It was only a matter of time because we were standing outside their office.
METRO home is a new special section in METRO. The cover of this months issue is intriguing and frightening. It might be a photograph of a bedroom/torture chamber. What’s behind those curtains?Yikes! This room comes with shackles and nightmares.
Urban Living Manifesto sounds really serious. Do people really take themselves that seriously?? Two words for them: settle. down.
Oh, but here’s something cheerful - it’s about Zeichen Press:
Those Room & Board prints were sure worth all of the sweat I dripped on them last Summer!
I was right in the middle of a dream where both of my eyeballs were, curiously, weeping blood. This was, of course, followed by an intense search for a public toilet and, AS USUAL, the only available toilet was in a high-traffic area of the Southdale Mall.
Thank God Jen called and woke me up. But not before I reluctantly (why do I always do it??) sat my bare bottom on the toilet.
If I’ve learned anything in my life it is how to be wrenched from a sound sleep and into a car in under 5 minutes.
It’s not pretty but neither is childbirth.
Jen and I stopped for our traditional latte at the May Day Cafe and then it was onward to the State Fairgrounds. The Fine Arts Building was our cold and unwelcoming host, its huge doors left open to remind us that April can be just as cold as November.
I’m sure the whole building was full of crafty-goodness but unless tables were set up on the way to the bathroom, I wasn’t going to see them. For eight hours, I did observe the folks running the Burlesque of North America table. They are screen printers – a craft that I have always had a crush on. Anyway, despite the sweetness of their prints, they were just as freezing as us.
Poor thing!
Our big experiment for this year’s fair involved a QR code
Dynamite magazine was full of hard-hitting news for kids growing up in the 1970’s.
But the best part of the magazine were the centerfolds. I wanted the Hang in There! poster so bad. It would have looked sweet on my closet door – right next to my Jackson 5 poster.
Struck by nostalgia and surrounded by (more) kittens, I took it upon myself to recreate the magic moment of the earnest kitten:When I was all done forcing the kittens to perform adorable stunts, it was time to make videos of people reading Zeichen Press cards.
Let me explain: Beneath various cards in our online shop, there will be a link to a video of someone (it could be you!) reading the card aloud. Why? Because even the lazy and the ne’er do wells have a right to Zeichen Press cards.
My grandma kept a drawer-full of greeting cards in her buffet. An entire drawer, devoted to spontaneous correspondence!
What a woman.
She also kept plastic on her sofa and carpet on her kitchen floor. She really wanted to protect her furniture and linoleum.
The Thank-You Note is a classic greeting card and should be the foundation of any collection. Receiving a thank-you note in the mail is a little bit like finding money in last Winter’s coat or a good hat in a snowbank.
Let’s write one together!
First, choose a card:Now on to the writing… We’ll break it down into 5 easy steps:
1) Begin with a greeting: Dear Aunt Shirley,
She loves to hear her name because cats can’t talk.
2) This is the meat of the note and notice there is no appetizer. This is a “note” not a letter. Cut right to it: Thank you so much for the medical marijuana! If the gift from Aunt Shirley was cash, do not mention it. Speak instead of her “generosity.” Thank you for your generosity!
3) Say a little bit about how you use or will use the gift: I smoke it everyday!
4) Mention the last time you saw Aunt Shirley and hint at a future meeting: It was lovely to see you at Uncle Bob’s funeral, I hope to see you again before your funeral!
5) And scene: Love, Fran
Oh, and here’s another card that will be added to the line:
“It is finished.” She gasped as she crumpled to the cold, concrete. It was, by all accounts, glorious. The work would outlast the artist and elevate the art form to new and dizzying heights.
But she, exhausted and covered in ink, was oblivious. To her, this was nothing more than an exercise. A functional and fleeting piece, it would be handled roughly and discarded by Springtime.
The odyssey began exactly three and a half miles West of the Mississippi during what would later be called “Friday.” No need for an alarm to be set because rising at 4am comes so naturally to me – getting a jump on the day makes me feel like a dynamo.
First legs of journeys are often fueled by earnestness and without vigilance, that fuel can turn to ennui. (ahn-wee)
Ennui can turn to desperation and when mixed with starvation, can lead to tragedy. Remember the Chilean rugby team? Their plane crashed in the Andes and they ate each other. Survival and cannibalism are in cahoots, everyone knows that.
Our airline didn’t want that blood on their hands so they loaded us up with a rib-sticking breakfast.
Our plane did land safely on the ground and we were stuffed into a sweat lodge/taxi-cab that smelled like thousands of weary travelers. (Curry + pine tree + urine).
I don’t remember my own birth but I bet it felt similar to exiting the taxi – the crying, the relief, the hotel cradling me in it’s arms.
Like good tourists, we went right from the hotel to the subway. Now I know that when I go to Purgatory (and I know I will) it will look, feel, and smell like the subway.
It will make heaven even more glorious.
Because traveling underground on a train isn’t strange enough, the subway was filled with hundreds of boozed-up Santas.
And because my touristy feet were killing me, I had to go to the T.J. Maxx on Wall street to buy slippers. I did see the Occupy Wall Street people and asked them if they wanted to occupy T.J. Maxx with me but they (all five of them) looked at me like I was crazy.
