Artist by Nature, Books by Design

“A lovely thing about Christmas is that it’s compulsory, like a thunderstorm, and we all go through it together.” – Garrison Keillor

By Rachel on November 15, 2017

First baby Holiday ‘card’. I cut out strips of the three pictures and sent them as such. They also became gift tags on packages.

If you think this is a cheap ploy to showcase my baby’s undeniable cuteness, you are correct. If you think I still have a baby, you are off by eleven years. Sigh. Don’t blink parents….

Finishing up my archive of previous holiday cards. Maybe there are ideas to be gleamed, maybe projects to avoid.

Potato stamping cards pre-dated motherhood by 10 years.

The best part of potato stamping is the cheap tools and endless possibilities. Almost any paint will do and when you’re tired of a design you simply cut it off and create a new one. A great activity to get messy with. No cleaning as you go. If you don’t have paint on your face or in your hair by the time you’re finished, something went terribly wrong.

Simple black and white copies on card stock. Add felt if you need a reason to show off your newly pierced tongue.

Any source of cuteness is vital for a successful holiday card. What’s cuter than your kid brother from 20 plus years ago? Or your confused cat? (I know, I know, dogs! But I didn’t have dogs back in my singles days.) Add simple graphics, a trendy font, and a best attempt at broad appeal humor and wha-laa. You’ve managed to make a HUGE number of holiday cards for a MINIMUM number of dollars.

Mini books were a favorite way to share mediocre but sweet photos.

More than a few friends have received these little bookies and cards full of less than average photos. Before digital photography, much of my monthly income was spent printing photos, then scanning them back in and arranging them so that they felt purposely arty.

**Top:** Access to transparent sticker stock and a Christmas away from family was the inspiration for the top card. **Right:** Black and white photos copied onto colored stock. **Bottom:** Copies of photos folded to hold actual photos.

Pictures of a mini tree wearing purple lights and small plastic toys made for a dynamic card one year, with 4 optional front covers and a page of stickers for your cutting and sticking pleasure. The fact that an entire single-girl evening was spent poking holes thru and threading toys is testament to how much I love decorating for the holidays, at the same time, not buying new stuff.

The sticker stock was courtesy of Creative Type and Graphics as it existed in 1998. When I saw what was possible through high end digital printing, my brains caught afire with ideas for cards and books. I made up projects just to try new options.

The other two cards shown above are copied photos that serve as an envelope. The green and kraft paper project featured photos taken on a solo journey from Texas to Colorado for a cousin’s wedding. The photos inside were selfies taken with family at the wedding.

The black and white piece is little bit Dove Creek on the outside, a little bit NYC on the inside, wrapped in a strip baring either a fictional family photo or me. Once the receiver finally made it into the card, a pile of pictures I’d taken of them would fall out.

Family selfies and type set photos. We’re talking 9¢ a piece y’all.

Simple photos were (and still are) my go to card through the years. It’s an easy and inexpensive solution for sharing the unbearable cuteness of children and furry critters. I tend to personalize them one way or another – no factory graphics here. Someday I may actually pay a professional photographer. Maybe.

The poem included in the 2007 card:

And finally – the cards that never made it into the mail. Printed, produced and paid for but abandoned nonetheless:

**Left:** Shalequa inspired silliness. **Middle**: Too terrible to try. **Right:** Office Depot, you did real good, but I didn’t have time to correct ya.

The magenta cat cards with the grouchy green polaroids were made in my apartment in Brooklyn. Designed for a clear envelop to entertain the mail carriers. Out right vanity kept me from mailing the middle card. The mini cards on the far right weren’t centered once printed. A few made it into the hands of a some sweet friends but not to the wider world. Poor planning is all I can come up with.

Whew – with the past ever behind me and now documented I look forward to something unexpected for …. gulp … NEXT MONTH!! Geez – Get going!

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.