Artist by Nature, Books by Design

On the shelf

“Finishing a good book is like leaving a good friend.” – William Feather

By Rachel on June 2, 2017

Adieu MyPublisher, it was the best of times, it was occasionally confusing times, but you and I made histories together and I will always be grateful for our shared experience.

I will leave reviewing to reviewers and just say, despite learning curves and typical graphic designer frustrations when working with clunky (yet cutting edge!) technology, MyPublisher took photo book making to a new level of quality and affordability.

Thought I’d share some projects I did using this company as a farewell to them.

My latest book project was for my Aunt who invited me to Denver last year. She is a get-up-and-go kind of gal and exploring with her was a (well organized) blast. We sought adventure on mountain tops and city streets, memorials, art galleries, art therapy studios, Gardens of the Gods, Lutheran church services, and a few good restaurants. (Although I think we ate just as well at home. We are alike in our panache for frugal grocery store excursions turning into not just one meal, but breakfast and lunch the next day and even a re-imagined dinner or two after that.)

Note the photo of both of us on the summit of Pikes Peak. Photoshop skills come in handy when you can’t find someone to take a photo for you.

Haiku on back cover: “Radiant sun shines through thin, blue skies, filling us with new energy”

The most helpful lessons I learned about making books for clients happened while creating a vacation book for a (well humored and extremely patient) good friend. She and her family are world travelers and they really know how to do it right. I felt like I was traveling with them while working on her book.

“Little by little, one walks far” Peruvian proverb

My first ever book project with MyPublisher was for a trip I was fortunate enough to take with my dad and brother in 2014. I made it way too big however. Turns out 15″ x 11.5″ doesn’t fit easily on a shelf. But, it was such a big trip in my life that I think I needed the book to feel big too. I still look through it regularly. I mean, who gets to travel with their 70 year old dad and basically only see the back of his head because he’s always several paces ahead of you? Who gets to watch Hamlet at the Globe Theater and Richard the IV part 1 at the Royal Shakespeare Company with two dudes who read EVERY WORK SHAKESPEARE WROTE? Who gets to drink Leffe Ruby in Paris as the sun sets or spend a day with over 90 VanGogh paintings? I will never forget the grand and glorious time we three spent together. Nor will I have to with this book.

These aren’t the only books I’ve created through this book maker, but they are some of my favorites. Nature abhors a vacuum according to Aristotle and so it goes that there is no shortage of photo book companies to take it’s place. I’ll showcase my new favorite next week.

Kinda makes you want to see that trip you took a few years ago in print doesn’t it? Or maybe you’re traveling this summer and would love a quick turn around on getting it off your devices and into your hands sans blue screen.

I’d be honored to work with you.

Father's Wisdom

“Boredom is a choice” – Stan Crapo

By Rachel on May 24, 2017

Stan the Man and young Rachel at her home office circa 1980

Oh how I hated that overused yet true-every-time phrase. If I had let it sink in that boredom really is a choice, I could have avoided the many thousand repetitions that landed on my childhood ears. Despite the obvious wisdom, I didn’t stop complaining about being bored until I was dealing with the adventures and stresses of life on my own. Now I have a kid who’s taken up the torch. And somehow, I’ve let boredom creep back into my life.

It’s not like I’m short on things to do – important things. Things I need and want to do. So many of them are exact repeats of what I’ve done the day before, what I’ll do tomorrow, or even in an hour. I often find comfort in daily rituals, but lately I’ve experienced a troublesome level of ennui in them.

I did some extensive researched (45 seconds worth) and found this interesting article about boredom, some points:

– People need to have a reasonable level of psychological energy or arousal to feel bored. When people have low arousal and there is not much happening, they often feel relaxed.

– Boredom typically occurs when people have trouble focusing their attention and they believe the reason for this difficulty is in the environment.

– Bored people become aware of their difficulty concentrating.

Well OK. I’m not using my energy wisely. I’m blaming the confines of family life (which I absolutely cherish and am grateful for) as an excuse to not do things that bring me joy. No one at home is requiring my full attention anymore, I can stop wandering around waiting to be needed. I’ve been so mentally complain-y about my boredom that it’s blocked my view.

I’ve got projects upon projects that should be finished by now – ideas for stories percolating – a room full of art supplies, and a designated space ready and full of sunlight. WHY THE HELL AM I PROCRASTINATING?

