Happy International Bacon Day!

I love it when my sentiments become a holiday! Printed sometime a few years ago, these are still available in my big cartel shop. Click here. xo

Baby It's Cold...

I know "weather talk" is about as boring as it gets, but for us Cream Puffs in the Bay Area, it is COLD out this morning! But alas, it's the perfect segue to talk about an upcoming Art Show that is happening next Friday:

As an irregular writer, if you have found me here chances are you've found me on Instagram (click). This is definitely my favorite outlet for social networking—it's a platform for people to take and share pictures of things that interest them, work they're doing, or really—just about anything. You can follow people (much like twitter) and with time, one might gather a group of really inspiring strangers.

Such is the case with fellow letterpress printer and sign painter Colt Bowden (click). I have been admiring his Colstagram for awhile, and have been wanting to purchase his 'zine, "How to Paint Signs and Influence People" (click). I first learned about him and his work through a fellow student at a sign painting class I took this Fall at New Bohemia Signs. Find him, follow him, adore him. He seems like such a nice guy.

Also curated by sign painter Ken Davis (click)—he is clearly a very talented guy to boot. I met Ken briefly at pal Nat's Bloom Screen Printing Shop, and I have been a fan ever since.

Lastly, The Pre-Vinylite Society (click) is a feast for the eyes and a great way to soothe your over-computed soul.

See you at the show! xo Victoria

Do the Hustle

Hello World!
It's been a few months, and this apparently seems to be my cycle.
Perhaps you've seen it from up-close or even afar: I get really busy, and then I work. There's a flurry of paper and presses, and then I meet deadlines. When I'm done, I am greeted with perhaps a few days in between projects. This is the point where I get to sit still and panic. I show up back here. One would think that after 10+ years of doing this, I would accept that this too, is part of my cycle.

I regroup, focus, think about where my work has been, and where it's headed. When in doubt, I make things (see above). I remain hungry.

Where am I going with all of this? With the passing of Spring, comes a new mindset. Where is my business going? What are my goals? Who cares? I try not to focus on the latter too much, but I am going to repost something that I've stumbled across on the internets that I found to be incredibly inspiring.

Not pictures or graphics, or a how-to, per say, but a Ted Talks featuring my new hero, Dr. Brené Brown. Have you seen it? She is so smart, so human, and frankly, so incredibly brave. As a business owner and a Mother, I can SO relate to what she is saying. What is it about vulnerability that is so difficult?

Here is the link, and I hope that all of you make some time to watch it:
http://www.ted.com/talks/brene_brown_on_vulnerability.html

I watched it and am inspired. I like to work. I want to work. I have had some very lucky breaks in this world in regards to people having found me thus far.  I have had my work published, and received emails from people who make me quietly freakout! with joy. Yet I work by myself. I have a small studio and I don't have a team of people that work for me. But this is what I do.

Here's the rub, and the very important fact: I can only do this if I have people who want my work. So—how do I do this?

In the spirit of Ms. Brown, this is how: I ask.

So, here is my plea to you, Universe: I am hoping to find some new people to work with. 

Benefits to you are that I work one-on-one with my clients. I manage and handle every aspect of our project together—just you and me! I am a craftsperson, and a very fine one at that. With many years of experience, I am quick to see if your design (if you are creating this) will work, and the best way to make it happen. If I am designing our project, I will do so in a professional, yet enjoyable manner.

We are allies in this, and we will make something beautiful!

Benefits to me are that I get to continue to do what I love. Yes, I am officially dancing here (click).

If you have made it this far, thank you! I truly appreciate your interest in my work, my blog, and my current thoughts. If you see the above promotional piece, and think you'd love to hold it in your dear hands, please leave a comment and send me an email (victoria[at]milkfedpress[dot]com) with your mailing address, and it's yours.

Thank you, Universe! xo Victoria

2013: The Happy Beginner

Hello All! It's a new year with new beginnings, and I'm still savoring the quiet pace that the first few weeks of January can bring. I feel like 2012 left with a mighty hectic boom, so I'm officially resolving to cool it with my resolutions.