Oh, we also walked across the Brooklyn Bridge. Has anyone seen that thing? It’s pretty cool and people should really be aware of it.
Don’t I look serious? I didn’t crack a smile all day.
It’s hard to put a price tag on joy and laughter, but we did: $10.
Actually, four cards for $10. This, and Jen not wearing a top, made our shoppers more giddy than usual.
The Zeichen Press booth was a beacon of laughter bobbing in the sea of wrist-warmers, nose-rings, and ironic Christmas sweaters.
I hid behind our card racks for two days and talked to Jen about important things like iron lungs and Santa Clause while our customers snort-laughed (my favorite kind of laugh). There was even a gal that was laughing so hard she had to stamp her foot on the floor. Those responses made me feel like this:
And I think Jen felt like this:
Finally, a man came up to us and told us all about human exoskeletons. (See blog post #390: Freak-Magnet) Eventually, he rode away on a unicorn.
What I guess I’m trying to say is that the No Coast Craft-O-Rama was, once again, awesome.
PS: No show would be complete without a little danger and ours came in the form of an icy, yet beautiful, drive home.
Jen and I were trying to enjoy the wholesome spirit of the annual Book Arts festival
when Winter walked into the party, tracked snow on the floor, didn’t laugh at my jokes, and clogged the toilet. I wasn’t surprised.
To keep up morale, I invented a pack-less backpack and inflatable underpants. For some reason, this reminded Jen to tell me my fortune. She made one of these:
and filled it with “fortunes.” But I don’t really think they were fortunes.
If only I could play an instrument or sing or get along with a group of people, I would release an album full of music. I can’t do any of those things and so I stand
in my Fortress of Solitude and name imaginary albums. This has been going on for, like, 20 years. Here are a few:
• Liar, You’ve Never Seen the Moon
• Please Don’t Drive Away, My Leg is Hanging Out of the Car
• Why Don’t You Need My Wagon?
• That’s Not Cake (Don’t Eat it)
• He Tries To Control Me With His Eggrolls
And so on.
I will eventually take it a step further and design the album art – a band will come to me and select one and most likely it will go double platinum. I’m pretty sure that’s the way it works.
—
My sister’s wedding was on Saturday
and I cried like a baby because I felt nostalgic. My sister used to watch Lamb Chop’s Play-Along and I really miss Sherry Lewis.
After the ceremony, I dried my eyes and went to the party. There was a lot of drinking and a lot of dancing. And this album cover was created:
I think it would be good for a funk metal group or maybe spoken word.
The intern packed up her carpetbag and rode away. I felt like we should hug but we didn’t – hugs are best left out of print shops. She made this before she left:
Go, my young grasshopper, go and use the life-skills I so generously shared with you.
I regret not jumping into Lake Superior last week. I’m kidding, I don’t regret that. I regret not pushing that weird guy into Lake Superior last week. He was yelling, “the effing dog ate my pills! The effing dog ate my pills!” That poor wiener dog was trying to end its own sad life. Anyway, here’s a photo of Lucy and Jenny braving the frigid waters:
Lake Superior is the poor man’s ocean, just like my Reprex
(notice the vice grips)
is the poor man’s Vandercook.
But I must make do.
I must make do because that’s how I was programmed. The project du jour is a print involving lots of words. And because I’m a daredevil, I decided to lock up the type in a vertical formation. This is not for the faint of heart. The type and I both felt creepy when it was over and now we can’t even make eye contact.
The third instructional video is complete for the Jelly Shot Test Kitchen. If only children could drink alcohol these would be perfect for a Summer birthday party.
I have noticed that a lot of people around me have “plans” and “schedules.” That is something I’ve always wanted. Even my days of “working outside of the home” seemed haphazardous. I never knew if or how I’d get to work – would it be the city bus? My friend’s pick-up truck? A ride from a stranger? On foot? A police escort? Would I be able to pull-off a cup of coffee before work? Everyone talked about that – the coffee. “Whew, I barely had time for my coffee this morning, the dog just wouldn’t do his business!” They had coffee pots with timers – they’d wake up to the smell and sound of a fresh brewing pot. They’d fill their travel mugs and commute to work.
Why couldn’t I be like these people?
My snooze button (invented by the devil) would be pushed at least twice, granting me temporary amnesty – more time to dream about using inappropriately located toilets. A shower could happen but more than likely would not. Teeth brushed just in time to smoke a cigarette and tie my son’s shoes.
I know what you’re thinking: Glamorous.
A few weeks ago, I started doing the unthinkable: Waking up early and not forcing myself to fall back to sleep.
I actually get out of bed.
I get out of bed, make a smoothie filled with micro-nutrients and whole-food concentrate and go for a bike ride. It seems that other people DO THIS TOO. The paths are full of “others.”
I haven’t decided if I hate myself for being one of these people. Time will tell.
Anyway, number 7 of the Shea 8 will be getting married this Summer and she needed a program – I gladly volunteered and these were created yesterday:
They will contain a disc of music from the ceremony. Understated and cool. Just like my sister. Notice my crummy thumbnail in the upper-left.