I’ve got to tame my social media trigger finger. Too much ingested sludge. Seeing what others create is not the same as creating. There are funny, beautiful bits on social media, but there are funnier, more beautiful bits in my house. (Man + boy + dogs + cat + chickens = hilarious!)

And the news, Lawd have mercy, the news. Unless I’m making it, enough. A little KOOP instead? None of the hits all of the time – perfect! Or equally as wonderful – silence.

I’ve re-engaged with my meditation practice, too, and it’s doing wonders for my ability to concentrate. A dear life-line friend introduced me to the magical voice of David Ji via SoundCloud and it works to calm the brains.

After a whopping three days on a media cleanse and great relief is settling in. I’ve doodled, written, exercised, and stared at walls without malaise. I’ve moved into the sweet spot of flow while working. Evenings spent playing games with my two dudes is fun again.

So, thanks Dad, for reminding me over and over that I am in control of myself. That I can choose daily to be bored or engaged. That consistency is powerful. He has been my best example of how sheer will and hard work are the building blocks of the life you want.

I will end with another famous Stanism –

“Let’s rock and roll sports fans!”

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Treasures

“Keep only those things that speak to your heart.” – Marie Kondo

By Rachel on May 19, 2017

The ice cream cone pens still retain a slightly vanilla smell, which should probably be alarming though I find it somehow comforting.

I am quoting Marie Kondo in jest because this post is about finding treasures I’ve saved since sixth grade. Not that I take her ideas lightly, I own her book and have applied her method to my wardrobe. Er, part of my wardrobe. My tops actually. Just my tops. Took all day. (I still couldn’t let go of my collection of hot/cute/tiny T-shirts I wore during my stint as a bartender in Manhattan. Guess they still bring me joy?) Anyway.

For the record, one could only qualify me as a hoarder if I didn’t know what I had and where it was. Since I do however, it seems more likely that I am a great keeper of treasures. Such as this sweet box of notes from middle school.
My best friend from third grade, Kim (Morris the Cat as we called her) and I (Strawberry as we called me) made these boxes to house our in-class correspondence. We wrapped our boxes using the same paper. Hers had purple cats on top and pink below and I, the opposite. We were cleaver that way.

And what treasures I did find!

I don’t know if every middle schooler created cartoon versions of themselves, but Kim and I had a rich history of drawing with and for each other. I eventually moved to Texas and we became avid pen pals. I still have her beautiful letters (of course), neatly penned, well illustrated and full of little cut out bits from magazines and hand drawn E.T. and Fraggles.

One of my many sticker collections. And yes, I still collect them. They are so fun! I never stick them!

Shaun Cassidy? Oh yes… one of my many teen crushes… Da Doo Ron Ron me.

I was once advised by a friend (we’ll call her Kris) to let go of the extraneous stuff and paper in my life and experience the lightness of being minimalist. Why I would ever listen to such rubbish is only because she housed a large quantity of my life in her garage when I moved to New York. That, and, she herself lived a gorgeously minimalist life.

Each Texas visit I went to Kris’s to see my stuff. I have a vivid memory of sitting on her living room floor with a large box of correspondence from college summers, high school writing projects, love letters, band flyers and a paper trash bag. Kris’s vision was for me to make a haul to recycling or fuel a back yard burn pile. Instead I lovingly read each piece of paper, remembering where I was when I first read or wrote it, confronted with parts of my life I had forgotten or just wasn’t ready to forget. It was exhausting and I didn’t get far.

I gave up trying to let go and told Kris I would definitely for sure get my stuff on my next trip. (For the record, it stayed there until my eventual husband picked it up on his way to meet me in Durango for our eventual life with our eventual child. So, four and a half years in total. Thanks Kris!)

Why did I hang on to so much paper? My Psych 101 training tells me that moving around so much as a kid created a need for such an extensive paper trail. My memory has never been particularly strong and with so many chapters to tie together – so many addresses, schools, friends in different states – saving paper was a way to help keep it all straight.

Here I am, 15-ish years later, digitizing my paper trail and wondering – is the box meaningful? Is it necessary? Does it speak to my heart? Does it take up psychological space I could be using for something else? Should I burn it and find out? Maybe I’ll just read all the notes first… then decide.

