It feels good just to shift things around. Life is loosening up, and I feel energized and hopeful. I think we all do. As if finally we are setting off an adventure we’ve talked about for years.
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Scribbles
I don't know how it happened but I got mugged today. I went into Scribbles, a stationary store on 15th Street, and walked out minus a good portion of $100. It's silly really; I just lost focus. I had no business being there in the first place. I forgot to kick the store in the balls and run for my life. Instead I got hypnotized by the luscious indents of letterpress and the hilariously cute one-liners of a good Mean Card. Oh how I miss card shopping, as one company marketed, "It's like candy for your pen."
In any case, I always want to pass along the yumminess. There are always old reliables, like Mean Cards:
What joy in loosing all my hard earned clams.
In any case, I always want to pass along the yumminess. There are always old reliables, like Mean Cards:
And new friends like, Night Owl Paper Goods, who use eco-friendly sustainably harvested wood and make you feel like a piece of the 70s have been sent to you via envelope.
And I always forget and then re-recognize the upside down 7 and parenthesis mustache of Old Tom Foolery.
Fabric Balls
Saturday I was on a mission to find new fabric for the dining room chairs. I got in the car, turned down the back windows for Gingy, and tuned to some jazz station. On my way to Denver Fabrics, I past a sign on Broadway reading "Fabric Sale 50% off". It was just the sign I was looking for, aka youaspeakamykindaspeak.
A lady was leaving as I entered the store. I took the stairs in front of me and found my way up into the fabric zone. As always, it was a little overwhelming and exciting. The colors and textures are so fun to peruse. I was wondering around when I heard a downstairs voice ask if someone was upstairs. In the sea of fabric, I didn’t respond; but then again the voice wasn’t asking me. I heard foot steps and a guy appeared.
He was dark-haired, olive-skinned Jersey. I liked that. He was the kind of guy I used to have a major crush on, though in this situation I was willing to put my money on the fact that he was probably gay (not to mention I am married). He asked what I was looking for and I told him I wanted to recover my kitchen table chairs with something funky and cool. He asked if I had a color in mind. I said I liked orange. I followed his lead and he took me directly to a fabric that was orange with some hints of pink. It had silvery white flourishes on top and had that durable coating suitable for table chairs. It really was a perfect hit and I said I would take it. He went downstairs to get some scissors and when he came back up, he asked if I was still with him? I said yes. He said, “Good. I’m glad someone has the balls to use this fabric.” I said, “Well, I guess I have the balls.”
We went over to the cutting table and he measured out three yards, giving it to me for the price of two because of a seam in the measurement. I thought about how I probably should not be spending money to change my chairs but also how funky and cool it would look AND how I was the only woman in this world with the balls to pull it off. He made the cut and folded it up. Always the commitment-phobe, a little buyers remorse snuck in right when the weight of the fabric was placed in my hands. I followed him to the stairs looking at the fabric wondering if I mistook funky for possibly offensive or old lady? I thought about coming home and D hating it, even though we both loved orange. He caught my non-verbal consideration and said to me, “He’ll love it.” At that point I knew he was gay ... and my crush grew three sizes that day.
A lady was leaving as I entered the store. I took the stairs in front of me and found my way up into the fabric zone. As always, it was a little overwhelming and exciting. The colors and textures are so fun to peruse. I was wondering around when I heard a downstairs voice ask if someone was upstairs. In the sea of fabric, I didn’t respond; but then again the voice wasn’t asking me. I heard foot steps and a guy appeared.
He was dark-haired, olive-skinned Jersey. I liked that. He was the kind of guy I used to have a major crush on, though in this situation I was willing to put my money on the fact that he was probably gay (not to mention I am married). He asked what I was looking for and I told him I wanted to recover my kitchen table chairs with something funky and cool. He asked if I had a color in mind. I said I liked orange. I followed his lead and he took me directly to a fabric that was orange with some hints of pink. It had silvery white flourishes on top and had that durable coating suitable for table chairs. It really was a perfect hit and I said I would take it. He went downstairs to get some scissors and when he came back up, he asked if I was still with him? I said yes. He said, “Good. I’m glad someone has the balls to use this fabric.” I said, “Well, I guess I have the balls.”
