be shooting our opening film using (surprise!) something that pre-dates my birth.
Didn’t I learn my lesson with that stupid typewriter?
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The true story behind the Zeichen Press logo:
Okay, let’s call her “Sheila” and let’s call him “Franz Ferdinand.”
She resented every one of his hair-plugs. Row after row of weak little sprouts – such an offensive landscape. Each bloody little ring contained 4-5 “transplant hairs,” the math was easy enough – she figured that each stubby hair cost $7.40. Her pre-taxed, hourly wage at the Seed-N-Feed was $7.45 – barely enough to cover the cost of a single hair.
He had convinced her that the new hair would make him a better dancer. She knew now that it did not – his “moves” reminded her of the farmhands baling hay. Each jerky swinging of his arms nearly punching her in the stomach.
His unemployment was running out and now, thanks to this unwise investment, they would have to move into his mother’s trailer. Her whole life she wanted to be a professional dancer and had been searching for the perfect partner – why hadn’t she listened to her gut or that certified psychic that really seemed to understand her? Still, she danced with him – her graceful movements, her twirling skirt – he would have been captivated by her beauty if he wasn’t so fixated on the pounding in his chest.
°°°°°
Wow! We all know what happens next. Thank the Lord she knows CPR and that despite the bitterness the hair-plugs caused, she still wanted to keep him alive. Sheila and Franz Ferdinand might just make it.
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Youth Is Wasted
When my daughter was small (until she became a giant),
she wrestled daily with Jungian archetypes… She was fascinated by the Actor/Storyteller… and the story of The Boy Who Cried Wolf was a favorite.Oh, that Boy!! She was disgusted and fascinated!
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Don’t Look Away!
Ahh, there is nothing like a Midsummer Night’s Homebirth!
Oh, and here’s a card. I’VE BEEN BUSY, OKAY??
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Marinate & Ruminate & Distill & Purge
Don’t you hate looking at photographs when you’re not in them?
Me too!
Oh, and I made this for my gals.
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Deja Vu
We bought our house on the Cape in 1982…
this was the same year that The Go-Go’s penned their masterpiece.
Coincidence?? I THINK NOT.
Summers on the Cape were filled with so much adventure! There were trees to climb, sea-creatures to discover, rocks to paint (it’s complicated), and cans to return for 5¢ — imagine returning an ENTIRE BAG of cans. Your very own money to spend on candy at the Barnstable News. I dragged a garbage bag of empty cans up Millway, past the dead bodies
to claim my prize. I did not anticipate this being such a great windfall… The Adult behind the counter counted all of my (mostly beer) cans (thanks Uncle Gary!) and the total staggered me.“Two dollars and thirty-five cents.”
I gasped.
I walked past the wall of candy, right to the freezer full of ice cream treats. One box of six ice cream sandwiches, all for me. ALL FOR ME!!
I was a girl on a mission: Eat all six, share with no one, and never breathe a word of this to any of my siblings. 
I held the package to my (boyish) chest, and ran until I was sure I was alone. Across the street from the cemetery, and next to an abandoned house, I ripped open the box and started eating. 1…2…3… still going strong… 4… slowing down… 5… Five! Only FIVE! What a failure! I staggered home, and benevolently offered the final sandwich to my little brother. (What a fool he was for not even questioning my backstory!)
Present day: Southwest Airline’s Boeing 737: 40,000 feet.
I made these:
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July: Barnstable County
Would a plate-smashing scene make this trip more authentic? Maybe. Oh, but here we are bored out of our minds…
It’s tiresome, really! Just ocean, ocean, ocean… day in and day out.
And nobody even documents my joie de vivre! Sadly, I must document myself.
Jen sent me her selfie all the way from Zeichen Press Headquarters:
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When I was down beside the sea
A wooden spade they gave to me
To dig the sandy shore.
My holes were empty like a cup.
In every hole the sea came up,
Till it could come no more.
~ Robert Louis Stevenson
Back on the Cape again…
Aren’t the kids so sweet? They have so much fun… Wait… WHAT?! How did I miss that??
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Mystery Solved!
With the warm weather comes mating animals and flies covering the shop windows.
And nothing else. NOTHING ELSE.One might ask, “I wonder why that window is so filthy?” And another might respond, “Shhh, just close your eyes while I slowly and firmly place this pillow over your face…”
There.
Now, onto the flies. I did all the research and learned that these are no ordinary flies. The internet told me that they are called Cluster Flies, so I vacuumed them up and made this card:
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Deadbeat Cat
I think Tib The Cat is pregnant. I could have (should have?) put a stop to the coitus, but who am I to stand in the way of true love? WHO AM I? Wait, was that really true love??
Hmm… Zoom… Enhance…
GOOD LORD.Speaking of Father’s Day…
Oh, and did this Father’s Day card ever make it on the blog? (Winky-face.)
PS: Apparently my SEO success could be better if I mention letterpress-related words IN my blog posts. Words like: tactile, vintage press, printing, ink, paper, mangled hand. -
Sleeping?
Sometimes (oftentimes) I wake in the middle of the night and tap messages to myself on my iPhone.
For example (and I quote):
“I just want to eat gobstoppers and take rearview mirror selfies… William Shatner in gladiator costume on 40′ stilts… A young Ben Franklin with a head full of dreams and a heart full of hate… Bromeo & Juliet… You Are Here –>brain…”
Upon thoroughly waking, my task is to decode this nocturnal rambling.
Sometimes I am successful.
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Treading Water
In the Spring of 1990, I packed up a carton of cigarettes, a skillet, 4 forks, a sketch pad, and some Mexican jumping beans. Graduating high school means moving into a dormitory on the campus of the college of your dreams. OR moving into an apartment above a pizza place.
EITHER WAY, this card seems appropriate:
SPEAKING OF APPROPRIATE, is gluten-intolerance funny?