Zeichen Press – Page 31 – 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

You Can Take the Girl Out of Minnesota

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.

December 13, 2011
Farewell, No Coast OR Joy For Sale

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.

December 5, 2011
I DON’T MEAN TO BE PUSHY

Yes, I do.

That festive, urban craft fair (the�No Coast Craft-O-Rama) is coming up this weekend and if you’ve never been, I will describe it to you:

Have you ever legally died and felt yourself being drawn into the comforting white light?

It’s just like that, only better.

Think Holiday Bazaar. Just kidding. Don’t think that. Think table after table of handmade goodness, guaranteed to provoke gasps and tears of joy.

To get ready for the show, I made these prints for our wall:

And Jen did everything else.

Also, I am thinking about getting my hair done.

November 28, 2011
Surrender and Acceptance

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.

Oh, Jen! You’re such a kidder!

November 19, 2011
Asylum-For-One

Listen, I could break out of this place if I had some sturdy cornhusks, one tablespoon of vaseline, two steel springs, and a puppy.

But do I really want to?

Jen is printing a card

in preparation for the MCBA Festival,�not�the�Mutation Chinchilla Breeders Association�a real thing�but the�Minnesota Center for Book Arts festival. It’s Saturday, November 19th and if you like celebrating books via buying book-like items (handmade paper, journals, our cards) you should totally go.

My contribution to the show is this lovely display signage I designed:

See you there!

November 18, 2011
Endless Game

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.

October 17, 2011
International Internetter

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.

Fred�photographed�the new cards�- here’s my favorite:

That’s a true story.

ALSO:�Becki Iverson�at�Metro Magazine�wrote a nice thing about us. I think we’ll keep giving out that photo until we are 60 years old.

Nobody needs to see a photo of us taken in February.

August 24, 2011
Doing Unspeakable Things With Type

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.

August 14, 2011
First Things First: How To Make A Jelly Shot Blow Pop

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.

Pfft.�Rules.

July 21, 2011
Ad Lib Living

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.

Okay, onto something pretty serious.

Kittens.

Watch:

July 17, 2011