Zeichen Press – Page 29 – Design & Letterpress for the people.

GRANDMA!!! CAN YOU HEAR ME??!!

Grandmas don’t read HOW�and they certainly do NOT read�SWISS �MISS�but they DO read Better Homes and Gardens. You know, BHG? See how I just dropped that abbrev? Grandma would thumb through the fashion and gossip mags at the checkout but like any good homemaker she would add the BHG to her cart. If she was feeling particular sassy, she’d throw in the DIY magazine (brought to you by the good people at BHG).

Oh, DIY! You know Martha Stewart�(PS: Martha, I DO want to see how you hay your fields) reads you under the covers with a flashlight – praying that Alexis doesn’t march into the room and flip on the soft-and-natural light.�

DIY magazine is doing a story on handmade goods – a “Best in Show” collection of the various craft shows around the country. We’ll be featured in the “Printed and Pressed” spread. Mmmm, printed and pressed… that makes me want a panini. Here are some photos – we can’t decide, although I think #4 tells a good story. Sometimes I go into the shop at night and Jen is just standing there like that. Shudder.

ONE MORE! (I photoshopped a smile on Jen’s face):

June 7, 2009
A Poster on Rosin Paper

Recently, my roof was crawling with roofers and I watched while they threw hunks of 80-year-old shingles into my Lilac bushes. After screaming at them in the only Spanish I knew (�De qui�n perro es �se??!! : Whose dog is that??!!) I grew very interested in a particular part of the process: a giant roll of red paper was used to cover my roof like gift-wrap – I thought it was strange and tried to mime some sort of conversation – my arms waving wildly, like I was landing a plane on an aircraft carrier. The foreman handed me a hundred-dollar-bill and told me I was special. I still don’t know what happened.�

Madge is turning sixty AND ALSO celebrating her 35th wedding anniversary. I have the honor of creating a poster to commemorate this Holy Convergence. There is a roll of red rosin paper and a couple cans of ink in the shop that are dying to be a part of the project. Here’s a sneak peak:

June 6, 2009
Are you my logo?

Back in the day When Men Wore Hats, back when cuffs were linked, when the boardroom had a bar, when men were men and women were secretaries; way back then, The Logo was king. I wish I could have been there. Thank God for Mad Men.��Dear Lord, please protect Don Draper from small cell lung carcinoma. Amen.

I love a good logo. I love it like I love my mother. I want it to challenge me at every turn. �I want it to lodge itself into my relational thinking. I want it to manipulate me. I DO.

Observe:

May 27, 2009
Californy is the place you ought to be

California would be the perfect place to be except for one teeny-tiny thing. No Zeichen Press. But soon all of its fine citizens will gobble up our goods like manna in the desert. LIKE MANNA.�

Will Los Angeles (and its glorious surrounding areas) embrace the simple and slightly twisted humor from Minnesota?�

Stay tuned.

May 20, 2009
My Google Shrine is bogus

What am I doing wrong? I devote myself to one search engine. ONE. There are so many more but my eye has never wandered. Sure, I played around a little bit with Yahoo – who didn’t? I just feel like this relationship is completely one-sided. I do. I give and give, search and search and when I FINALLY search for me, I get nothing but pages and pages of other letterpress studios. UM, that makes me ill. Listen, google: (If that is your real name) You either put me first or it’s over. That’s me; Zeichen Press. A design and letterpress studio in Minneapolis, Minnesota. Maker of fun and funny greeting cards and disc sleeves for one and all.

May 13, 2009
First Base with Trader Joe’s

The Trader Joe’s card chick sent a fat check with a little note that said, “Dearest Zeichen Press, let’s get it on.”�

Isn’t that romantic?

Sighhh, I love this stage of a relationship. Both a little awkward, both excited – sniffing each other’s bottoms. Other things go unnoticed – �cleaning, bills, cooking, dad’s life-support machine.�

I used to raise my hand in class, working my face to communicate a message to my teacher. It was important to get into character – my character was The Girl That Needs To Use The Bathroom Super Bad. It was serious. Of course, I’d be excused and head to the library. The librarian was the tough but lovable hunchback, Sister Avila. She loved the�Dewey Decimal System. Never a word from her mouth – just the stern pencil-tapping was enough to make me stuff a sock in it. Every day there was a crisp new StarTribune on the big table. I would feign interest in Global Matters but couldn’t wait to get the comics.

If Trader Joe’s likes this next round of cards I owe it all to skipping class, Sister Avila, and the comics of the late-1980’s. I claimed to despise the Family Circus, but dammit – I read it every day. I also followed Mark Trail�- the Cary Grant of the comics. BUT I saved The Far Side�for the very end – Gary Larson was the Pope of the Funnies. If he ever comes out of his pen-and-ink cave, I will kiss his ring.

Okay, here we go:

May 12, 2009

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:

March 11, 2012
CRIKEY

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

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!

March 8, 2012
Clich�s 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.

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.)

*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:

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.

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.

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:

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.

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?

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.�That’s�Hugh Beaumont,�the kindly father from�Leave it to Beaver.Hugh 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