I see it! October 13th is the Dim Light at the End of the Dark Tunnel… The Big Day.
The last day to vote for us.
Despite my well documented crippling math anxiety, 
I’ve done some calculations: 4 days of voting remaining x 6 votes per day = 24 votes per person.
You better double-check that number/go vote! <–That’s the link!
I barely wept with gratitude when I found out Minnesota Business Magazine wanted to write about Zeichen Press for Martha Stewart’s American Made competition… And when Minnesota Business Magazine writer, Erica Rivera, told me to hush my pretty mouth so she could interview me, I did hush my pretty mouth. I do as I’m told. I DO.
Anyway, Erica wrote this masterpiece:
And then I scooped the litter box.
AND here’s a page about litter boxes from my STILL UNSOLD book:
Remember how I promised that when my painkillers wore off, I’d make a card based on The Lung Collapsing Event? It turns out that I only needed them for a couple of days and flushed the rest ~ DON’T GET ANY IDEAS ~ and then I made this breakup card:
Recovering from a collapsed lung is the perfect time to learn all about hashtags.
Thank you, lung!
I obsessively tweeted and nagged everyone on Facebook. I’M SORRY EVERYONE.
Wait, #HelpMe.
It’s been a trending/not-trending rollercoaster-week for Zeichen Press…
YOU MUST REALLY BE SUFFERING!
But may the best (wo)man (named Fran and Jen) win. Did I mention that you have to vote 6x every day through October 13th? And did I mention that my doctor told me that my other lung will collapse if we don’t win??
PS: I made a new Mother’s Day card…
Running for student council vice president of my Freshman class was so stressful! Our platform was twofold:
1) Instruct — and therefore unify — our class via a comprehensive Class Cheer: “Nine-tee! Nine-tee! Ninetyninetyninety nine-tee!!! YAYYYY!!”
2) Oh, I guess it was only a onefold platform…
NEEDLESS TO SAY, votes were cast, and I won. It was a real nail-biter.
SPEAKING OF VOTING, you can finally start voting for Zeichen Press here!
And you can (and should!!) vote 6x per day! SIX TIMES. PER DAY.
Yikes! That sounds scary!
Lungs are not supposed to collapse, but that’s what makes life so exciting! Sunday mornings could be all jejune French toast and bacon, OR they could be all ambulance and emergency surgery.
(I was just as stoic as the woman in the above illustration while they performed my surgery. Eyes wide open, no tears.)
Life is so full of twists and turns!
There is nothing like having your very own chest tube — my aunt said it was my friend. And indeed it was! My little friend with a one-way valve who caused me nothing but suffering. After just two days, the doctor pulled my friend out of my chest — and again, like the woman in the illustration: I was stoic, with eyes wide open and no tears.
I’ll write a card about this as soon as my painkillers wear off.
It might be. I’m going to have to credit Martha Stewart with sparking the mainstream revival of the craft. Everyone settle down. If Martha and I ever met (someday on NBC 11:00AM CST) I would burst into tears. She’d slap me across the face and tell me to get ahold of myself. Oh, Martha! You always know just what to do! Zeichen Press has designed and printed its share of wedding related invitations – and we’re pretty certain that gives us some sort of carbon-neutral status. How? It’s pretty complicated – something to do with joy and decency neutralizing our usual gaucheness.
Oh, Martha Stewart!
I wish I could believe that you were following Zeichen Press on Twitter because of the recycled Panko Japanese Style Breading box/press kit I sent you last August…
Or because of the letterpress art print I sent you last October…
Or the baby I sent you last November…
We’ll be shooting our opening film using (surprise!) something that pre-dates my birth.
Didn’t I learn my lesson with that stupid typewriter?
Okay, let’s call her “Sheila” and let’s call him “Franz Ferdinand.”