Typo Lessons

“Yield to death rather than betray trust” – Pruis Mon Quam Falleri Fidem

By Rachel on May 10, 2017

I’ve decided to air my shame about something that’s been nagging me for a while now. There are two things really, but I’ll start with this one first. It’s been rotting in my creative garden, hindering new growth so I’m digging it up, airing it out, and putting it in the compost. To do that, I must tell the story of how I missed a typo.

I once spent a very good amount of time and focus to make a book for dear family friends. I traveled to their house in southern Colorado, sorted through their photos then scanned and scanned and scanned. It was a gift for my friend’s mother and he wrote beautifully all he knew of his parents. We went over family information, sorted through military medals and accolades, family crests and geneologies. We considered how to approach the ever painful event of losing a child. It was an intimate process and one I will treasure. He is one of my dad’s all time best friends and favorite people, so it was an added treat to drink wine at night and discuss ol’Stan in loving ways.

I returned home to Brooklyn, hit my basement office, and set to work making a book.

I created a time line and organized images into categories accordingly, then worked on thumbnail sketches of page layouts – my favorite part.

Drawing out the book is fun because I feel ideas in my hands for a moment. As the book takes shape and the bird’s eye view fills out, it sets the pace of the book. It becomes a little mini map that tells how many pages are allotted for ancestors or weddings or babies or what have you.

This was before the time of oline book making companies so I utilized the digital print shop I previously worked for in Dallas. They took care of printing (on two different kinds of papers), collating, trimming, delivery to the binder, pick up from the binder and shipping. The binder was this amazing craftsman I met while setting up a wedding book product years before. I’d experienced his handy work with my own eyes and hands.

I delivered a gorgeous, leather bound family heirloom along with a cool mother’s day card for him to give to his mum, and got paid a real money – $3,000! After the cost of production for five books (four for he and his family, one for me) my take away was a little over $2,000. It was difficult to ask for at the time, but I swelled with pride when I deposited that check – even made a copy of it for posterity. Great pay for good work.

Except BLAM. Mudder flippin typo. Right there on the opening page. A relative billboard set in huge letters, alone on the page with a graphic. Nothing to divert the eye from the blaring stain on an otherwise perfect project.

To make it worse, I only realized it a couple of years ago – too many miles past the last rest stop for being able to fix or replace it easily or cheaply. The thought of this book with it’s ugly mishap living in people’s houses – my friends! – turns my stomach.

How could I have missed it? Why didn’t anyone say anything? What is the lesson here? I have been secretly, relentlessly, shamefully asking myself these questions.

The answer is – I didn’t ask for help. All I needed was one other human to read through and it would have been golden. I lived with a trained writer for crying out loud, working in HER basement apartment!

So, what to do about it? I’ve been debating this for awhile. Wait for the mud to settle and the water to clear and sometimes opportunity will create a course of action for you.* Through an upcoming opportunity, I will be able to connect with new folks who may also be interested in heritage style books. Meaning – time to create new samples… of this book… with NO typos! What a wonderful day when I can deliver revised copies to my friend and finally breath easy.

In the mean time – I’ll ask for help more often. There’s no shame in that, only the honor of having someone else’s expertise.

*I just discovered this gem of wisdom:

“Do you have the patience to wait

Till your mud settles and the water is clear?

Can you remain unmoving

Till the right action arises by itself?”

― Lao Tzu

Yearbooks

“There is an endearing tenderness in the love of a mother to a son that transcends all other affections of the heart” – Washington Irving

By Rachel on May 4, 2017

Cover art for our yearbook, created by a 5th grade talent

Every year I volunteer at my son’s school for various things. It’s been one of my favorite parts about being a mom – playing with kids. I’ve lead many art projects and built photo booths and helped throw parties. I’ve been a room parent, done gratis graphic design work, lead class experiments; field trips of course, as well as stuffed envelops, cut paper for teacher projects, hung art on walls, delivered teacher appreciation gifts, helped students create art for fundraisers…. created class books for fundraisers. Wow. Listing all of this I suddenly realize where my energy has been for the last seven years!