We went over to the cutting table and he measured out three yards, giving it to me for the price of two because of a seam in the measurement. I thought about how I probably should not be spending money to change my chairs but also how funky and cool it would look AND how I was the only woman in this world with the balls to pull it off. He made the cut and folded it up. Always the commitment-phobe, a little buyers remorse snuck in right when the weight of the fabric was placed in my hands. I followed him to the stairs looking at the fabric wondering if I mistook funky for possibly offensive or old lady? I thought about coming home and D hating it, even though we both loved orange. He caught my non-verbal consideration and said to me, “He’ll love it.” At that point I knew he was gay ... and my crush grew three sizes that day.
Oh Baby!
Check this out: Last month I designed an invite for Nancy's Baby Shower. The graphic below provides the gist of the design (you can view the whole thing here). Of course, it falls under my attempts to gain high accolades as a top bridal, baby shower invitation designer in Denver. However for the time being, I shall settle for this surprise...
I've said it before and I'll say it again, I LOVE things that are mailed. Yet when I arrived at the shower, I found a new dimension to my happiness. Tricia commissioned a cake to be created following the design of the invite. The creator, the uber-talented Anna Rodgers, manipulated fondant like a crazy lady (and if you've seen Ace of Cakes you know how hard it can be). That's just the beginning folks, because I haven't gotten to the delicious yellow cake with lemon filling and fresh raspberries that hid beneath the lovely surface. Truly delightful (though my blurry photos barely grasp the beauty).
If you are in need of a pastry chef in the Denver-metro area, contact Anna! If you aren't - come up with an excuse to get a cake made. She would be happy to hear from you and you would have yourself a fine treat!
Anna Rodgers 303-709-9300
annrodgers@gmail.com
I've said it before and I'll say it again, I LOVE things that are mailed. Yet when I arrived at the shower, I found a new dimension to my happiness. Tricia commissioned a cake to be created following the design of the invite. The creator, the uber-talented Anna Rodgers, manipulated fondant like a crazy lady (and if you've seen Ace of Cakes you know how hard it can be). That's just the beginning folks, because I haven't gotten to the delicious yellow cake with lemon filling and fresh raspberries that hid beneath the lovely surface. Truly delightful (though my blurry photos barely grasp the beauty).If you are in need of a pastry chef in the Denver-metro area, contact Anna! If you aren't - come up with an excuse to get a cake made. She would be happy to hear from you and you would have yourself a fine treat!Anna Rodgers 303-709-9300
annrodgers@gmail.com
There is Always Hope
I just discovered this British graffiti artist, Banksy. I don't know much about the artist except that I love what I see. I've always admired graffiti art: loud colorful letters. It draws me in. This is entirely different from my expectations of the medium. I think some of pieces have a biting silence about them that scream for attention. It's such a juxtaposition to what I know as graffiti art (but then again, what do I know). While some of his pieces are less ethereal, I prefer this image: the message and the lightness.
Oh Happy Day!
This is posted two weeks after the fact but really why I decided to get a blog going....finally.
Producing, packaging, and addressing our wedding invites was the moment I had been waiting for! It has been one of the more exciting and fun pieces of what will come to be known as my whole wedding planning fiasco. The creation and compilation provided a certain level of clarity nothing else in this whole adventure has revealed.
I was on my home turf: paper and envelopes, color and font, mail pieces that would make a recipient smile and feel loved. My heart soars at correspondence through the U.S. mail (no big surprise to anyone close to me). Nothing could be more uplifting than to receive a hand addressed piece of goodness from a friend faraway or just one block over. This was my debut to our guests, our closest friends and family members. This was my chance to send them something bright and colorful and happy. It implored relaxation and enjoyment. All I wanted was to be casual and intimate.
So why did I wait so long to get the ball rolling? I have no idea. 16 months of engagement and I had yet found the time (minus some pipe dreams about Papel Picado flags and mulling over how to make it work in my head). Job loss didn't inspire me. December crept in with holiday mail trickling through our mailbox (truly the most wonderful time of the year). Usually by December 1 I have a hot mix celebrating the great tunes I have discovered through the year and cool holiday message to package it in. So as I began to once again procrastinate via Christmas card creating, Andy had a come to Jesus conversation with me about setting my designs aside to get our invites out and possibly the debut Rooster Plumbing holiday card. He was right. I frowningly placed my yearly holiday card on the backburner and focused on the task at hand.
Never mind bad timing as far as available printers or the lack of cash to have these puppies properly letterpressed like any good event deserves, I was in the rush hour of printing seasons and now was not the time to lolly gag any longer. Rather I went for an ounce of frugality and came out proud of my finished product. I like to think it was a beacon of color in a sea of green, red and blue holiday cards.