They were born not as two, but one. Cut from the belly of a woman who was hardly human. Her womb, an experimental lab — a petri dish, an incubator of life not fit for earthly habitation. But life, still.
Strange!
No, not strange:
They were born not as two, but one. Cut from the belly of a woman who was hardly human. Her womb, an experimental lab — a petri dish, an incubator of life not fit for earthly habitation. But life, still.
Strange!
No, not strange:
Like Bread & Pickle (LOVE their lattes) but it serves turkey chowder in an air-sickness bag.
Life is full of gratitude and regret. Both should be acknowledged. Hopefully via a Zeichen Press card. I am sure that if we all thoroughly examined our consciences, we would discover a whole room of regret. That room would be furnished with a urine-stained futon, a musty trunk, and an ash tray. That’s sad!
CONVERSELY, the gratitude room is full of Daylilies and cookie jars.
Here are some cards for both occasions: And don’t act like you don’t need both cards.
We still love you.

There was a pet store in my neighborhood (Petcetera) that had all kinds of fascinating creatures. The best creature was a full-size (5 feet, from snout to tip of tail) alligator in a steel tub. The tub had a makeshift screen cover so that the alligator couldn’t escape.
A screen cover.
So the ALLIGATOR couldn’t escape.
I think it was drugged anyway — it just laid there, blinking it’s beautiful eyes.
Of course there were snakes, and I don’t know much about snakes, but what I do know is pretty scientifically accurate. When snakes speak, they drag out their s’s.
They’re usually pretty shy but if you give one a frozen mouse they are your friend for at least 5 seconds.
It was a fat PVC pipe, coated in Crisco, pitched at a 25° angle and suspended over a pit filled with filthy water. A $5 bill was clipped to the high end and my job was to shimmy my way to it. (Why am I always shimmying poles?) With my glasses pushed tight to my face, my stringy blonde hair moved back and forth as I slid myself toward my goal. I wore my lucky shorts — Granny Smith green with pink piping — and “my 4th of July” shirt — red and blue striped off-brand Izod.
A crowd gathered.
I wanted that $5 and the glory that came with it. With that $5, I could buy enough candy to satisfy my aching sweet tooth and with that glory came a lifetime of bragging rights. “The greased pole in the Hollow in Barnstable? Yeah, I did that.”
I entered a competition today. This one does not involve poles, pits, or Crisco. It does involve money and Jen and I have both agreed that we will do (almost) anything for money.

Uncommon Goods invited us to submit designs for an iPhone case and after slathering myself in Crisco, I submitted some designs. I know you’ve seen these before. I’m really into recycling.

I know that Native Americans can anticipate the change of seasons by paying close attention to the subtle signs in nature. I’ve been doing that too.
Sign number one was seeing a rat splattered on the street in front of my house. When the rats crawl out of the sewers it means we are in for a serious drought. Or that I need to move.
Sign number two was seeing a man peeing on the side of my garage. When a man pees on the side of your garage it means that I need to move.
Okay, the school year is fizzling out like a dud of a firecracker and that’s good because I’ve seen those mangled hands and it is difficult to fill in those little SAT bubbles with a nub-hand.
Once Upon A Time, I made the difficult transition from Catholic Grade School to Catholic High School — this meant going from blue and green plaid skirts to brown and gray plaid skirts. THIS meant that I had to inch my way up the school’s flagpole and fly my skirt like a flag.

Just like Hayley Mills (in The Trouble With Angels!) sans cigarette.
It’s not too late to send your favorite graduate from the Class of 2012 a Zeichen Press card stuffed with money!
(You’re welcome, graduates.)
One fully loaded California Job Case weighs as much as I do and I have spent the week proving this.
We are in the process of rearranging the shop and I am in the process of atoning for my sins via physical labor — my hair shirt is at the cleaners and flip-flops don’t hold small rocks like Uggs.
Here’s how it works: I carefully slide one 100 lb case out of the cabinet and onto the floor.
And then I do that, like, 60 more times.
If I realize there is a case of type I need on the bottom of the pile, I simply pick up each and every case on top of that case and create another pile on the floor.
At some point, intern(s) get involved.
Their apprenticeship is very old-school: They sort type/hate me. That’s how they used to do it in the good ol’ days, I’m just trying to keep tradition alive.
They’ll thank me later.
It’s unofficially Summer around here and to celebrate I’m going to make some more prints for Room & Board. People always ask me (no, they don’t) if I feel lonely or maybe a little afraid working out in the studio/shop/time warp at night. But how could I feel lonely or afraid out there when I have all of those cabinets of cold, lead type and Mark Wheat‘s voice coming from the plastic radio?