The yearbook has been one of my favorite gigs, and as I’ve stopped doing the other volunteer stuff, I know I can’t quit the yearbook. (Except for the fundraiser art. I loved designing those books so much I started a business doing it.) It’s such a satisfying role to just be there observing and collecting images of what I see on field trips and during class presentations and school performances. Culling photos with a narrow focus. Eyes open on this one, smile blurry on that one, a quick photoshop fix and a better group photo emerges. Laying out pages is my kind of puzzle. Balancing size, shape, content, kids, and events is a truly fun challenge.

I like having a place to land my photos and the other great shots parents and teachers contribute. The collection is the fun part. And I get to see them in print for the rest of time. I spaz out on my kid’s personal pages and include his art and school work, travel pictures, birthday parties, sleep overs, sports, a couple family shots and at least one picture of each pet. He ends up with a complete story of the year for his memories to root.

This little visual timeline of my son’s school life and all these great kids he spends his days with, all the ways his teachers work their asses off to get them to think on their own – it’s some of my most satisfying photography.

What a gratifying opportunity to watch their faces evolve from plump ‘lil kid cuteness into angular adult-like good looks, their expressions deepening and humor developing in jolts. Their questioning and pushing and expanding in ever growing waves. Independence in a tenuous tug-of-war with baby-like emotional neediness and dramatic flair ups. I get to witness my son’s life as it exists in the context of so many personalities.

I am both in the middle of their energy, welcomed because I offer gifts of pictures, and outside of it, where kids prefer adults be, because I spend much of my time with a lens between us. They have grown accustomed, immune really, to my fluttering in and out of their peripherals, poking in here and there. I never tell them to smile and I often don’t tell them where to look.

As my son sprints towards twelve, so does his want and need for independence. I am losing power over him. Not my influence certainly, but I no longer have the power to hold his attention for days at a time. I knew it was coming and I’m not regretful or sad. I had my time in the mud puddle and I’m still in the classroom and when I’m relegated to obligatory phone calls, I hope I am equally as busy as he. But for now, he still wants to show me things and tell me about what this one kid said or try a magic trick or experiment with me. And he still spends his summers flipping through the latest yearbook, a small vestige of my time in his world.

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Journals

“We should all have one person who knows how to bless us despite the evidence, Grandmother was that person to me.” – Phyllis Theroux

By Rachel on April 26, 2017

Eye watering Japanese silk and paper journal from Kozo Arts (sadly now gone).

It doesn’t take much to turn my head when it comes to beautiful paper. The day I found myself drooling over hand made journals I truly didn’t need was the day I decided my grandparents definitely DID need them. Who wouldn’t want to fill a journal for their earnest granddaughter in their spare time?

I chose a handsome but simple leather journal for my grandpa and this lovely Kozo Arts journal for my grandmother. I found them last summer after the passing of my grandmother. Turns out they weren’t the journaling type. My grandpa didn’t write a word, and my grandmother made one entry. But it’s lovely and her loops of ink warm me up.

If you have ever been called ‘My Dearest Wonderful’ by your grandmother, then you know what it is to experience the sweetest feelings of love. I had the great fortune of enjoying many years of bonafide friendship with my grandmother. She spoke lovingly about her grandmother, and she infused her with a sense of self worth while growing up.

Before I knew my grandparents wouldn’t be filling books for me, I dedicated my first hand made journal to grandma as well. I was so thrilled to have actually made something both useful and beautiful, I had to give it to someone who would make it more precious.

The idea behind this journal was more of an exchange. I would write in it, send it to her and she would write back. The exchange only went one way though. I wrote several entries, mailed it, then picked it up on my next visit. I only did that a couple times before my new little family eventually became neighbors with she and grandpa. No need for journals when I could come over for coffee instead.

I’m finally at an age where I look forward to being a grandmother one day. I hope I can fill the petite but mighty shoes that came before me, offering guidance, humor, wisdom, friendship.

I think I’ll do one thing differently though. If asked to share my inner workings I’ll write and write and write.

Rumi

“Let yourself be silently drawn by the strange pull of what you really love. It will not lead you astray.” – Rumi

By Rachel on April 19, 2017

You know when you have important, difficult, unavoidable tasks to do, suddenly doing the laundry feels urgent – inspiring even? Yeah. I’m quitting that habit. Big life time goal for 2017.

Instead, this week, when I had important, difficult, unavoidable tasks to do, I decided making notebooks was what was missing from my life. And what better reason than… uuuuu… oh! My second cousin’s 6th birthday!

