• 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)fran-ennui

    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.

    coffee-cookie-airtran

    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.

    manhattan-night

    Because traveling underground on a train isn’t strange enough, the subway was filled with hundreds of boozed-up Santas.

    santa-subway-2

    santa-subway-1

    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.

    occupy

    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.

    fran-and-lucy-brooklyn-bridge

    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.

    no-coast-1 no-coast-2

    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:

    beaker

    And I think Jen felt like this:

    dr-bunsen

    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.

    lakestreet-snow-carwash-sign lakestreet-snow-arbys-sign

    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:no-coast-print

    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 festivalmcba-2011

    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:

    closed-fortune

    and filled it with “fortunes.” But I don’t really think they were fortunes.

    open-fortune-arrows-2

    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

    This time of year fills me with greed. Letterpress printed on recycled paper. Comes with coordinating envelope and packaged in cellophane sleeve.

    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:only-losers-santa

    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

    fortress-of-solitude

    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

    cathedral-wedding-2and 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.lambchop

    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:sad-bride

    I think it would be good for a funk metal group or maybe spoken word.

    October 17, 2011
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  • The calm before the sh*t storm

    One of my stalkers used to say, “I’ve gottalotta things in the hopper. A lot. In the hopper.” I often wondered if one of those things in the hopper was making a skin suit out of me. But I never asked – I love surprises. He once chased me on roller skates. I wasn’t even scared. Now, the cab-driver… the stalking cab-driver, he was a little scary. Although… he’d drive by an Old Country Buffet and was so high he’d often forget he was stalking me. He just couldn’t resist the chicken-fried-chicken. 

    But enough of these bedtime stories!

    WE’VE got a lot of things in the hopper: A Logo, Oscar-luncheon-gift-bag-goodies, a show at a gallery, a speaking engagement in front of pre-schoolers, a bat mitzvah invitation, more stupid catalogs. I’m nervous about the speaking engagement. If I make eye-contact with any one of those children they’ll own me. The last thing I need is a room full of kids throwing lead type at my head.

    In preparation for the upcoming events I decided that someone should clean our little shop of horrors. Someone did. Isn’t it cute? *Note the framed photo of Kelly Clarkson next to the hanging hammer.

    Zeichen Press Shop Look SE

    Zeichen Press Look W

    Zeichen Press Hamilton Pull

    January 22, 2009
  • Won’t you be my neighbor?

    Hot Plate‘s Mexican Omelette was again sending me messages. Who am I to ignore them? I just do what I’m told.

    Exhausted from an earlier outing, I had my husband drive our team of horses. I was cozy warm because I stuffed hot potatoes in my pants.

    While I devoured my second Mexican Omelette of the week I chatted with owner, Carrie Lewis. She told me a tale. A tale that reminded me of how dark the soul can be… a tale of the flawed nature of humanity. I openly wept as she about her passive aggressive neighbors. And, as I sipped my 9th delicious latte, I formulated a plan: I would counter the negativity directed at The Best Restaurant on the South Side by channeling the Prince of Peace, Mr. Rogers.

    Who better to handle bad neighborhood karma than him? I can think of no one. I have created this card and will be making a plate asap. Reserve one (or five) today because they will be selling faster than Hot Plate’s pumpkin pancakes.

    Hi neighbor!

    January 19, 2009
  • May my suffering bring you joy

    Only my fellow Minnesotans and residents of Chicken, Alaska can truly understand what it means to be cold. I am intrigued by deadly weather. Cold that can freeze a limb solid. Cold that flattens your car tires. Cold that makes your eyeballs feel funny. I braved the extreme cold today.

    Twice.

    -21° is COLD. But a Mexican Omelette was whispering my name with such longing… I put on every bit of clothing I own and headed outside. The car actually told me to F – Off. I reminded it that we were both in this together and that if it cooperated I would fill it up with Premium Gasoline. Foolish car, choosing gasoline over Mexican Omelette!

