Zeichen Press – Page 44 – Design & Letterpress for the people.

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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
Every Couple Wants Their Own Postmark

I won’t try to fight it – and why should I?

My youngest sister�

(why is she so angry all the time??) is getting married this weekend and I designed/Jen printed some invitations for the blessed event.

The event will be very celebrity-heavy. By “celebrity” I mean “family.” It will be full of family. You can crash the wedding if you want – but no pictures. Just kidding. Take pictures – I can’t stop you.

July 12, 2011
Kitchen Photo Shoot And a Guest Appearance

Pat Carney�stumbled into our dimension on Friday for the�Gute�photo shoot.

Edmund�made latte after latte while�Loretta�babbled in the background. We think she was talking about Pam the kitten/her prisoner. Anyway, I had to punch Pat in the face to get one latte away from him for a prop. He took it like a man. Except for the tears.

June 5, 2011

You crazy kids and your YouTube!

I know everyone is DYING to see me operating my big-ass press.

Will wonders never cease?�I love you, Internet.

March 14, 2009
COME-N-GIT YER LETTERPRESS

Shu-OOT!! It’s a letterpress extravatacularasm!! This Freitag is gonna be all monster-truck-jam but with no trucks, no face-tattoos, and no NASCAR jackets. WHAT?! How can THAT be any fun?! Don’t tell Scott Parkin but I’m planning to ride in through the double doors and right over his conference table on my pimped-out ATV.�It’s gonna kick so much ass.�

So, it’ll be ME, JEN,�MR. BEN LEVITZ … and I’m sure he’s got some sort of gun-toting design gang. I’ll be wearing a full Kevlar dress, so I’m not even worried. The thing about Kevlar is that it’s light and airy. Just like me.

So, pack your saddle-bags with hard-tack and whiskey, shave your legs, and kiss yer ma’ goodbye – you’re goin to Northeast Minneapolis. Oh, Northeast Minneapolis… so… artsy, so… much… like… Uptown… wishes… it… were… still…

::The Dirty Details::

March 10, 2009
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
Teaching strange children

As we pulled up in the parking lot to our Pre-School Speaking Engagement, Jen reminded me not to swear in front of the children. I told her I would do my best but I wouldn’t make any promises and that sometimes I need to use strong language to really make my point… sometimes I need to use strong language when children REFUSE TO BEHAVE.

I’m kidding. I told Jen to stick it in a hole. She’s not the boss of me. Then she slapped me good and hard. I can’t say that I blame her.

It took a few minutes for the kids to warm up to me. My costume might have confused them. Anyway, I brought a chase locked up with wood type and set it on the floor.

When I was a kid, I saw a kid throw another kid’s shoe into the Primate Den at The Como Zoo. The monkeys approached cautiously but before long they were all over that shoe. They wanted that shoe. I was fascinated. But then I was distracted because of�another�kid. A�mischievous boy who met his match�while trying to climb over a spike-tipped, wrought-iron fence.

I love the zoo.

January 29, 2009
Voodoo

What in the ding-dang are these city-folk up to now??!! Putting pins in good folks and charging money for it?! I got myself some thumbtacks and I can put ’em anywhere you damn well please and charge you half ‘n what these quacks are taking. You mark my words, next there’s gonna be all kinds of potions and maybe even some of that herb smoking. I got news for you:

This ain’t California.

We like our doctors wearing stethoscopes and blue pants. We like our doctors to give us shots when we don’t feel good. We like being sent to the pharmacist. WE LIKE IT.

Oh, flibbity flam. I’ve got some noodlin’ to do. Have a look at some of Fran’s “work” for Performance Acupuncture.
Logos… What the?

January 23, 2009