• A Pigeon in My Flashing (and Other Bedtime Stories)

    When Nature and Civilization collide it sounds just like stirring twelve tin cans in the bathtub with a golf club. This sound, combined with another sound—the sound of a pair of teeny-tiny hands strangling a pigeon.

    I laid in bed for 1…2…3…4…5 hours and listened to, what I concluded was, a pigeon trapped behind the flashing on my house.help-me-pigeon

    A squirrel met its maker (Bruce Hornsby) that same way last Summer. But not before it spent several days running itself to death. Was the pigeon luckier? It shivered in the cold until shortly before dawn. Like the Little Match Girl, it shivered to death, clutching a clawful of burnt matches.

    We have a client that needs graphics for its trucks so while I listened to the pathetic cries of the dying pigeon, I thought about that.

    It was a productive night.

    January 14, 2012
  • OMGUR4T

    A surprise birthday party is 1,000% more fun than a regular birthday party. The planners plan for weeks – sending out secret invitations:becky-invite-w-envelope-10x10

    Unearthing senior photos to print on drink coasters:becky-coaster

    And finally the moment arrives!

    January 9, 2012
  • In January It’s So Nice

    Hello, January. I hate you. Not as much as February, but I still hate you. I tell my children that you are full of fun and possibilities but I am lying.

    http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-NOJIYe6qoI

    Perhaps this card captures my true feelings:what-fresh-hell

    January 7, 2012
  • Tribulation Consolation

    Sometimes (not very often) I find myself at a loss for words. Speechless. Struck dumb by powerful emotion. “I’m stunned. I mean, I’m in a state of… somebody should just throw a blanket over me, you know?” – Woody Allen (Manhattan)

    Sometimes an empathy card is better than a sympathy card.

    Sometimes a bear playing violin says it all.there-are-no-words

    January 1, 2012
  • Taking (A Fearless Moral) Inventory

    Jen told me that she is learning to master Quickbooks. I trust her.jen-puzzle

    I bet that the Quickbooks tutorial requires puzzle completion before you really get into the meat of the application—just to make sure the user is nimble-minded.

    The New Year is upon us and to celebrate I stood on a chair, my head surrounded by asbestos wrapped pipes, and counted envelopes.fran-counting-inventoryJen said this was called taking inventory and while I am familiar with this as a spiritual concept, with a priest and confessional handy, I was easily distracted because the priest and confessional were replaced by the dog and a bin of Bazooka bubble gum.one-dog-named-milliebazooka-binThese items were not on Jen’s listjen-inventory-listbut I think that was a potentially expensive oversight. Just to be on the safe side, I counted one dog named Millie and 34 pieces of Bazooka.

    You’re welcome, Jen. 

    December 31, 2011
  • Fortune Teller, Tell My Fortune

    Winter has been creeping in like a gas leak and I am always pleasantly surprised to find myself awake in the morning. It would not take long for the madness of Winter to descend upon the little house. Letterpress printed on recycled paper. Comes with coordinating envelope and packaged in cellophane sleeve.

    “That’s nice.” I say, as I stretch and crawl off my sofa-bed. Never one to miss nuance, I wonder why I’m not in my own bed.

    Good design sometimes requires getting into character – I’ve been dressing like a gypsy (not showering) for our latest Tanek project. A paper fortune teller is easier to mail than a crystal ball and some might argue – more accurate. Tanek will send 300 of these out to their dearest friends – I only hope they take the responsibility of predicting the future seriously:

    fortune-teller-1fortune-teller-5 fortune-teller-2 fortune-teller-3 fortune-teller-4  fortune-teller-6

    December 21, 2011
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  • All Apologies

    Wouldn’t it be great if there was a single greeting card that could wrap up your feelings of culpability completely? Sometimes saying your sorry just doesn’t seem like enough. Sure, you could show the offended party your remorse, but that can take up a lot of time (and energy!). I’ve put a sizable amount of thought into this issue and believe I’ve come up with a solution that will satisfy both parties.

    I give you, The Apology Card:my-bad

    March 11, 2012
  • CRIKEY

    At my ballroom dancing school, I was a hesitant, awkward girl. I wore glasses and oversized t-shirts.fran

    My papa, and my entire Spanish gypsy family, were skilled in the ways of dance but it was hard for me to incorporate my roots into ballroom dancing.

    How did I do it? As luck would have it, the handsome star of our dance school agreed to start practicing with me. Pretty soon he was wearing a matador jacket and I didn’t even need my glasses.

    Speaking of Australia! Zeichen Press just got an Australian distributor!god-help-those-people-globe

    March 8, 2012
  • Clichés and Slogans

    Are non-Western cultures conversations peppered with trite, colloquial sayings?

    Like, in Kapushi, Zambia (population: 26 people per mile) — does one friend say to another (in Kaonde) upon receiving news that their baby was trampled by antelope, “Everything happens for a reason”? 

