My fans are relentless, ”Fran, how do you do it? Please, let us in to that magical and mysterious world you call your brain. Give us, if you think we can handle it, a tiny snippet of what it’s like to experience your Creative Process.” Well, stand back; I’m about to blow your minds. BLOW YOUR MINDS. This will be a little bit like someone revealing the secrets of the universe, the meaning of life, and the riddle of the sphinx. Until now, there has only been speculation. Speculation and rumor. Just like the moon landing. So, just sit right down and call in sick to work – Ready, set, go; here’s the deal: Notebook + pencil + old printer’s cut =
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Words sitting next to pictures
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Total Reject
The nice thing about owning your own company and producing your own line of goods is that: A) I won’t fire me for sexually harassing myself. B) I give myself outstanding quarterly reviews. C) I haven’t showered in God Knows How Long and nobody (hi Jen!) cares. D) I can write/design/print whatever I think is funny.
The other day, the Trader Joe’s Card Chick submitted three of my cards to TJ’s. Originally there were nine and after some pretty complicated calculations on my calculator, I figured that left six for us. (Eat that, Sister Diane, I told you I’d be able to apply my limited math skills to the real world!) Here’s a peek at the six rejects: Three are for sale in our online store. Why only three? I bet you’d like to know.
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Our biggest custom customer: Trader Joe’s
The Trader Joe’s Card Chick called and asked us to do some custom work for them.
I was like, “get in line lady, it’s not like Consumer Reports ranked Trader Joe’s the second-best supermarket chain in the nation.” And she was like, “yeah, they did.” And I was like, “I knew that, I was just testing you.”
Even without my lucky historical period costume we were able to produce some winners. (My teacher used to say, “we are all winners when we don’t use drugs” but I think she was using the word ‘we’ in the royal sense).
We gave nine cards to The Card Chick, she selected three to show to TJ’s and TJ’s is going to produce all three. They will be in the stores in March. They’ll be offset printing them, I feel good about that because I’m sure that Jen and I would be fingerless if we had to hand feed 80,000 cards into the jaws of The Beast.
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Taking the Christ out of Christmas since 2008!
When we create custom holiday cards for corporations/businesses, we are often asked to “make it not so, you know, Christmassy.” Here’s a new one for our own line – but we’re willing to share. Hey, Target Corporation: Want a few thousand?
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We were in the Style Section of the New York Times!
Sort of. Not exactly. Technically we were not named in the newspaper but we feel like that must have been an oversight. Somebody is probably going to lose their job because of that little error. We’re just sorry that we can’t be there to see it. See, we designed and printed wedding celebration invitations for the couple who were in the Style Section of the New York Times – um, like, that’s a super big deal. It’s right here, in black and white.
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How important is hygiene?
Yesterday, I spent 10 straight hours sitting in the kitchen. I didn’t brush my hair or teeth.
(I once saw a medical show about a man who complained of stomach aches, they finally cut him open and discovered his partially re-absorbed, unborn twin in his own belly. It had hair and teeth. Not much else to it. A lot of hair. A lot.)
I stayed in my pajamas. I drank coffee and cold fried chicken. Disgusting? Undoubtably. Did I care? Not the slightest. I was being paid to sit there and provide art direction for a local ad agency. Me and my laptop and the kitchen table strewn with yesterday’s dinner dishes. Who cares? Certainly not me. My Grandma would have been disgusted. She also would have been confused by the “strange typewriter machine”. Anyway, I finished the job, went to The Happy Gnome with my mom and made one of the kids clean the kitchen. Here’s a picture of me after I finished the job: note the fried chicken triggered chin acne.
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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?