    When I was safely inside of Hot Plate I laughed… Oh, how I laughed – and saluted the outdoors for being a worthy adversary. Later that day (that SAME day) I went outside again. I actually ran to the studio. It took 1.5 seconds. Luckily my exposed body part (my bottom) was unharmed.

    Where was I? Oh, yes. I risked my limbs (and bottom) to run to the studio and lay out previously written cards. Three birthday cards. The metal type was awfully cold. I wanted to lick it but I exercised restraint.

    In your own urineGet out of my room.

    My tiny friends.

    January 16, 2009
  • Back in the shop

    The low magenta toner has put a hold on the catalog production. I am really, really upset about it. I’d like to spend more time with the new laser printer. Understanding its quirks, its likes and dislikes. What makes it get out of bed every morning? Does it enjoy being my slave? Don’t worry, Brother HL-4070CDW – this is only temporary. Jen paid the extra $3.99 for shipping and your toner will be here Wednesday. Thank you, Jen. I mean it. 

    So I spent the day in the shop. Despite my tears I was able to lay out some previously written cards. I think the anguish really comes through. I am, after all, an artist. My soul is appropriately tortured. Whoa is me.

    happy-brithday-you-tool

    shhh nobodyll-notice-us

    pevenshire wiffynuts

    i-said-congratulations

    you-make-you-live-good-luck

    January 12, 2009
  • Where’s my unpaid intern?

    WHERE??? If I have to work on this catalog layout for 10 more seconds I’m going to quit my job. I will instantly rehire myself just so I can quit again. This could go on for days. Of COURSE I couldn’t just work with the catalog copy  in Adobe InDesign – I HAD to use a WWII era typewriter. A Smith-Corona Skyriter to type in each individual bit of information about all 100 products. What is wrong with me?

    webskyriter1

     

    I actually cheated in “keyboarding I AND II” in high school. Don’t ask me how. DON’T ASK ME. 

    Jen is just dying to say, “I told you so.” Just shut up, Jen. Why must  you take the place of my underdeveloped sensibilities?

    January 8, 2009
  • Waist-deep snow

    Day Two.   Snow fell through the night and drifted into the passage. The women and children are weaker today. Kenneth is ailing and must be dragged on a make-shift sledge. Robert appears to be delusional and only can speak of thick-cut bacon and death metal. The dogs are starting to look delicious, especially the fluffy one. We are, most certainly, in a predicament.

    Edmund in deep snow

    •••••

    Um, here’s a new card – inspired by the men, women, and children that ventured West .

    Donner Camp

    The Donner (Birthday) Party

    January 4, 2009
  • I’ll tell you what

    Uh. December is, like, over. I don’t even care. Good riddance you ungrateful pig. You think you’re so great with your Christmas and your Hanukkah and your Britney Spears’ birthday. I’ve had it. I think we all have. Even with all of these Feast Days I managed to squeeze in our long-awaited catalog creation. And don’t think I forgot about my 25-birthday-cards. Self-imposed deadlines are the only way to get anything done. You know what else works? Pretending someone is going to kill you if you don’t get something done. SO, I scrounged up some images and wrote some lines. Yeah, yeah – I’ve not set the type or done layouts or pulled any proofs – mere formalities. And anyway, my shop elves will do it while I’m ringing in the New Year in lovely Brainerd, Minnesota. Here are a few images/lines – they’ll be 15% funnier after I’ve had my way with them. And another thing: they’re not all birthday cards. I’m not some sort of one-trick pony.

    Boys playing marbles

    You make this, you live.

    Good luck.

     

    Man with a christmas tree

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    Shhhh. Nobody’ll even notice us.

     

    Very old man

    Eh? What’s that? Whose birthday? Who are you? Get out of my room.
    cutting_plie_26906_lg1 
       Happy Birthday, you tool.
    Man writing
    …and in conclusion – quit calling me a pussy.
    Sincerely,
    Pevenshire Wiffynuts
    _algebra_lg
    x=get me the f*ck out of here.
    Baby banging spoon
    Congratulations.
    I said, CONGRATULATIONS!
    Boy with hoop
    If you’re old enough to remember this game
    you are probably sitting in your own urine.