I hit my head on the asphalt yesterday and when I snapped out of that familiar concussive daze, I thought to myself: Again? And: That wasn’t as bad as running into the tree. Or the windshield. Or the Christmas tree-stand. Or the windshield.
Walking my bicycle and openly weeping, I made it home just in time to work on the new Room & Board project:


Thanks MADGE for introducing me to the Polaroid app for my iPhone!!
“Yeah, you should wear the wig.”
People always ask me, “Fran, how do you balance everything so well?? Zeichen Press, kids, marriage, hypochondria, facebook, animal-taming, daydreaming – It doesn’t even seem possible!” I wish I had some fluffy (Oprah-approved) secret to share but it’s really much more simple: Evil twin. What?! Yes. You’d be surprised by how many people actually have evil twins.
This has been a regular rat king of a week: The big Tanek party is tomorrow and Jen and I have been planning the whole thing – From venue to letterpress printed coaster to life-jackets. One of my favorite things is the Tanek 10 Year CD - a music mix and letterpress printed sleeve/party favor/door prize. My playlist skills were honed as a teenager – hour after hour spent with the dual cassette player… see, mom?? I told you it was more important than algebra.


As soon as this party is done I can get rid of that mannequin.


Yes, well… As you can see, the dog was ready to meet with Room and Board today. We fought over the wig but there’s just no talking to her. I don’t even think the wig looks that great - her fur is a totally different color.
Whenever Room and Board stops out to visit, Jen dumps a case of type onto another case of type. I think it’s a waste of time but Jen loves wasting time – I have to be like, “Jen, quit wasting time.”

Oh, well – the meeting went great (I think they think we’re strange. Maybe the wig was too much??) They told us to make some more alphabet press-type prints.

That’s what they call those. I call them tickets to Cape Cod but that’s none of your business.
The creepy severed head would not discourage us from our very important purchase. The wig will play a small, but pivotal, role in our upcoming film (tentatively titled, Your CPR Hurts My Chest).

Right? We met with half of the “Jelly Shot Test Kitchen” AND if you don’t know what I’m talking about - you soon will. These Edina ladies (why did I italicize that?) answered a pretty serious question: “What would a jell-o shot look like if it grew up?”
Here’s the answer:



A Jelly Shot Test Kitchen “cookbook” (cookbook?) is in the works and they have come to Zeichen Press to help create some buzz. I wonder if it’s because they caught wind of our professionalism. Probably.
Does Geek+Spectacular=Geektacular? I was never good at math but I DO know that the State Fairgrounds are going to be wall-to-wall geeks tomorrow. Jen and I will be there handing out love-letters and hugs to all of our loyal customers.

We went there tonight to set up. This baby has been following Jen around for, like, two years:

Creative, elaborate, polite (but persistent) stalking! Nothing against the creative stalkers out there. You know who you are. Please don’t start re-stalking me.
I sent out the press package for Tanek today, it contained everything but a pan of brownies and a lock of my hair.
I hope Neal St. Anthony likes kittens.

Did I hand set that type?
Yes.

I love getting a letter in the mail – and getting a package in the mail is like finding money under your pillow. Or discovering a coin in a freshly gutted fish.
Reading my email goes like this: delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete… oh, that’s important… delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete, delete.
As you know, Zeichen Press is handling all things that fall into the realm of communications for Tanek Inc. This job is usually less messy than gutting a fish but just as satisfying. Contacting reporters is part of the job and we realized that doing so via email might just be a little bit like whispering to your date across a crowded room. Not that we have dates. Or are ever invited to rooms that are crowded.
Here is the first part of a press package going out to local reporters. (Neal St. Anthony, you lucky devil!)


(Here’s a story: Ken Piper of Tanek was the head designer for the brand-new KMOJ station in North Minneapolis. That’s right: North Minneapolis. Watch out, South Minneapolis – the Northside is picking up steam!)