No big deal.
Just a photoshopped-four-color-halftone-letterpress-printed Christmas Card.
Jen and I were like, “Oh, that’s cool. For a Christmas card.”
WHEW! What a weekend!
First of all, Amanda came to my house to do my hair.
I totally care about how I look. It seemed strange to look so beautiful AND carry 500 lbs of cards from a loading dock to a folding table. But I did it for the kids. Jen and I have worked out a system of communication that really facilitates a speedy set up: Jen orders me around like some sort of slave and I stifle sobs behind my Crying Scarf.
There was another letterpress company about 10 feet away from us and we had to fight to defend our turf. Zeichen Press ended up winning because we have better dance moves and we bribed the judges with Bazooka gum.
I figured out something pretty important on Saturday morning: I look like a Sleestack.
OH! Another thing that was pretty amazing: That dapper gent from one of our new cards actually bought the card that he is on!
I love a handsome man with a wallet full of cash. (Do you hear me, Kenny?!)
Let’s see… oh, yes.. the show was jam-packed and we made gobs of moola. I mean, we spread the joy of the season through letterpress goodness.
Here’s me laughing at one of my own jokes:
And here’s Jen endlessly fussing over a display:
I almost forgot to share this bit of news: Somebody actually stole an entire stack of these:
She must be a professional stalker.
If all goes according to my master plan, 2,500 pounds of love will soon be mine.
That’s one of these:
Or two of him:
Are you intrigued??
The new logo has been crafted of copper and is ready for printing.
…But who are those people supposed to be?? And why does the woman wear her hair as if it were 1986?? Only I know the answers to these mysteries and I have just boarded a train headed for Zermatt.
Dear Scary Santa,
How is Mrs. Scary Santa? How are the reindeer? That’s nice.
Could you please bring us our own architectural firm? Just like Mr. Brady from the Brady Bunch?
He’s always making models in the den and walking around with rolled-up blueprints. It looks like so much fun. PLUS, we would totally take care of it. We figured out the best name for it:
It’s our names! Spelled backwards!!
Anyway, we’ll let you get back to working with the elves.
Ken & Nat
Doesn’t that sound futuristic?
Anyway, you can come see them in person at the No-Coast Craft-o-Rama. It’s not until December but I know how my readers like to plan ahead.
What a night! First, I was paper-bagged by my girlfriends and THEN I was handed a glass of wine and a sack full of pencils.
We were greeted by a wall of women at the The Grave’s Hotel – I was frightened at first – it was like a giant bridal shower… I always feel awkward at bridal showers. This is going to surprise some people but I’m just not really a girly-girl. I can’t walk in heels and I have no idea what to do with make-up or hair. My casual wardrobe may as well be borrowed from the Cloggy’s Friday Night Karaoke Ladies.
But who’s that in the bathroom with you, Fran? Well, silly, that’s my bathroom friend!
Okay, onto the vendors at the event. What event? Hush. Illume Candles was there – spreading their joy through the scented candle. We’re printing their holiday card again this year. They’ll pay us in candle currency which they assured us is just as good as real money. Let’s see… then there was some stationery vendor… forgot the name… it wasn’t us… so I didn’t care… And lastly, Foat Design. They do urban couture and yoga wear. I chatted with one of the owners – A nice gal who claims to have a twin in San Francisco. I’m not buying it, I bet she made up the whole “twin thing” to get away with crime.
Nothing says Christmas like sitting on a boozed up strangers lap. Especially if that stranger promises you all sorts of “goodies.”
The 1970’s were a rich time for the Shea family. 5 of 8 kids had already come through the hatch, (what did she say?) Mr. had a job, Mrs. kept house. Santa Clause sat at Dayton’s just waiting to kick off Christmas-Time. I do remember wondering how he could waste precious toy-making time just SITTING THERE on that throne. That wondering turned into anxiety which turned into paralyzing fear.
That might be why I’m not in this picture.
Nat, Em, and Zak are in it.
Andy and I are noticeably absent. There might have been a pants-wetting episode, or a throwing-up episode. Or a poopy-pants episode. Andy was always trying to get attention.
With the help of photoshop, I’ll be revising history. Soon, Nat and his BUSINESS partner, Ken, will be sitting on Santa’s lap… together. Ken needs to scrape up some childhood memory and get it over to me. I will remove Em and Zak (Zak clearly wants to be removed) and replace them with a little Ken. THEN, I will create a 4-color process halftone – OF COURSE it will be 50 lines per inch.
It will be the new holiday card for Tanek. The finest architectural firm in the land.
I’ve heard it’s tricky to print a 4-color halftone using the letterpress printing method. But you know what I say to that??
I say, “you’re not so tricky!”
So, here’s what that image looks like when it’s all pulled apart and put back together as a 4 color separation. Isn’t it delicious?
Gasp… It’s… time… for… a… new… logo…
I wonder if schools are more selective about their teachers these days.
I had a high-school teacher that greeted us with such giddy enthusiasm when we entered the classroom – I might say he “pranced” around the room, his little toesies all dressed up for the day in black, dress socks. I could see the socks because those feet weren’t stuffed into a smelly old shoe – no! They were free as you and me in a classic Birkenstock sandal.
Seven Paula Figurines lined the front of his desk.
Six of them kept their backs to us, the seventh would be turned to let us know what day of the week it was,”Happy Monday!” and so on. So much better than a calender.
We were told that we should address him as “Doctor” – that title was later disputed. And revoked. Turns out it was all just a fantasy… oh, such a fantasy… I imagine myself getting a doctorate degree in religion…
He described one of his teaching methods as “accelerated learning.” All students were required to put their heads on their desk – or grab one of his strange-smelling pillows from his “cubby-hole.” Classical music blaring, he read aloud – synchronizing the inflection of his voice to the swells and ebbs of the music.
I wish I could remember what he read. Maybe it was the multiplication-tables. Or Jim Jones’ manifesto.