Tales from Studio Mailbox

Confessions of a Pretzel Collector

*Wow.  If you're just tuning in, I'm on a short vacation.  For your enjoyment, I've gone back and dug out partial work that I never bothered to publish for whatever reason.  This one is just odd...scary!

Whenever I see a pretzel, life ceases to exist while I scramble for a camera and digitally capture the twisty love.  The truth is, I am having a digital pretzel buildup.  Are some pretzels lesser than others?  Or is every pretzel the same and it's simply a matter of capturing it's true wonder?

My goal was to provide a minimum of one pretzel a week this year.  That's 52 icons of the beloved baked good that's infused throughout every city of this country.  My big secret is that I need to get my butt in my files and organize all the imagery I have. 

The insanity is that some pretzels seem summery while others are really wintry.  Some pretzels seem rather seasonal while others are a bit boring even to me.  Although the bakery pretzels are clearly the easiest to target, the pretzels in non-bakery settings are the most interesting and surprising.  I could actually sub-categorize pretzels if I really sat and thought about it. 

*This must have been right about the time I talked about the pretzel pipeline.  Although I did mention pretzel buildup when I confessed a backlog of data, I failed to mention my seasonal problem mentioned above.  So glad I could bring it to you now, can't believe we missed it... egads. 

Partial Prints

*Hmm.  Although this post feels incomplete, in hindsight it certainly seems like here is where I was formulating my thoughts on creality!  

I love printing but I'm hard-wired to make complete, perfect prints.  This is because the goal of a print house is to make consistent, perfectly registered results.  This means if the job was for 10,000 brochures, they should all be perfectly printed, the first one looking exactly as the last one off of the press.  This is achieved by the printers warming up with a run of anywhere between 20-100 sheets until the result is correct.  Those "make-ready" sheets are then chucked in the recycle bin.  

This somehow has conditioned me to think that the first prints are somehow "bad" or "wrong."  Technically, they are useless because they're not what the customer has ordered and therefore not sell-able. Artistically, however they are interesting and a good place to contemplate "happy accidents."  

When we're printing by hand, it's clear that not every single impression is going to be exactly like the others.  There are too many variables.  Yet this is what makes interesting, customized results...

Me and Hansi

*Note to readers: I drafted this back in 2008 and I don't know why I never posted it.  Maybe I just wasn't ready to face my feelings..!

Everyone probably has a story about their kid getting their hands on the remote control and in the end having to call customer service or getting a repairman out to get the TV in working order again.

Well when this happens to me, I get pop-up messages in German across my TV screen and a remote that freezes up and a cable box that only speaks in German and refuses to cooperate as well.

The other day while the hubby was away for an overnight business trip, my 18-month old Larsi boy worked some serious magic with the remote and the TV would not even shut off.  The channel would not change and the cable box would not shut down.  It was increasingly frightening when I realized we were stuck on a channel that played only Hansi Hinterseer.

Who is this man with an Edelweiss belt and a white linen shirt open at the chest?  I had no idea.  Complete with happy musicians in the background, one with fingers flying over a rhinestone encrusted accordion, my first reaction to the concert was denial.  Was this a wild band of German Liberace Impersonators?

I watched my child sway back and forth clapping his hands and dismissed it as his overall happy and optimistic personality.  

The full-packed concert consisted of a mixed demographic, many waving giant tongue depressors with the image of Hansi floating in the center of an Edelweiss.  This isn't happening to me, I thought. 

An electrician was scheduled at the house and when a pair of them arrived, luckily one was quite technical. I explained my predicament and despite their open amusement at the situation, the young man rescued me. 

But now comes the confession...after a few hours exposure to Hansi, I fell in love with him. Maybe it's just my edelweiss obsesssion but so similar to my crush on Neil Diamond, I realized that Hansi is the Austrian equivalent!!

So here is an awesome video depicting the regional love for this man.  Join me in my new crush:

 

Using Written Text in Collage

For years I've been wondering about mixed media artists who are using old texts as collage material.

It looks beautiful doesn't it?  Especially foreign texts.  Texts in character languages.  Texts on old paper,  textured paper, ancient fonts, brown pages.  Beautiful.  I love it.  But then I started thinking about it.

Firstly, foreign texts are a little dangerous.  If you do not understand the language, how do you know what the text says?  I would recommend being very careful that you don't inadvertently use material which could turn your artwork into something controversial or offensive (unless of course that's somehow your goal). 

What if that text is religious and you didn't realize it?   Or what if the text is something crude or horrible... something you would never include in your artwork?  Ooopsie.  I'm simply suggesting that we are careful to respect written words.  The pen is actually a sword people!!

Hmm.  Respecting written words.  That's right.  Somebody wrote those words.  So although I think it might be OK to use text in collage and then sell the original piece, I'm pretty confident that it's not OK to use text and then reproduce it (multiple prints, cards, whatever) when that text wasn't yours to begin with.  It came from the page of a book. It came from the mind of a person who wrote that book. Just like a photo or image that isn't yours, should we be putting text on a copy machine and then reselling even a portion of it? 

My hubby warns me in his ever loving way, that maybe I shouldn't bring these things up.  Let people make whatever they want.  It isn't my business and it isn't my problem. As long as I know what I'm using to make my own stuff, let it go. Hmm.  He's probably right.   But I'm interested in knowing what you think about when you look at old text being used in mixed media artwork... and will you think about it differently now?

Arabic for Designers is an excellent book about text in art.  This is a must-have for anybody working on logo designs out there.  The book is beautifully illustrated throughout and contains newspaper clippings of epic mistakes from the major corporations such as Coca-Cola and Nike. It's a great addition to my creative library and the best part is it makes me think about our responsibility as creative people to respect language.

New Quay, Wales

Life has me thinking about how we make up rules about the world based on what we've experienced and what we "know" to be true and sometimes we'll go to any length to protect those rules.

A few summers ago, my hubby's wish was to "see dolphins" during our summer holiday.  At the time we were living in SouthWest London, and instead of bringing him to the zoo, I went on-line and started searching for "whale watching" or "dolphin spotting."  Sure enough, I found the answer to our wish, New Quay on Cardigan Bay in West Wales!  We formulated a plan, and drove across the United Kingdom in search of the dolphins of Cardigan Bay.

Now, I could go on and on about how we were lucky enough to see a Sea Lion come to shore, or how the world's loveliest Welsch man gave me a personal tour of his wollen mill, but this post is about the fact that when we told people that we were in New Quay (pronounced "new key") Wales, they took the liberty of "correcting" and informing us that we were actually in Newquay, Cornwall.

So we would say, "no, we were in Wales" and they would say, "no, you were in Cornwall."  We even had a couple of angry acquaintences who made so much fun of us for "being so stupid" that we were supposedly still in England and merely thinking we were in Wales.

Hmmm.  How do you even respond to that?  Let's see...so we sat in a car and read the signs as we changed COUNTRIES and drove for a million miles getting stuck behind farmers moving livestock from one pasture to the next, yet we were really on a giant treadmill, not leaving England at all, and just simply following signs to Newquay which we assume was in Wales but was actually still in England?? 

Is that what these people were getting at?

So here's the summary of the story:  there's more than one New Quay.  One spelled New Quay and the other Newquay.  Both destinations sounding identical when spoken.  These places are in two different coutries.  The one in Cornwall is far more famous, and since my hubby and myself were both foreigners, it was ASSUMED that we had made some kind of gross geographical mistake in thinking that we were in Wales.

Again and again I wonder why humans are so invested in being "right" all the time.  It's as if not knowing something exposes us in a way that's FAR too scary.  Why is it that when we process a story where the pieces aren't fitting together, that we immediately assume that the other person is wrong instead of simply wondering if there's more than one answer. 

Just for the record, there's more than one Las Vegas too.  There is Las Vegas, New Mexico as well as the more famous Las Vegas, Nevada.  So if you see a European at a party telling you that Las Vegas was such a lovely city while they visited New Mexico, consider the fact that YOU DON'T KNOW EVERYTHING.  Nobody does.

