For Boston, with love
Sending healing thoughts to one of my home cities, one of my favorite cities, tonight. Be well, people of Boston. Stay strong.
Sending healing thoughts to one of my home cities, one of my favorite cities, tonight. Be well, people of Boston. Stay strong.
Well, I can finally let you in on the secret, because “coming soon” is about to be switched to “now open.” My friend Susan has spent years building her children’s apparel business, Dandelion Wishes, from idea to brick-and-mortar store—and I’m the lucky gal she asked to help her develop the look and brand of her shop.
Susan is putting the finishing touches on the place, and making sure everything is pitch-perfect for her grand opening this weekend—
while I’m piecing together (literally!) the final visual details.
(I’ll reveal more about that on the blog at a later date; or if you’re local, come to the grand opening and see for yourself!)
Dandelion Wishes isn’t your average kids’ store; this is something really special. Susan has curated a beautiful collection of clothing, accessories and gifts that paints a picture of what she believes in (and so do I): Support independent artisans. Buy local and domestic whenever possible. Choose natural fibers over synthetic ones. Offer the highest quality available. Bring these ideals into affordable balance and you’ll bring good design within reach.
This project was something special, too. I’ve done lots of identity and branding work for clients, but I’ve never had this much free reign before, to help develop the entire conceptual basis for a business. It was so much fun to dive in and really see what I could do.
Since Susan’s shop is so invested in this story, I wanted to create a story out of the shop. Together we invented a world of characters and narratives that make stepping into the shop feel like stepping into a children’s book. Each character has a story and a secret wish, and a personality that fits the different brand stories of the clothing companies Susan carries.
You’ve already met Ruby and her imaginary friend at the start of this post.
And here’s the rest of our quintet. Once we had our full cast of characters, it made building the shop’s collection of clothing much easier. All of a sudden, Susan was piecing together the wardrobes of actual people with personalities and tastes and preferences—rather than just an inventory list in her head.
I loved weaving the stories behind each character—
—and getting to mix actual clothing samples with whatever else I felt like dreaming up.
As the seasons change—
—and so do the kids’ outfits—
we’ll be creating new stories and scenes to go with them. Keep an eye on the shop’s website to watch the tale unfold.
In the meantime, I already find myself thinking of these kids as real people that I know—and wondering what they’d think of each idea I sketch out for the future.
So help Susan make a splash with Dandelion Wishes—if you’re in the Tacoma area, stop by the shop this weekend. And look for an online shop to appear soon.
For now, I’m going to ask Frank what his summer plans are.
It’s hard to believe it’s been two years since the last one, but a few weeks ago I was back for my second showing at the Codex International Bookfair. The four-day fair was at a new venue this year—a space so gorgeous just I had to break out the ol’ sketchbook.
This year (and hopefully every year from here on out) we were hosted by the Craneway Pavilion in Richmond, CA. Now a part of Rosie the Riveter National Historic Park (bonus points for being part of something else I love), the former Ford plant was used as a major military plant during World War II.
We had completely outgrown the old Codex stomping grounds in Berkeley—so while none of us knew what to expect of the new space, we were just hoping it would be big enough to fit a couple hundred artists under one roof.
We got way more than we bargained for—the space is absolutely cavernous. The bookfair was every bit as overwhelming as last time (just try looking at a few thousand pieces of art in four days!), but the Craneway gave the perfect breathing room to do the artwork justice. With its huge banks of windows and three-story ceiling, it almost felt like I was spending each day outdoors. I hated leaving at the end of each day.
And besides—this was the view from my table. Is there anything better than showing your work on one of the best chunks of real estate in the Bay Area? (Though I have to admit, every morning that one—admittedly awesome—Journey song would pop into my head, just like it always does when I’m in the area.*)
Occasionally I had to remind myself that I wasn’t just there to stare out the window, or bask in the sunshine on the dock outside, or scribble in my sketchbook. But I’m grateful to report that I had a nearly constant stream of visitors to my table to bring me back to reality when I needed it.
Huge props to all the folks who made the commute up to Richmond from San Francisco and Oakland (including Sarah and M-A for their help manning the table!)—judging by the comments I heard all week, you liked the new space as much as I did. And many thanks to all the return visitors from two years ago who came back to say hello (special shout-out to Adam D.!) or leave me with their own goodies. It felt great to be welcomed back.