While I have some exciting goals and projects coming down the pipeline, I am making sure I keep some press time open for learning. That's right—13 years later—I still feel like I have much to learn in regards to printing. Maybe not so much in the nuts and bolts of the craft, but I think I'm ready to try new things. Or really—go back to the beginning.

I started printing at Peter Koch's (click) amazing Berkeley studio. I didn't own a computer, I didn't know how to turn on a computer, and everything I learned about design, I learned in-hand, and on-press. At first with a few self-directed projects: Floating Holiday—a literary magazine my husband and I used to publish, show posters for bands I loved, and slowly by slowly, an invitation for a friend here, or a broadside for someone there. My fledgling business began to grow.

With this growth came new skills: I can turn on a computer, I've learned the various software involved to create or replicate what I learned in the beginning: to set type, create artwork, and now make the necessary plates to create the pieces I love. While everyone's design skills are subject to taste, I think I've become fairly proficient at it. If you're reading this, you might agree. But with this, comes a quiet set of challenges (for lack of a better word). I have trained myself to be a designer, and create most of my work using technology. I've become a perfectionist. Since I create custom work for people, it is a collaboration between us all. I love this part, and like any crafts person, I have become very attuned to the necessary skills to carry us all from point A (the meeting of the minds, sharing of the ideas) to the final point Z (the delivery of our hopes and dreams project). And it's from points B to Y that I quietly take our ideas and work through the process to carry it all over the finish line. 

And Dear Reader, this all might seem a bit rambly to you, but that last sentence is where I want to focus on: the process. 

In the beginning at Peter's, this process was fairly short. I had a fixed amount of materials (off-cuts of paper, various wooden or lead type), and a few cans of ink. That was it. I would have an idea, see what I had on hand to execute it, and basically create it all on the press. Only one lower-case l? Looks like I'll have to print, take out some letters, and print again with the one l to make it look like I had two all along. One color of ink? Hmmm... maybe if I print the first color lightly, and then overprint it again, I can get the effect of 2 colors. You get the picture. With the limits came the creativity. THIS is where I'm going with all of this. 

I'm not complaining, but sometimes—when I turn on my computer and have thousands of fonts at my disposal—the potential is both overwhelming and luxurious. I've developed a library of vendors that is at least 4 pages long, so my potential for paper and envelopes is never-ending. Perhaps this is a more zen approach, but I feel like for me in my extra time—less will be my more. I now appreciate the days when having one kind of paper, perhaps a missing-l, made me think outside the box. I felt like it pushed me in a way that I don't have to push myself today. I have all that I could need and with all of that, I miss that excited feeling of not knowing what I could possibly make when I don't have much to start with. And then I do. 

Now this might be the part where you pull out the world's smallest violin for me—I know! But in my resolve for no resolutions I will make this concession: I want to remain fresh. I want to have happy accidents. I want to make mistakes that don't matter, and in this is the learning. 

So, this is my plan, and I want to involve you! In my spare time for the past few months on my Milkfed Press Facebook page (click), I've invited my people to leave a one-word comment. For those that do, I take their word (can be anything—that's for them to decide), and create a print for them. Typically 8 x 10, and I use whatever materials I have on-hand. And I create. And I make mistakes—even a few happy accidents. And the best part? I send each participant a print of their word. 

I'm amused to observe how I am approaching this while on-press. Since I'm limiting myself to wood and lead type on-hand, at first, I was trying to make the letters and spacing as perfect as possible. Kerning (the amount of space between the letters) is something that I learned at Peter's, and no one can see "brasses and coppers" (small spacers—brass being a bit wider than copper) better than he—he is a Typographic Master. Then I started fiddling with my press, focusing on roller height, packing, and all kinds of things that no one ever sees or knows about (unless it's done poorly). Slowly by slowly I started to loosen up. I started overprinting. I started thinking about the words, and the design itself. I started getting itchy for more type options. I started getting uncomfortable, and THIS is the state I want to be in. This is the place where I can learn. 

Yes, the irony that I'm using a computer to set up my playground is not lost on me. But I love the notion of taking something like Facebook, and together, creating something real and tangible. 

I'll be curious to see at the end of the year how this spare time project will affect my custom work. I can only imagine that this is exactly the push I need to bring it to the next level. We shall see. 

