Blog - Letterpress

I didn’t even ask Jen how she got all these boxes for New Zealand

to the post office. Maybe Henry the Dog helped her. Or Loretta, she’s pretty strong. I couldn’t help anyway because I was busy taking a sponge bath. Andrea says sponge baths are for 80-year-olds but I’d like to see an 80-year-old get into my kitchen sink.

No, I wouldn’t. 

The hot-water-heater decided it was time to rust through and I don’t blame it a bit. It really is the most boring household appliance. If it were a person, I’d hate it.

So, I boiled some water on the stove for my bath and as I squatted in it, I thought to myself, “I wish I had curtains on my windows.” and “Is this funny or sad?” I decided it was funny but only because the new hot-water-heater is coming on Monday.

Last night was our first monthly (WHAT? Didn’t I tell you guys that??) card folding party. Jen was noticeably absent. She was invited, she told me she doesn’t mix business and pleasure. Or maybe she said she tries not to see me more than she has to.

Either way, she wasn’t there.

Wine was drunk and 1,000 cards were folded:

You can be a part of the magic! Send me an email – if you own a spoon, have two hands, and aren’t planning to kill me – you can join us!

March means the party is over and Winter is the (very) drunk guest that won’t take a hint. Um, Winter, can’t you see that I’ve thrown the bottles out the back door and had the dog clean the floor?

That’s alright. I’ve called it a cab, it will be here in a few weeks.

Meanwhile, here’s a new card:

Do you hear me? DO YOU?!

Like-minded people know that a flippant attitude will get you somewhere. You can be either: A) A bartender. B) A regular on The Hollywood Squares. C) A wise-cracking cellmate. D) Christian Lander. E) The Voice of the People.

Those are pretty much all your choices, so think carefully. Obviously, I chose E. Only because the role of Christian Lander was already taken and I have claustrophobia.

I looked out the window today and saw this:

My reaction could only be this:

My SAT scores were never high enough to get me into an Ivy League school. I’m kidding. I never took that stupid test. I’m kidding. That test isn’t stupid. I’m kidding. Yes, it is. I’m not bitter, I’m funny. Tell me I’m funny.

ANYWAY, finally, those Harvard braniacs can correspond properly.

Send me a love letter, Harvard alum, Mark Zuckerberg. 

Some of the chosen cards were:

As for that last choice: That gal is talking about his beach ball. HIS BEACH BALL.

“It is finished.” She gasped as she crumpled to the cold, concrete. It was, by all accounts, glorious. The work would outlast the artist and elevate the art form to new and dizzying heights. 

But she, exhausted and covered in ink, was oblivious. To her, this was nothing more than an exercise. A functional and fleeting piece, it would be handled roughly and discarded by Springtime.

Um, so, that poster for Craftsravaganza is, like, done:

There are a couple of things going on around here:

1) Our fax machine is spitting out orders faster than we (jen) can fill them.

2) We (I) are (am) making the poster for this year’s Craftstravanganza.

Just to make my load fair, I listen to a recording of screaming children while I work.

I think it really shows:

Today, I will put ink on that – it will be so spectacular there won’t be a dry eye in the room. (I’ll be the only one in the room.)

This is what comes of my unwillingness to fold the laundry – I just stare out the window (of my asylum) and think and write inappropriate things. Shouldn’t the children in my imagination be allowed to have one wholesome snowball fight?

We outbid everybody (nobody) on ebay and won a hotplate for 99¢. It’s for the JSTKinstructional film that is, as they say, in production. Meaning, we haven’t started yet.

We tried it out, it works, and has two settings: “off” and “burn the house down.” I can’t wait to shoot!

Jen has been printing and pulling decks together for all of our new reps and I have been thinking a lot about the ocean. I’ve never seen the ocean in Winter. So, that’s a lot to think about.

Here’s a new card I made to go with all that thinking:

I don’t know very much about New Zealand

but I do know that, soon, New Zealanders, young and old, will speak the name of Zeichen Press – will clutch these American-made letterpress cards to their breasts, and with closed eyes, whisper, thank God… thank God…

–>This means that we picked up a New Zealand distributor. We have already sent ourselves this card: