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

Where’s my unpaid intern?

WHERE??? If I have to work on this�catalog layout for�10 more seconds I’m going to quit my job. I will instantly rehire myself just so I can quit again. This could go on for days. Of COURSE I couldn’t just work with the catalog copy �in Adobe InDesign – I HAD to use a WWII era typewriter. A Smith-Corona Skyriter to type in each individual bit of information about all 100 products.�What is wrong with me?

�

I actually�cheated�in “keyboarding I AND II” in high school. Don’t ask me how. DON’T ASK ME.�

Jen is just dying to say, “I told you so.” Just shut up, Jen. Why must �you take the place of my underdeveloped sensibilities?

January 8, 2009
Waist-deep snow

Day Two. ��Snow fell through the night and drifted into the passage. The women and children are weaker today. Kenneth is ailing and must be dragged on a make-shift sledge. Robert appears to be delusional and only can speak of thick-cut bacon and death metal. The dogs are starting to look delicious, especially the fluffy one. We are, most certainly, in a predicament.

��

Um, here’s a new card – inspired by the men, women, and children that ventured West .

The Donner (Birthday) Party

January 4, 2009
I’ll tell you what

Uh. December is, like, over. I don’t even care. Good riddance you ungrateful pig. You think you’re so great with your Christmas and your Hanukkah and your Britney Spears’ birthday. I’ve had it. I think we all have. Even with all of these Feast Days I managed to squeeze in our long-awaited catalog creation. And don’t think I forgot about my�25-birthday-cards. Self-imposed deadlines are the only way to get anything done. You know what else works? Pretending someone is going to kill you if you don’t get something done. SO, I scrounged up some images and wrote some lines. Yeah, yeah – I’ve not set the type or done layouts or pulled any proofs – mere formalities. And anyway, my shop elves will do it while I’m ringing in the New Year in lovely Brainerd, Minnesota. Here are a few images/lines – they’ll be 15% funnier after I’ve had my way with them. And another thing: they’re not all birthday cards. I’m not some sort of one-trick pony.

You make this, you live.

Good luck.

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Shhhh. Nobody’ll even notice us.

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Eh? What’s that? Whose birthday? Who are you? Get out of my room.

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��Happy Birthday, you tool.

…and in conclusion – quit calling me a pussy.

Sincerely,

Pevenshire Wiffynuts

x=get me the f*ck out of here.

Congratulations.

I said, CONGRATULATIONS!

If you’re old enough to remember this game
you are probably sitting in your own urine.

Thanks for coming to my birthday party, my tiny friends.

��

Alright, that’ll do. I’ll post more after the elves work it out. Oh, and if you see a woman running around Brainerd in giant underpants and Sorel Boots it’s not me. Happy New Year!!!

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December 31, 2008
No-Coast and a stock pot

Good Lord, what a day! I got up at the crack o’ eight – Jen picked me up and brought me to the MidTown Market to hawk our goods. It was the No-Coast Craft-o-Rama! We were pretty much SiameseTwins – due to my crippling Math Anxiety, I can’t be left alone to make change for a twenty. I welcome your prayers. I smiled lots and said, “four�dollars” or “five�dollars” whenever I felt like it. Sometimes it was in response to a customer’s question. Here are some customers: notice their intense cheerfulness:

I did manage to step away from our table to find a crinkly cat bag for My Mother-in-Law. She’s gonna frickin’ love it. Those cats are gonna thank me by walking by me and not noticing I exist. It’ll be one awesome Christmas.

…Fast forward, like, eight hours and I found myself at a delightful Holiday Party. I think it was in Plymouth. Anyway, the halls were decked, the booze was flowing. The booze was flowing. In retrospect, I don’t think it all wanted to be in�my�body. I’m not sure why, at the time, I thought it did want to be in there. And honestly, there wasn’t a lot of �room, what with all the�spanakopita�. I was planning on giving it all up in a stock pot that Katie generously donated to the car. I felt the love. I did make it home, with a clean stock pot, and Kenny dumped me into bed. He was like a hunter and I was like a deer carcass. The bed was the pick-up truck. It was so much fun. I dragged my sorry arse out of bed this morning to for churching. The stock pot is a symbol of one woman’s redemption. So much can happen in a day.

PS: Did you know that 80’s glasses are back in style?? You crazy kids!

December 7, 2008
SO. MANY. WORDS.

Three 10″x15″ iron chases locked up with�Touchpoint�Buzzwords. Buzzwords and some other random cuts from the ZP collection – including a chunk from a newspaper insert advertising handy items for the ladies: A rubber-lined shopping bag available in gay plaids, a multi-tiered clothes hanger, a cap to protect the hairdo. What I wouldn’t give to have those items. My drab, rain-soaked groceries… My closet, crammed full! How could I be hanging my clothes on ONE plane? My hair, My God, my hair… I don’t even know where to start. I get a “do” and leave it�completely�unprotected. It’s like I don’t even care! Oh. Back to the Touchpoint Holiday Card/Disc Sleeve. It’s super sweet:

December 3, 2008
SO. MANY. WORDS.

�Three 10″x15″ iron chases locked up with Touchpoint Buzzwords. Buzzwords and some other random cuts from the ZP collection – including a chunk from a newspaper insert advertising handy items for the ladies: A rubber-lined shopping bag available in gay plaids, a multi-tiered clothes hanger, a cap to protect the hairdo.

What I wouldn’t give to have those items. My drab, rain-soaked groceries… My closet, crammed full! How could I be hanging my clothes on ONE plane? My hair, My God, my hair… I don’t even know where to start. I get a “do” and leave it completely unprotected. It’s like I don’t even care!

Oh. Back to the Touchpoint Holiday Card/Disc Sleeve. It’ super sweet:

Touchpoint Cd Sleeve

Touchpoint Cd Sleeve

Touchpoint Cd Sleeve

Touchpoint Cd Sleeve

December 3, 2008

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