To be fair to myself (another life goal, being fair to myself dammit) I wasn’t procrastinating so much as adding more to my agenda for the week. I did in fact get my important, very effing difficult, unavoidable work done and then felt giddy making this lil bookie poo while half watching a movie. It was blissful really.

I recently set an intention to give my hands more meaningful work to do. Not that food, driving, computer, laundry, cleaning, shopping, laundry, driving and personal hygiene aren’t meaningful work. Nothing is more meaningful than a good tooth brushing. But maybe more – fun work.

Part of what made this project fun is that I didn’t do all of it at the same time or at the last minute. I did it a little at a time over several days. I let myself enjoy the process of making decisions, considering size and shape options, digging for other fun bits, admiring it on my floor and allowing it to take shape.

Keeping my hands busy kept old mental habits at bay which was refreshing. Holding the resulting gift was gratifying. And, I finished it on time – mini goal accomplished! Little gust of wind in my sails!

Maybe I’ll make a couple more. No hurry though.

I bought this sweet stationary at my favorite (now defunct) whatsit store in New York, Pearl River. So many years of finding treasures there!

One side is printed with a partial floral design, the other side, the rest of the design. When you hold it to the light it makes a complete color image.

Oh the joy of half watching Harry Potter while you poke holes through dense, fiber matter and then stitch it together.

Super simple 3- hold stitch binding. The cover is a craft card stock of some sort from the depths of my supply closet. Cut 3 covers per one 8.5 x 11″ sheet.

Added a couple slices of sticker sheets from the scrap drawer and added my name on back. Book final size is about 3″x3″

Thanks Busy Hands! You’re awesome!

Grandmothers

“A woman is the full circle. Within her is the power to create, nurture and transform.” – Diane Mariechild

By Rachel on April 12, 2017

Behind me, on a shelf above my head, sit two worn, wooden frames containing images of beautiful young women. Both would one day become my grandmother.

I have had the great fortune of knowing grandparents, great grandparents, and even great great grandparents in my life. Each informing who I am to some degree. Each offering me clues about what I’m capable of. They are the people who created my family and who formed me within my family.

There is one I could not know, however, and she too has formed me.

My maternal grandmother, Vavo Lionelha, died when her oldest child was 15 years and her youngest was 8 months. Her legacy has been fraught with sorrow, but also unwavering faith and diligence.

As her children were left with an ever expanding void, the way each filled that void became their own journey. Through those efforts, her grandchildren were blessed with unquantifiable gifts. I’ve always felt that way about my brother and cousins. There is something rich in our blood and we are fortified by our shared experiences through her.

It is precisely due to Vavo Lionelha’s absence that an interest in family took such a hold of me. I cannot calculate the number of hours I have spent listening to my parents, aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents tell and re-tell stories of their lives. I have been mining the wisest of them for intel since I was old enough to realize I knew nothing of great value.

And why, partially, I became very close to my paternal grandmother, Grandma Esther. We shared a friendship beginning when I went to college and lasting for my entire adult life.

When finally she couldn’t say my name, I spent our time locked into her milky grey stare, telling her every wonderful thing she did for me, gave me, or said to me. I told her over and over how much I learned about being a friend, mother, and daughter from her. She didn’t recognize many people in her last year of life, but she knew me. Her face lit up the moment our eyes met and my heart lit up too.

Both of my grandmothers have been a strong voice in my internal narrative. Their mysteries and familiarities mine to access for life.

I’ve had those framed pictures up for decades giving me comfort, strength, and a little day dreaminess.

With the glow of their very promising lives shining on their faces, they are fearless and hopeful.

They look the way I feel sometimes.

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Birthday Gift

“You don’t give up, do you?” – Red Skull, Captain America

By Rachel on April 5, 2017

I’ve said yes! and Yes!! and YES!!! to so many projects I have a back log decades long. No joke. Sketches and mock ups, partial layouts and plans that only exist in my mind’s eye.

I’ve slowly started moving through them – finally. The feeling of being overwhelmed subsiding ever so little, but only if I focus on what is right in front of me.

If I think for even a moment of the many promises waiting to be fulfilled on the shelf behind me, the flow shuts down and I run off and start a load of laundry or a deep clean of the bathrooms.

