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

Night of 1,000 Bloggers – ON ICE!

Keegan’s Pub�was crawling with local bloggers last night. I, too, left my�secret headquarters�and mingled with fellow pasty-faced Minnesotans. Aside from the table-raping, the evening was pleasant. Nobody noticed that I was suited up and ready for a blogathlon – I have been training all winter for this event – mostly sitting. Also, the interest I’ve had in other “things” and “people” has had to take a back-seat to my “writing”. The only thing that would have made the night more awesome is if�James Lileks�and I could have performed our Ice Revue. One word: Magic. Here’s a photo of me taken by a fellow�blogger :

Doesn’t it look like I’m having fun?! I always have fun when I drink flat Pepsi. Notice my delicate pinky-finger. Notice the food on my sweater and in my hair. Somebody must have thrown that at me because I don’t even eat anymore. I just drink flat Pepsi.��The Nihilist in Golf Pants�was also there… he may or may not remember the event. He was with a fellow that had wonderfully shaped eyebrows and spoke of gopher-holes. I think he was talking about gopher-holes. I was so busy staring at the miracle of a man-in-his-third-trimester that I lost track of the conversation.

March 8, 2009
“birthday card for a murderer”

That was the most recent search on my blog stats page. Somebody NEEDS a birthday card for that special murderer in their life. Somebody typed those words into their little google search window and the 13th result is a link to this blog post.

You’re welcome.

March 4, 2009
Bring it, Old Woman:

Work�is not really the right word for what I do. But�I do sit in a particular chair in my living room. I sit with my laptop on my lap. I sit here a lot.�Oft. I sit here ofttimes. In front of me is a couch. On the couch is the dog.

Above the couch are a row of windows. I sit and, absentmindedly, stare out the window. I do most everything absentmindedly. Some call it day-dreaming. I call it thoughts and feelings�continuously�flowing uninterrupted by objective description or conventional dialogue.

My teachers called it “almost failing.”

ANYWAY. I am sitting in my chair and I realize I am�absentmindedly staring out the window.�I notice the woman across the street (whose name I dare not speak) standing in front of her large picture window. She is an older woman and I’ve see her putter about in her yard scads of times… Now I see her�standing�in her living room, looking out her window. Not just�looking�out her window – she is standing stiff and still – as if in confrontation. She is staring, staring at me. I wouldn’t expect a television actor to stop the show and look through the glass at me looking at them. It’s not as if�I�am standing and staring out�my�window. I am in my usual slumped position, eyes barely over the screen of the computer, headphones blaring music in my ears.

I am�camouflaged. She shouldn’t be able to see me.

But she does.

She sees me and I’m not kidding: She, this elderly lady, gives me TWO MIDDLE FINGERS! I actually pointed at myself “who me?” and turned around, sure to see some scoundrel. But no!�The�eminem-style-double-flip-off�was meant for me. ME! I watched as she closed her blinds.

February 26, 2009
MMPA Oscar Luncheon Update/My Roundworm Realization

Robert Downy Jr. is holding My Cards and�the cat is throwing up worms. Yin Yang, right??!! I get it. I GET IT. I can’t have the RDJ without the 5″ long vomit-covered, wriggling worms. I wouldn’t even dream of it. I don’t even DESERVE it. I AM the worm.

The Lowly Worm.�

February 20, 2009
��Creatives Better Bring it in 2009 or How Not to Get Outsourced��

Hey!

I’ve got your stimulus plan right here: (picture me pantomiming using and flushing a toilet)

WHAT?! I KNOW! It?’s nuts, but don’?t worry, I have a plan. What? You are a ?creative? and not one of those money-grubbing-pencil-pushing-number-crunching-suit-wearing-folder-filing-douche-bags? Oh, well. Never mind. Your�bulging, overdeveloped right brain will miraculously begin its emergency production of U.S. currency.

Oh, silly me. Or, ?Blee, blah, blah? as my mom would say. That was MY bulging, overdeveloped right brain trying to find a creative solution for something that is far too complicated for my shriveled left brain to comprehend. Doctors say that my left brain is all that actually remains of my parasitic conjoined twin.

But that’?s not important.

Listen, what IS important is this: Stuff as much potable water and canned ham as will fit in a canvas bag and hitchhike to the least populated area you can find. It will probably be a shopping mall because nobody has any money?.

I?’m just kidding.

Don?’t bring the canned ham – that?s gross. Bring one of those shrink-wrapped holiday sausages. Okay, where was I? Why do I think it?’s important to go to the mall to see the people NOT spending their moola? BECAUSE, you – The Creative, need to inspire the buyer to buy and should see firsthand where the people are milling about, imagining shelling out their hard-earned dough. This economic pickle will do something interesting for the creative community: It will separate the men from the boys, like a giant, emotionless colander. All you timid, cowering, insecure creatives will slip through the holes.

Don?t feel bad, your ?”creative thing”? could win you the title of The Most Awesome Pictionary Partner.

But, the rest of you… YOU need to bring it.

Bring.

It.

Show us what you?’re made of! There was a time when men labored their entire lives on a single artistic work. We have a word for those people: Dead. And also, dedicated. Know your market and drive your original, imaginative spear right through that teeny-tiny part of their brain that whispers, ?I like that.?

NOW, if you are a creative that does NOT need to earn a living busting your creative butt- ignore all of those crazy words above. YOU are a purist. You design and make and create because you can. If I were Oprah I?’d say that with a ton of energy and enthusiasm, ?BECAUSE… YOU… CAN!!? Do you feel me? Knit, sew, draw, paint, print, cook, write – whatever your medium, do your thing – don’?t let the staggering, smelly, urine-soaked economy drag you down, don’?t be discouraged! This is your big chance to wear depression-era clothing and squeeze blood from a stone! Visit your local thrift stores for materials, scour Craigslist for deals, fish your local pond for dinner!

My brother, Zak, goes to great lengths to keep his money from The Man. (Offshore accounts, blee, blah, blah) Salvaging wood from broken-down barns, buildings, docks, whatever – and transforms them into stunning pieces of furniture, ornaments, frames, and toys. (Shameless, nepotistic plug: click here to be lathered in images of wooden beauty)

It must be genetic because My Grandpa was all about recycling WAY before it was even a thing. He made his living as a plumber and knew copper more than most men know their wives. (But who can�really�KNOW copper? Right?) Door pulls, garden arbors, oven racks… the whole damn house was held together by copper.

Are you picking up what I?’m laying down? I?’m giving you examples from my own life that you might find something relatable in yours. That makes you, the reader, feel closer to me. We should totally go have coffee and talk about how we?re going to rock 2009.

Right on.

February 13, 2009
****Star Struck****

Richard Jenkins,�Brad Pitt,�Kate Winslet,�Angelina Jolie,�Meryl Streep,�Danny Boyle,�Stephen Daldry,�David Fincher,�Ron Howard,�Gus Van Sant,�Robert Downey, Jr.,�Philip Hoffman,�Michael Shannon,�Penelope Cruz,�Viola�Davis,�Taraji P. Henson,�Marisa Tomei:

Are.

All.

Getting.

Our.

Cards

YOU HEARD ME. These celebrated people will be attending the MMPA Oscar Luncheon and will be receiving one of those fancy gift bags that everyone drools over in Entertainment Weekly.
Is it wrong that I am caressing the cards and calling them Sugar-Bush?
Good luck cards. Good luck and God-speed.
Oh, which cards did we pick?

These:

January 30, 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