    Man with microscope
    Thanks for coming to my birthday party, my tiny friends.
    ••••••••••••
    Alright, that’ll do. I’ll post more after the elves work it out. Oh, and if you see a woman running around Brainerd in giant underpants and Sorel Boots it’s not me. Happy New Year!!!

     

     

     

     

    December 31, 2008
  • No-Coast and a stock pot

    Good Lord, what a day! I got up at the crack o’ eight – Jen picked me up and brought me to the MidTown Market to hawk our goods. It was the No-Coast Craft-o-Rama! We were pretty much SiameseTwins – due to my crippling Math Anxiety, I can’t be left alone to make change for a twenty. I welcome your prayers. I smiled lots and said, “four dollars” or “five dollars” whenever I felt like it. Sometimes it was in response to a customer’s question. Here are some customers: notice their intense cheerfulness:

    three-females-at-our-table

    three-males-at-our-table
    I did manage to step away from our table to find a crinkly cat bag for My Mother-in-Law. She’s gonna frickin’ love it. Those cats are gonna thank me by walking by me and not noticing I exist. It’ll be one awesome Christmas.

    …Fast forward, like, eight hours and I found myself at a delightful Holiday Party. I think it was in Plymouth. Anyway, the halls were decked, the booze was flowing. The booze was flowing. In retrospect, I don’t think it all wanted to be in my body. I’m not sure why, at the time, I thought it did want to be in there. And honestly, there wasn’t a lot of  room, what with all the spanakopita . I was planning on giving it all up in a stock pot that Katie generously donated to the car. I felt the love. I did make it home, with a clean stock pot, and Kenny dumped me into bed. He was like a hunter and I was like a deer carcass. The bed was the pick-up truck. It was so much fun. I dragged my sorry arse out of bed this morning to for churching. The stock pot is a symbol of one woman’s redemption. So much can happen in a day.

    stock-pot-with-bulletin

    PS: Did you know that 80’s glasses are back in style?? You crazy kids!80s-glasses

    December 7, 2008
  • SO. MANY. WORDS.

    Three 10″x15″ iron chases locked up with Touchpoint Buzzwords. Buzzwords and some other random cuts from the ZP collection – including a chunk from a newspaper insert advertising handy items for the ladies: A rubber-lined shopping bag available in gay plaids, a multi-tiered clothes hanger, a cap to protect the hairdo. What I wouldn’t give to have those items. My drab, rain-soaked groceries… My closet, crammed full! How could I be hanging my clothes on ONE plane? My hair, My God, my hair… I don’t even know where to start. I get a “do” and leave it completely unprotected. It’s like I don’t even care! Oh. Back to the Touchpoint Holiday Card/Disc Sleeve. It’s super sweet:

    Touchpoint Mixpak

    December 3, 2008
  • SO. MANY. WORDS.

     Three 10″x15″ iron chases locked up with Touchpoint Buzzwords. Buzzwords and some other random cuts from the ZP collection – including a chunk from a newspaper insert advertising handy items for the ladies: A rubber-lined shopping bag available in gay plaids, a multi-tiered clothes hanger, a cap to protect the hairdo.

    What I wouldn’t give to have those items. My drab, rain-soaked groceries… My closet, crammed full! How could I be hanging my clothes on ONE plane? My hair, My God, my hair… I don’t even know where to start. I get a “do” and leave it completely unprotected. It’s like I don’t even care!

    Oh. Back to the Touchpoint Holiday Card/Disc Sleeve. It’ super sweet:

    Touchpoint Cd Sleeve
    Touchpoint Cd Sleeve
    Touchpoint Cd Sleeve
    Touchpoint Cd Sleeve

    December 3, 2008
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