Labor of Love, part two

"This funny thing happens when people ask where I am from... 'Mississippi,' I say. 'Oh wow!' They say. I can tell they've never seen a real live racist before. --Harrison Scott Key November's postcard is out and I am already getting responses about assumptions about the south. I received the Oxford Americans "Best of the South" issue and have been slowly reading. I want to send copies to all my friends because I think it exemplifies some of the best things about the south. With a sense of humor. But I wonder how this humor, self-deprecating as it is, such as the above passage about Mississippi, translates to those who haven't spent much time there. I want to know what other people think. I am a northern for sure, but after ten years in Louisiana, there are things I miss that I didn't understand before. I'm not going to be able to figure it out here; that is for another day in another medium.

But today is for inspiration. Some times I don't hear from friends or penpals for a while. And then my mail comes in a flood and includes a series of postcards from a friend in New Orleans, Lorraine. She also sent this awesome book about sending letters and the importance of communication. Such a good envelope to open and enjoy while I have been so tired and unsure of myself.

New postcards getting printed Friday. You will hear from me soon.

Labor of Love, part one

There are piles of projects in my studio, always, but lately this is the view--through the steamy window of my kitchen. When I was in high school and sad or bored or restless, I would cook. I was a terrible cook. Radish soup. The blandest broth ever. Greenish hashbrowns. Luckily for all, I learned to cook in the past 20 years.

And I moved to California, where there seems to be endless fresh and affordable vegetables. We have a friend with a small organic farm who sells us a box of produce every two weeks. This week, we ordered a case of tomatoes, too. Small sauce tomatoes, similar to Roma. Friday was chilly outside but we set to work.

There are lots of good and bad things about living here. I am far from a lot of my friends, but a few good friends live here. I wear wool socks when it is below 65, but I think my New England blood was thinned out (probably by whiskey) all the years in Louisiana. Cooking is meditative. Sometimes art is, too. But lately I am printing a lot for other people or making things to sell and I haven't been making so much for fun. Of course, I didn't think about it like this until recently, so yes, I will make more fun art too. But cooking is more communal, for me. It keeps our kitchen warm. Our roommate does his homework while we slice and gut a bazillion tomatoes to roast.

I have a very simple tomato sauce recipe. Growing up, I thought sauce had to take all day to cook, simmering the tomatoes and sausage. In Italy I realized that these few ingredients, if you have good tomatoes, make incredible sauce. Now our freezer is full, we have something to eat all winter, and I feel a little more relaxed. I might be ready to take that to the studio.

Simple Tomato Sauce Slice one clove of garlic. Fry it in a fair amount of olive oil. When the garlic starts to turn golden, add about one pound of diced tomatoes, that have been seeded (cut in half and scoop out the seeds). Sometimes, I roast the tomatoes first. I never peel them because I am usually lazy and hungry. Add salt, pepper and a teaspoon of sugar. Simmer for 25 minutes. Add a quarter cup of chopped fresh basil. That makes it perfect. (Basil season is over so we added a bunch of dry rosemary. Variation is good. Spice of life, right?) Now wow your friends.

Studio Preview

Ben did all the hard work of getting the press across the country and into the shop so I could at least organize a little. I tried to show off our garage studio to Kyle when she was in Oakland for a night but I couldn't remember the combination to the shop. Embarrassing. So one day last week I got to work.

I listened to "I am Love" in Italian while unpacking boxes of ink and sorting broken trays of type(mine, not Ben's). The movie is in Italian but they keep the title in English. Most of it takes place in Milan. Sigh. A little nostalgia while moving forward.

The light in the studio is great. Skylights and a door that opens to a sliver of the street. A sneaky way to get light and sky without being open to the street. Next month's postcard might be polymer plates but I am excited to start setting type!

November! Hello!

October is more summer-like here than I expected but today is grey and drizzly, slowly clearing. The dust bowl of back yard has been moistened and, despite all out ignored best intentions of the hundreds of things we want to plant there, grass just up and grew. That's good. Around this house right now it is helpful to have growing things with self-determination. Unlike these cats sitting next to me, patiently waiting to be fed again. That said, it doesn't mean things don't get done. They are just not the things we mean to do.

First, I planted the second half of our herb garden--now we have 5 pots (though 2 are edible flowers--those count!).

Meanwhile, Andy made another batch of the best red beans ever. He makes dinner often but this is consistently my favorite and the only thing we can figure as his secret is his true Louisiana bloodline (back to his grandpa from Ohio, but that's another story. There is a lot of Louisiana in him).

I've been binding books and cutting covers for new datebooks. They are not specific to start on any particular date so you don't need to wait for a new year. A few weeks ago we wandered around the Mission and found all these great covers. On the inside of our home we started handing things. Like a collection of creepy animal portraits over our stove. But you'll have to come over for dinner to see that. But this nice little postcard from Travis will greet you. Hey, friends on the east coast, especially New York--hello. After spending a few storms in Louisiana while faraway friends listened to the news and worried, it was my turn. Take care, all!

Preparations

I have the stamps,

the colorful tape,

the type set and then printed

and jobs in three printshops (this was the first thing I printed at Painted Tongue Press, a rainbow roll on the Vandercook for one of their cards). Then Moveable Type visited and I was all showing off my letterpress lifestyle in Oakland and I couldn't even remember the combination to the printshop at our house. No, I have not used the lovely lonely Vandercook in our garage. Sure, I've been working, biking to the beach and tired from the sneaky uphills that demoralize my ride to work---turns out I'm not so outta shape or tired or sick or so so slow, but that it is actually a long slow hill. A tricky kind of uphill that makes you feel like you're doing something all wrong since it LOOKS flat and everybody passes me. In Louisiana, it would be a hill. More postcards in the works. And I have been trying to adapt business tools to a more flexible economy, to blend better my love of making and sharing stuff and the financial reality of rent. I added an option to renew on etsy, if you have a postcard subscription or if you have been receiving cards and want to pay a little for postage but $15 is too much for you. I can't make it outright sliding scale without more programming knowledge, but I can refund you the difference. Slowly closing the gaps between some of the things I would like to do and the things I am doing.

Day Off

Luckily I have a smart sweetie who knows a good opportunity and convinces me to go to the country with our friends instead of trying to print next month's postcard when the printshop is closed anyway. So off we go, somehow only 70 miles from Oakland, there are levees and endless farmland where our friend has a small farm. She invited us there with a bunch of others for pumpkin picking and food and pie tasting and music. I helped sell squash and pumpkin and, in return, came home with a giant soup pumpkin, a jack-o-lantern-to-be and a belly full of pie. Who knew acorn squash pie is so good?

Andy wandered around the farm and took these great photos. As the sun went down, tired and wine-happy, we reluctantly got back in the car to drive to the city to our house which is finally officially well-stocked with food. Now if only I wasn't too tired to cook all week. Though I have 3 part-time jobs, they equal full-time work plus commuting. And this sinus sickness won't let go. But I have my three favorite postcards cheering me on and tonight, we might try and run the Vandercook in our garage.

Weekend Update

Yeah! Before the new year and before my personal datebook ran out, here are three more for the store with three more on the way. I opted against a 4th job so I could work on this stuff on the weekends but somehow there is always more to do than I have time for. Well, and I made chocolate chop cookies this morning. And yesterday Andy and I biked around the Bay. He took these photos that I edited a little. It was so nice to ride, look at the water, eat, and not do too much else. Now, back to work and "work".