One last thing: major thanks to Kate Farnady, who created this off-the-cuff stop-motion video of my Local Conditions book, right in the middle of our conversation about it. You made my day.
Codex, I’ll see you in two years—with any luck, right there on the waterfront again.
* Okay, you are not going to believe this, but as I wrote that sentence, that song came up on shuffle in my iTunes! Cross my heart. I’m officially freaked out now…
Right now I’m in California, manning my table at the Codex Book Fair. But I have to say, it’s a little hard to concentrate.
I mean, not only am I surrounded by incredible work by a couple hundred artists—but just look at this space! We’re in a new venue this year, and it is absolutely spectacular.
Plus, we’re literally right on the water (really—the pavilion sits right on a pier), so as if all the artwork here weren’t distraction enough, all anyone has to do is just gaze out the window.
Now, it’s a good thing my studio isn’t in a place like this—I don’t think I’d ever get any work done!
Today contains some of the few precious hours in the entire year that are just for us—when we can just be. We love the whirlwind of lights, colors, food, friends, music and surprises that comes with the holidays, but it’s the day we set aside for nothing but time that we look forward to all year.
May today be a gift to you as well—whether you spend it with family, friends, wide open spaces, or in your own lovely company.
Merry Christmas.
Photo by Laurie Cinotto
Right now my little cottage-industry factory is churning out Christmas—starting with this year’s letterpress ornament collection. This is the second year I’ve made letterpress ornaments, and I have been dying to show you this year’s crop.
Thankfully, I can finally let the…ahem…cat out of the bag.
Look at Laurie’s amazing tree! She is the queen of holiday decorating.
There are two sets of ornaments this year, and for one of them I collaborated with my friend Laurie Cinotto, the fabulous fine-craft genius and kitty wrangler behind the insanely wonderful Itty Bitty Kitty Committee. A year ago I asked her if she’d be interested in doing a set of kitty ornaments, and for months now we’ve been positively chortling over these things. (Curious fact: we make nearly identical chortle sounds.)
The really hard part was picking which kittens from Laurie’s nearly endless alumni and gorgeous photographs to illustrate. In the end, I settled on a few of my all-time favorites: Clovis Ashby, who is a bit of a Tacoma celebrity. Extra-pretty Victoria Anne McGillicuddy in all her calico glory. Aloysius Petrie for his “Who, me?” look. My particular friend Baxter Lamm, who now makes mischief full-time at Jessica’s house. And Pearla Dearborn, to whom my secret heart belongs forever (even though she doesn’t live with me). And watching over the flock is Laurie’s own Empress Mama cat, Charlene Butterbean.
These kitties (and Laurie’s photographs) are T-town legends, as I found out this weekend. We did a little ornament test-drive at a local craft fair, and people kept saying things like, “Hey, that’s Clovis on that tree!” and “Wait a minute—what is Charlene Butterbean doing at your table?” But whether these guys are old hat for you, or you’re a dog person who’s never heard of such a thing as kitten blogs on the Internet—well, I just dare you to tear your eyes away from Laurie’s world.
There are just 200 sets of these ornaments to go around, and each one is ridiculously handmade. To give you an idea of just how ridiculous, I thought I’d walk you through part of the process.
Yes, there’s sushi on that press sheet. That’s the other ornament set this year…
Y’all know my printing process pretty well by now, so I’m going to skip ahead a bit. Just FYI, these are linocuts; check out my bird prints if you’re curious about that process. But as you can see, I printed both ornament sets all at once, on one press sheet.
Then I went ahead with my usual hand-coloring assembly line.
No, wait a minute. I said 200 prints, right? Well, that’s a small edition for retail goods, but when you’re hand-painting each one, 200 feels more like eleventy billion.
There, that’s more of an accurate picture.
Still, if the work stretching endlessly ahead of you to the horizon is a bunch of drawings of kittens, it’s impossible not to be happy about it, despite yourself. I know—I tested the hypothesis, and I’m still grinning like a fool.
This year I added a new step to the process: rather than hand-cutting all 1200 kitties in the set by hand (ahem, Local Conditions, I’m looking at you!), I made the design simple enough that I could semi-automate part of the assembly line. I bought a hand-crank die-cutting machine, created a digital dieline (basically an industrial pattern) of my design, and sent it off to a friendly steel rule manufacturer in Kent.