I’ve had a creative mentor and business accountability partner for almost a year now and she has profoundly influenced my ability to focus, prioritize, accept, and move through the b.s. I put in my own way. And, there’s nothing like a deadline, self imposed or someone else’s, to clear the plate. Like say, your kid’s best buddy’s birthday.

Last year, a dear friend’s son found out he had diabetes, landing him in the hospital for a short time and putting his family in a whole new relationship with carbs. Shortly afterward, he tested positive for Celiac disease. Double crap (gluten free) sandwich.

His class made creative and hilarious cards and after a going through, my friend handed them to me to ‘do something with.’ My mind was a whirl. I scanned and cleaned them up right away then sat on ideas for an entire year.

I count her as one of my favorite people because there are no feelings of unmet expectations with her – which also accounts for why she is such a marvelously relaxed mother of three. I didn’t feel guilt around her, but there were many times I wanted to mention, lie really, that I would have those cards back to her any day now.

When she opted to celebrate a full year of her son successfully managing two huge lifestyle changes with an over night at a dude ranch, I found my deadline. The form took shape quickly (a poster!), the work was quick (scanning and cleaning done months ago!), and the flow took over. I had the 36″ x 24″ poster printed at Miller Imaging and Digital Solutions in half a day and delivered the gift on time.

If you’ve seen Captain America, the First Avenger, you know who Red Skull is, but you may have missed how ridiculous he sounds as he threatens the Captain saying, ‘You don’t give up, do you?!’ Or maybe you just need 10 year olds to reenact it over and over and over until you can’t help but chuckle every time you hear it. That phrase became a comical mantra after we all watched the movie together last summer.

Seems appropriate for a kid who proved he was stronger and more adaptable than he knew. And for anyone with the chutzpah to keep at life, art, love, work, adventure, even when the tasks at hand are daunting. All we really need is a good friend, a mentor, and our sights set directly in front of us.

Jen Sincero

“If you want to live a life you’ve never lived, you have to do things you’ve never done.” – Jen Sincero

By Rachel on March 29, 2017

That feeling of utter glee when you spend time with a book about the beauty and fun of great design of… books. (and other various paper bound items)

I had that pleasure this weekend in Houston’s sweet Brazos Bookstore. Books are displayed by their covers around the walls rather than their spines and it creates a museum like experience, except you can touch and smell and cradle all of the pieces on display. Kind of a petting zoo for book lovers.

The books closest to the light of the large front window were a variety of design books and I was drawn in that direction instinctively. Bells and Whistles, Printing with Special Effects literally winked at me so I picked it up and opened its matte white cover with embedded gold foiled text.

Purring as I flipped, image after image of three dimensional paper and ink sculptures cast as promotional materials tickled my brains for a good long while. My RealMe voice said, ‘See – it’s right here – exciting graphic design!’ and my MeanMe voice disappeared under the thunderous bass of vibrating confidence.

Once home, I found the the sketch above from over a decade ago, my dream life as I envisioned it at that time. What I wanted to strive for. Looking at it now, I realize I have several of these things in place. Short of that belly dancing hobby I haven’t picked up yet and and a few major publishing and travel goals, I’m actually moving in the direction I want to, however ploddingly and unobviously.

After reading Jen Sincero’s You Are A Badass I’ve taken to quoting her regularly. A friend even gave me the You Are A Badass page-a-day desk calendar and it is from there that I derive some sharable inspiration this week. Jen says:

Here’s the good news:

1. We all know way more than we give ourselves credit for knowing.

2. We are drawn to things we’re naturally good at (which counts more than having a graduate degree in the subject, BTW)

3. There’s no better teacher than necessity.

4. Passion trumps fear.

I think, therefore, I can create awesomeness. Or horrendousness. But the bottom line is that it’s through our thoughts that we create our realities.

We’re still allowed to dream, and our dreams are still available to us, but as we move through life, we must make the conscious effort to overcome whatever judgments we have, as well as kick all our fears from past experiences in the head, and participate in our own badassery. Whatever that looks like for you.

If you want to live a life you’ve never lived, you have to do things you’ve never done.

Thank you! Yes, yes, and more yes!

The joy of recognizing my bliss in that book and finding that old map of a dream life reminds me to connect with the Force and dare to do things I’ve never done.