Digging Out Old Stuff

Full Steam Ahead!  "Volldampf" is my latest acquisition from Marion.  I love the twinkling gears!  Reminds me of a printing press.  She is so organized, she has a folder of available ATCs for trade on her Flickr stream.  Check her out!

I thought Studio Mailbox was reaching the 500th post mark but sadly upon further investigation, I realize the stats are counting all the old posts I have accumulated that are unfinished and unpublished over the years.

Since I'm about to go on a short trip, I've decided to clean up around here.  I'm deleting the junk that never will be posted and bringing to you some old stuff that's just too funny to delete.  So for the next couple weeks, you'll be getting the written version of spring cleaning.

One of the posts was just a title, Shopping Photos or Photoshopping?  Hmm.  Where was I going with that one?

Here's a taste from something back in 2008:

...I've been developing this world of female gnomes for Studio Mailbox's upcoming Zine.  Each of the troll-inas will have a skill or power.  It's basically the exact opposite of the Smurfs.  Instead of all men and one woman, my Zwerge village will have all women and one man.  Except my women aren't going to compete for the attentions of the male, in fact they might exile him.  I haven't decided.

Folks, I even scare myself.  When I close my eyes, all I see are question marks behind my lids!  Please forgive me in advance for the weirdness I'm about to dump on you in the next days and if I don't answer your comments it's because I have no internet connection or am hopelessly lost in the wilderness. 

Although I'm flying home to Minnesota, I'm joining a group of women somewhere on an island off the shore of Wisconsin in Lake Superior.  And get this:  some of the ladies actually want to propel themselves along the water with some skinny boats using arm strength!  I've already opted out of that excursion but I must admit I am looking forward to this place which is clearly going to need a report of it's own when I return.  Then again, I've heard it's "Biker Days" at the Burnt Down Cafe so you'll know what's up if I never actually return.  Love you guys!

Check it out: Marion's cards also included "Away From Here" -- spooky as I'm frantically trying to pack!!

My Dad

This Father's Day weekend had me thinking that somehow I've never really shared my dad with you guys!

Dad's home is the same one I was raised in way up in northern Minnesota.  We are Iron Rangers. He burns wood to heat his house and stays physically fit from all the exercise it takes to chop and pile and constantly manage the fuel supply.  My childhood chores involved "piling wood" and "throwing wood."  Piling wood is the process of neatly stacking it after it's split so that it dries out properly.  This is measured in cords.  Throwing wood is when you take a bunch off the pile and "throw" it into the house to burn.  Our home has a big wood box built around a basement window that's removed and used as a portal to transfer the wood from the outside in. 

Dad doesn't only burn wood, he works with wood.  When he retired he built his own "wood shop" that has an antique cast iron stove that he drove all the way to Canada to get.  In the winter if you pull in to visit dad, he might have soup, stew or chili cooking on his stove while he's building something.  In the summer, he likely has a fire going in a huge iron ring outside that he cooks over.  The shop fridge is likely stocked with tons of drink boxes, beer, soda and sometimes fishing leeches.

There's a lot of equipment around the farm, many vehicles and tractors having names like "Old Brown."  Kids always get rides if they stop by when the tractors are out.  Dad used to move snow with a little red tractor when we were kids.  Now that he's older he has a plow for a "work" truck so that he gets to sit in a heated cab while he gets his work done. 

There's a big field behind his house where on special occasions he would get out an old wooden baseball bat and tirelessly hit us pop flies until every kid had a turn at catching one.  He'd never quit until we actually caught one, we never ended on a dropped ball.

My greatest dad memory is when one winter our school bus got stuck. The weather was so horrible that the driver slipped off the side of the road.  It wasn't unusual for a bus to get stuck in the winter on the rural routes, but this time it went into the ditch so badly that it was nearly laying on it's side.  The kids were scared and knew it was going to take a serious rescue to get us out. 

Within a half an hour of the accident, as we were all hunkered together in the cold, crooked bus, out of the blizzard comes none other than my dad! 

He climbs right in and looks at the driver and says, "I figured there was a problem."  Then he looked over the seats and said, "Don't worry kids.  Another bus is on the way!"  Then he gave a military-like roll-call, "Tari! Chuck! Jessica and Maija!" 