Thank you for reading this and for supporting me! I really do appreciate it. 

Here's to health, happiness, and happy accidents in 2013. xo Victoria

Thank You For Smoking

Say what you will about smoking (personally not for me), but typographically-speaking, I'd be remiss if I didn't talk about my absolute love of packaging when it comes to all-things-smoking. What? You don't know what I'm talking about? I know people tend to simply liken cigarette rolling papers to potheads, but there is a rich history in regards to design, packaging and frankly—fantastic marketing. Perhaps its the addictive qualities of cigarettes themselves that keeps one coming back, but why do we choose the brands we do? For me, it would be simple. I would choose the prettiest package and go from there. And I know what some of you may be thinking— that's why it's wrong that the companies produce such pretty packaging. But for me, the lure is also a hallmark (no pun intended) of great design and marketing. I myself wouldn't blame the tobacco companies for this. Great Art simply cannot go along without Politics, right?

All of that aside, I'm approaching this from more of a crafts/design perspective. Years ago I had a friend who would send me Cigarette (Trading/Advertising) Cards—a perfect example of conscious, clever marketing. And fun. The W.D. and H.O. Wills Company (later to found Britain's Imperial Tobacco Company) were one of the first companies to include these sets of cards with their cigarettes. Six years later, in 1893, John Player and Sons produced one of the first general interest sets: "Castles and Abbeys". Like a cracker-jack prize for Adults, or perhaps the children that live with them. I cannot deny the fact that I would probably would have bought a pack of cigarettes, just to get the card:

I'm reminded as I type this that John Player and Sons also produced my Dear Friend's very favorite cigarettes—Player's Navy Cut. I still, to this day, want the box every time he finishes them. I fully admit here to a sentimental and nostalgic, warmfuzzy-feeling every time I see their logo:

I'm not alone in this; there are quite a few articles online about who exactly the man on the box may have been. From what I can gather, more fingers point towards a Sailor named Thomas Huntley, but without confirmation, I can just adore the lore (click) that goes along with this. Certainly not all packaging provides this type of contemplation. I think part of my sentiment stems from a time where creative spirit relied on one's imagination. An image on a box now becomes the simple embodiment of adventure and spirit. Tangible. Something one hopes for, but for now or until then, can simply be held in the palm of your hand. Back to the Advertising Cards—Wills Co. followed up a year or so later with their, "Ships and Sailors", followed by "Cricketers" and so on. Popular themes were "Beauties" (what my friend used to send), "Sporters" (uniforms, team colors, etc.), "Heraldry" (very popular) and "Air Raid Precautions" (in 1938 Great Britain—what I'm guessing to be a more sobering/educational series geared to help the citizens cope with the war).

Below is an example of what is called, "The Holy Grail" of Cigarette Trading Cards—The Honus Wagner Card (from the American Tobacco Company's Minor League/T206 Set):

The example above sold for over $2 Million. Theories as to the rarity of the card are tied. It was produced in a fairly small edition and my favorite story as to why is that the plate used in the printing process simply broke, and the printer did not make another. This doesn't make any sense, but I appreciate that Historians give Printers such power (!). Some claim a copyright dispute between the original artist and the American Tobacco Company turned sour, and the thought being than Wagner didn't want to be associated with cigarette smoking (though he loved chewing tobacco and his image was depicted on cigar boxes). Most likely is that he wanted better $ compensation. And now the card is worth millions. Oh, irony, you never cease to amuse me.

Perhaps you've seen them around, but have you ever opened up a package of Zig Zag (click) rolling papers? The design, die-cutting and attention to detail is impeccable. A perfect use of materials, in my opinion. Having just written this, I popped around the internet and would be an absolute jerk if I didn't mention Zig Zag's (seriously fantastic) website (click). Have a look to learn more about the process and history of their papers. See? I know what I speak of! As a bookbinder and printer, I can't help but love the the cross-overs in both of our crafts (just turn down the music—it's not helping that jazzy-pot-thing). Worlds Collide, indeed.

On that note, I will leave you this last website to swoon over: the Catalogue of Cigarette Rolling Papers (click). I could honestly spend hours poring over the beauty, detail and craft that is used to create such simple, everyday items. Happy Friday! xo Victoria