    These condensed and optimistic phrases are woven into our chats and unless you are a hermit or deaf, we are all guaranteed to hear at least one per day.a-blessing-in-disguise-blue

    March 7, 2012
  • Man Up

    Sometimes a man’s manliness must be recognized. Manly is a term often reserved for a lumberjack, firefighter, or bounty-hunter. A narrow and unfortunate caricature. Why not a goatherd? Or glass-blower? Or gemologist?

    Anyman* that strides confidently into their chosen arena (office, field, arcade, classroom, rubber raft, bowling alley, butcher shop, grist mill) and owns it is, in my opinion, a beast.

    Give them this small token: (They will grunt, nod, excuse themselves, and go into the bathroom to shed a single tear.)youre-a-beast-color

    *Did I make that up?

    March 4, 2012
  • I Don’t Understand You

    I’m talking about leap day. Don’t even bother trying to explain it to me, I don’t actually care. The important thing is that I milked one more day out of this prudish month.

    Zeichen Press would be nothing without self-imposed deadlines (and cake) and our card-release was set for March 1.

    It was a real pressure-cooker situation around here — and because I don’t have enough intensity in my life, I locked myself in the linen closet and reenacted Apollo 13’s return journey. Just me, my laptop, both cats, and toilet paper tubes. We got home safely, God Bless America.

    Anyway, we can thank the ground crew (Kim & Fred) for jury-rigging up product photos:handsintheairaboveaveragebacon

    March 1, 2012
  • Mister Eat All The Things OR Three Acres And A Cow

    There once was a Frenchman that could, and would, eat large objects. He ate them bit by bit and was able to digest bicycles, televisions, shopping carts, chandeliers, and even an airplane. This took patience and, reportedly, gallons of mineral oil.

    Bit by bit.

    This wasn’t some sort of performance art piece — he never meant for it to be a metaphor.

    But he ate a plane.

    Such deliberateness! I like to imagine that he carefully considered each piece as he pried it off and swallowed it.

    Mister Eat All The Things (Monsieur Mangetout) could be an inspiring mascot for an economic philosophy.

    I’ve been told that a printing press in the shop is just as good as three acres and a cow. We’ll see. WE’LL SEE.

    Anyway, I made this card for the president of The Society of Distributism because he has a fancy book signing coming up — 150 lucky people will receive the card. Oh, and a signed book.there-is-no-place-like-small

    February 26, 2012
  • Using Big Words

    The Epilepsy Foundation needed a new look for their fleet of trucks and The Carney Group contacted me (via telepathy) to see if my brain was available to think of ideas. I’m not just a brain. Geez.

    I rescheduled my ice-pick lobotomy and put on my thinking cap.

    What if the trucks were bright red and had big white letters with a line like, THIS TRUCK CONTAINS TWO TONS OF HOPE??

    Yes?

    Okay.this-truck-contains-two-tons-of-hope

    February 19, 2012
  • American Psychiatric Association Adds Clown Phobia to list of Disorders: Clown Uprising Imminent

    Do I have to write the script myself? The script that tells the tale of an experiment gone horribly wrong — a pharmaceutical company hot on the heals of developing a drug that ends all pain and suffering forever??

    The drug, nicknamed “Bozo” does so well in animal testing… So well, in fact, it is released to the general population of prison inmates.

    Death row no longer feels like a death sentence, cold concrete cells feel like a day spa, “relationships” feel special.

    Until… The unexpected “side effects” begin to develop… Oh, it’s too sick. Just imagine a zombie movie but replace the zombies with clowns.

    Here’s a birthday card:clown-card-orange

    February 16, 2012
  • When Good Kittens Go Bad

    Some kittens are sociopathic — everyone knows that. Do not be fooled by their charm! Beneath that furry, purring coat lies a circuit board of complex manipulation.

    I’ve heard some successful rehabilitation stories but if you, or someone you know, lives with one of these creatures, it might be better to abandon it on the side of a highway.even-birthdays-blue

    February 12, 2012
  • Mawkish

    [maw-kish] adjective sentimental in a feeble or sickly way • archaic having a faint sickly flavor : the mawkish smell of warm beer

    I don’t think I understand the definition. Or, maybe I do. Aren’t a lot of greeting cards mawkish?

    mawkish-birthday-card

    Who would give that card? Wait, who made that card? Probably a very nice person. A person who loves hearts and roses and rhymes and sparkles.

    I tried to make a mawkish card. thnking-of-hugh-grayThat’s Hugh Beaumont, the kindly father from Leave it to Beaver.hugh-beaumont-screen-grabHugh hated that he was typecast and later opened a Christmas tree farm in Grand Rapids, Minnesota. I don’t think he opened the Christmas tree farm because he hated that he was typecast. But I don’t know – he was obviously a complicated man.

    February 9, 2012
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