My brother, my cousin, the neighbor girl and myself all got out and climbed into dad's pickup.  "Sorry I don't have room for more kids!" he called out to everybody else.  And away he navigated over the snow drifts, shifting carefully to avoid hitting our knees since four kids were piled on the bench seat next to him. 

Dad is a terrific grandfather.  He planted apple trees when each of his three grandsons were born.  We fly kites in his field and my son is convinced that his motor home is not for camping, but instead a way for grandpa to drive around with a freezer and all the fixings for ice cream sundaes.  Dad is a great sport about playing games with the kids, a particular favorite of the family is Old Maid.  He's a terrific story teller.  He'll also get the boys out of our hair by suddenly getting up and asking who wants to "fly" to the end of the driveway while he outstretches his arms and takes them on an imaginary plane ride. 

In three days I'm flying home to spend a long weekend with childhood girlfriends.  Dad is coming to pick me up at Duluth airport, and already planning what to cook for the two evenings I'm home and shaking off my jet lag.  Dad's been a widower for nearly 20 years now, so it was hard when I married a German and moved so far away from home.  The times we do get to see each other are really special and always packed with laughs.  This year, my real father's day comes a few days late... and I can't wait!

Before and After: Sprayed Die Cut

My friend Dawn sent me these groovy die-cut heavy paper forms awhile back when my homies and I were doing a postcard swap.

I altered the girl form that's hiding in the middle there under Dawn's beautiful woven cards.

This is just the kind of craft product that Germany is missing.  I could think of a million fun things to do with forms like this.

So I did what any good friend would do. 

I spray painted the heck out of one of them and sent it back!  Thanks Dawn, you rock.

Images of African Festival, Wuerzburg

I've blogged about the African Festival before, and we enjoy it every time we attend. I thought I'd share some images with you, especially these beautiful earrings I bought from Threadylicious.  (I went with the medium sized tear-drop in brown and yellow).  Be sure and check out Grace's store if you'd like a pair of your own!

The coolest thing I saw this year were noise shakers where the gourds were painted like soccer balls!  Major hit with the small man. 

Quirky plastic teapot shaped watering cans were hanging everywhere as well.  On the fashion scene, lots of big chunky beautiful bracelets!

Since it's a long weekend here in Germany, I've been off the computer for a few days because a long lost cousin visited me!  (No joke, after not seeing the guy for 18 years, we had 3 full days packed with fun).

So here's wishing you all have a great start to a creative week... xxx tj

Pretzel Sighting #44

There's been quite a pause in pretzel sightings here at Studio Mailbox, but that's because I was just waiting for this very special one to come along and share with you.

Now stay with me here because I know it's not normal to choose a charity based on it's logo, but this is a very special case.

I've always admired this bold modern form. When I would see it on posters I would think of a heart with legs or a heart on crutches. But it turns out that this logo is in-officially known as the "leprosy pretzel."

All these years I have enjoyed an annual festival not fully understanding what it supported until I discovered that the DAHW is actually the German Leprosy and Tuberculosis Relief Association and that all proceeds of their events go to support their mission.

If you're reading this it means you have a computer and internet connection.  I don't know many of us who wake up concerned about leprosy. But my hope is that in a global world, those of us with more will help to protect those with far less.

Don't panic that I'm going to ask for your money.  I know that life is expensive, but donating money is not necessarily what I'm talking about here.  I'd just like to ask you that if you have enjoyed the previous 43 pretzels, that you would possibly do something special for this one.  Go and "LIKE" the DAHW Facebook page so that you stay up to date with their excellent events and fundraisers. 

For instance the annual festival in Wuerzburg is set up with stations like arts and crafts, go-karts, climbing, and bouncy houses.  Each station has a little can tied down with string and you are asked to give a donation to partake in the activity.  Each time a .50 coin drops into the bottom of that can, a child somewhere in the world can be inoculated for Tuberculosis. 

I loved this short You-Tube video of the recent event that was hosted in May.  It's very beautiful and it made me so grateful to live in Germany.  Studio Mailbox is proud to fly the leprosy pretzel and pronounce the DAHW it's official charity.