She resented every one of his hair-plugs. Row after row of weak little sprouts – such an offensive landscape. Each bloody little ring contained 4-5 “transplant hairs,” the math was easy enough – she figured that each stubby hair cost $7.40. Her pre-taxed, hourly wage at the Seed-N-Feed was $7.45 – barely enough to cover the cost of a single hair.
He had convinced her that the new hair would make him a better dancer. She knew now that it did not – his “moves” reminded her of the farmhands baling hay. Each jerky swinging of his arms nearly punching her in the stomach.
His unemployment was running out and now, thanks to this unwise investment, they would have to move into his mother’s trailer. Her whole life she wanted to be a professional dancer and had been searching for the perfect partner – why hadn’t she listened to her gut or that certified psychic that really seemed to understand her? Still, she danced with him – her graceful movements, her twirling skirt – he would have been captivated by her beauty if he wasn’t so fixated on the pounding in his chest.
°°°°°
Wow! We all know what happens next. Thank the Lord she knows CPR and that despite the bitterness the hair-plugs caused, she still wanted to keep him alive. Sheila and Franz Ferdinand might just make it.
People (my mom) always (whenever she feigns interest) ask me, “where do you get this stuff?” Type, cabinets, printer’s cuts, ink, chases, quoins, sticks, cutters, furniture, leads, slugs, tympan, rollers… letterpress takes up a lot more space than this tidy little laptop. I wonder if that’s one of the reasons people stopped using it? I doubt it.
Jen and I both agreed that our favorite salvaging-situation involved a compulsive hoarder with a murder/torture-pit (alleged) in his basement. This house had it all; two commercial espresso machines:
two Kluge Printing Presses:
(just in case you’re wondering: TWO Kluge Printing presses are massive and would look like this if not covered in books, dvd’s, televisions, kleenex boxes, grocery bags, magazines and mail):
a family-style restaurant booth: (this suspiciously barricaded the basement door)
dozens of old computers: (so sentimental)
“stackable” type cabinets: (we took these)
and this:
and this:
Oh, here’s a fun game:
Can you find the treasure in this photographic vignette?:
How about here?:
°°°°
Oh, well. Enough of the sweet, sweet memories. Here’s part of our latest salvage:
I loved when Mom would get out the Scotch-tape and add my latest work to the dining room wall.
I’m not sure if one day she ran out of paper or tape – but she also let me paint right on the windows and the refrigerator.
I spent the last 10 weeks art directing Tanek’s new website. It was very similar to painting on the refrigerator except without paints or a refrigerator. I worked on the project with my old boss. Don’t confuse this old boss with another old boss I had at the Leeann Chin in Richfield, circa 1989.
You can go look at the new Tanek site. It’s not painted on the fridge or hanging on the dining room wall but it’s still super awesome. You can really build with the masthead blocks! … Actually, that gives me an idea… build something cool, take a screen grab and e-mail it to Zeichen Press - WHY? I’ll pick the best one, send out some fancy letterpress cards to the winner and publish it on the blog.
HEY! This is fun!
The other day, I needed to learn how to make a potato gun. It doesn’t matter why. Anyway, I made my way to the MAKE Magazine blog - If you haven’t been – I don’t know what to say. It’s not like we can’t be friends. It will just never be more than that.
So, they are doing this Maker Business Series and I thought, “hey, I make things… I own a business…” The potato gun would just have to wait. Sorry Edmund. …I sent an e-mail to someone named Gareth (Jen keeps referring to Gareth as “her” – I don’t have the heart to correct her) and told him about Zeichen Press – he responded and then it turned into an interview and… Go read it!!
I try so hard. Really, I do. I try to follow the rules.
I’m jealous of those people (is it everyone?) that climb out of bed at a respectable hour, get dressed, fuss with their hair, apply make-up, brush their teeth, read the paper, make and drink a cup of coffee…
In high school, my morning carpool (I say “carpool” but really it was just my friends carting me around like some sort of package. A smoking, swearing package) would lay on her horn outside my house while I lay in my bed – dreaming that I was missing tests because I was laying in bed dreaming that I was missing tests.
