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.
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.
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.
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.
(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.
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.
BUT a card to celebrate a birth. A birth card? Be bold, new mother! Send out a stack of these and you send out a statement: Don’t mess with me or my baby.
I nearly took that martyr shortcut last night. Jen drove her teeny-tiny Honda and our brand-new printer got to ride shotgun while I sat in the back with Loretta.
She was very busy screaming sweet nothings in my ear, while Jen was trying to drive with an 80 pound boxed laser
printer resting gently on her right hand, her rear-view mirror tilted helpfully at the ceiling. She wasn’t applying make-up so I guess she didn’t really need it. I told Loretta that she was lucky because the last thing she’d ever see was my face. She screamed louder and I handed her my iPhone. Sometimes Jen would ask me if it was “safe” to switch lanes. I always told her yes because in the grand scheme of things isn’t it always safe to switch lanes? We actually made it home. I kissed the ground. Loretta screamed and cried goodbye and they drove away.
I’ve set a goal for myself. 25 birthday cards by January 1. Patina wants more birthday cards and dammit they are going to get more birthday cards. Why am I sucking up to that cutesy pootsy boutique? Because I LOVE IT. Oh, how I love it… If Patina carried a coffin, I would kill myself just to be buried in it.
Here’s a new card. – Designed on the computer, soon to be a plate, soon to be inked, soon to be part of our illustrious line.
By the way, I AM counting the Trader Joe’s rejects in my 25. So, 25-8=17. I used a calculator. Seriously.
Time for more corporate holiday cards! My Big Brother owns Tanek, the coolest (of course) architectural firm in the Midwest. Every year they ask us to bring some of our freshest (dopest) designs to their table. We drop whatever we’re doing (eating) and hop to. This year I’ve created a couple of things:
The humor is subtle. Just like me.
I think this one should have been chosen last year:
But no. It was voted down. Apparently the Tanek Leaders didn’t want to be seen in their fictional underpants. Prudes.
Hot Damn! We finally picked a sales rep! A first-rate group of gals (there is a guy in the group that reps Iowa but he’s on a sort of hiatus – sorry Iowa) that will spread the Zeichen Love across this frigid, northern land. Minnesota, Wisconsin, North Dakota, and South Dakota. I’ve actually never been to North or South Dakota… In fact, I’m not even sure they exist. I’d like some sort of proof. Anyway, our fax machine has been ringing off the hizzle with orders – our biggest so far: Kowalski’s Markets. I love Kowalski’s and I’m not just saying that. My ice cream melts in the cart while I wander around like a free-range chicken. (Before the farmer kills it and Kowalski’s sells it and I eat it. Mmm, delicious.)
I guess that last round of cards I did for Trader Joe’s were tossed into the “maybe” pile for being “too snippy, irreverent, and sarcastic”. That would hurt my feelings if I wasn’t made entirely of gears, microchips, and ice. I figured I better try again. I thought, “what would a nice person want to say to another person that they actually cared for? How can I help facilitate some positive communication that may otherwise be forever unspoken due to awkward shyness or maybe even because of some sort of speech impediment. What if someone has simply taken a vow of silence? I will be their voice.” (Didn’t that totally give you chills? I know, I KNOW. That was totally unrehearsed.) Here are the nicer cards for Trader Joe’s: (Will they benice enough? Stay tuned.)
Umm, the Target Center was a strange, strange place last night. So many jewel encrusted tank tops and hoodies… I felt out of place in my Witch Costume. My friend, Melissa Peterman rocked the house with her comic stylings. To thank her for setting up a meet-n-greet with Kelly and Reba, I made her a set of these:
I was disappointed that Kelly and Reba didn’t arrive on horseback. I did allow them to take a picture with me. An act, I feel, was very much appreciated by both of them. They were thrilled to meet me and asked me all sorts of questions about my lifestyle.
They say this cat Shaft is a bad mother SHUT YOUR MOUTH! I’m talkin’ ’bout Shaft. THEN WE CAN DIG IT!
Brrrrrrrr. Um, brrrrrrrrr. Something (snow) tells me summer is over. I had a VERY busy weekend, there was Kelly Clarkson, then a bunch of stuff, then Don Draper. Oh, yes – I managed to squeeze in a design/letterpress project.
Some Bad Catholic Mothers of OLG (hardcore acronym: Our Lady of Grace) asked me to design a book cover for their Tell-All Confessional. Thanks to Boxcar for their perfect plate and thanks to all you Bad Catholic Muthas out there for your indiscretion and moral ambiguity.