I know that plank with all those pink foam bits doesn’t look anything like an ornament set, so let me zoom in. A die consists of steel blades embedded in a piece of wood. The blades are bent and arranged in precisely the configuration specified by the dieline. Those pink foam bits cushion the blades, hold the paper in place and help with cutting accuracy. When the die is run through the cutting machine (which works much like a Vandercook press), those pink bits squish down under pressure, exposing the blades and gripping the paper to be cut. Those metal pins sticking up are for lining up the press sheet—they’re spring-mounted, so they retract when the blade goes through the cutting machine.
Here’s the underside of the die—now you can see how the blades fit the press sheet.
Still, while the die is a total lifesaver in terms of cutting time, the lightweight paper I was cutting made for some wiggle room—even with the extra line tolerance I built into the design. After all that hand-coloring I didn’t want to lose a third of my prints by cutting them in the wrong place. So I still had to do some puzzling and figure out how to outsmart the limitations here.
Since the lightweight prints are mounted to a heavier board to complete the ornaments (the ribbon loops are sandwiched in between), I was basically using the die twice. I realized that the leftover blanks of board would make a good template, and wouldn’t wiggle under pressure.
A little masking tape,
some quick eyeballing,
and slow-and-steady cranking in the press—
—and Bob, as they say, is your uncle.
Individually taping down all eleventy billion 200 press sheets was a little mind-numbing, but still, the “finished” pile added up fast.
And it was awfully satisfying to see the whole edition completed in days rather than weeks or months.
Laurie stepped in and saved my sanity by doing a lot of the grunt work—rough-cutting boards, snipping lengths of ribbon, and cutting insets into the board-kitties so that the ribbon loops lie flush and disappear.
A quick coat of black around the edges,
and just a wee bit of cursive script on the back,
—and we have a litter of Christmas kittens. Laurie contributed one of my favorite photos for the packaging, and I basically have been unable to stop squealing ever since. Now the Tailor and I just need to hurry up and chop down our Christmas tree, so I can display these guys in the living room!
If you’d like a set, they’re up in the shop. To answer the foreseeable question, we’re just offering these in full sets—they were printed in sets, so we don’t really have any oddball solo pieces this time. And last year almost everyone wanted the full set of bird ornaments, rather than just one, so I let those votes carry the motion. Actually, there are still some bird sets left, so feel free to snag ’em if you missed out last year. As usual, these are limited-edition—I won’t be reprinting them, so once they’re gone, they’re gone for good.
One last thing: to make sure that Tacoma pets also have a happy holiday season this year, Laurie and I will be donating a portion of our proceeds to help stock the Tacoma Humane Society’s emergency pet food bank. We want to make sure that while we’re all having a kitty-themed Christmas, the kittens who inspire us get to enjoy Christmas dinner, too.
Happy tree-trimming!
The table is set, the wine is poured, our friends have gathered round. We have everything we could want here, and for that we’re thankful.
I wish you the same, wherever you are today. Happy Thanksgiving.
Hey, everyone—Gilles is back!
He’s here for Thanksgiving, but that meal’s not until tomorrow—so what do you think our favorite Frenchman would choose to serve up for lunch?
Fresh, raw, Pacific Northwest oysters, of course.
But I’d better stop blogging and get back to the table—before he eats them all!
“It doesn’t matter whether you’re black or white or Hispanic or Asian or Native American or young or old or rich or poor, abled, disabled, gay or straight. You can make it here in America if you’re willing to try.”
— President Obama, 6 November 2012
There’s a lot of work ahead, and not every step we took today was in the right direction. But I want to thank everyone who voted for women’s rights, for marriage equality, for four more years. Tonight I’m raising my glass to everyone who voted to move us Forward.
I’ve been asked to take part in another collaborative letterpress portfolio—this time, with the theme of an animal abecedary. Each of the participants gets just a couple of letters in the collection, and I’m happy to report I nabbed two of my favorites. For these prints I experimented with something a little different. They’re hand-painted linocuts, like I often make—but these are hand-cut to reveal a fabric background. I’m pretty happy with how these turned out—now to file away the idea for future use!