Growing a Business

I need to get out of the house more.
I've become house-bound.  When I'm home, in my apartment, all I want to do is find ways to stay there.
This leads to a bit of loopy dis-reality.
This means, where I once used to change my pants between the dog park (where it was wet and muddy and smeared with dog slobber), I now find reasons to head right into the day...dogpants and all!

All for the love of work, go I. 
Standing in front of a host of issues that don't always feel like issues, but start to just feel like growing pains,  I see our small business getting bigger.  I feel the pain and aches that come with repeating the same motion over and over (open card, stuff envelope, sleeve on, wrap) but the motion feels better these days.  As if I'm just getting going here, folks.  And if nothing else, it's a wild and wonderful ride, this world of ownership. 

8mm ideas inventory has arrived!

Investing, growing, moving and shaking!  Running a small business is beyond frightening. 

but, Gads!  I freaking LOVE it.


(yes, this is how it can feel)

Happy Valentine's Day, Dear John

just three of many, many 'dear john' letters i wrote years ago for a large art piece, now sold.  i've always thought they would make interesting postcards.  but they're also kinda fun for valentine's day, too.  this day can really wreak havoc with some and it always amazed me that we go to the furthest ends, both high and low, for those we love or love no more on this random day of the year.

mind you, these 'dear john' letters don't necessarily reflect how i feel about love:   i'm actually madly in love with my husband, but we don't really celebrate this singular day and i must admit, there's some relief to that.  we tend to tell each other how we feel about one another on many of the other days. 



*and if you think 'dear john' letters are a bummer, can you imagine being in saudi arabia today?

House Crawl

It's come to my attention that I'm a bit of a connector-type.  I truly don't know if I already knew that about myself, or if it's something I realized only after being told.  I'm running with the latter.  It feels totally natural to me.  Actually, some might see it as a sort of addiction to getting to know people.  And I often like those people I know to know more people I know, too.  Also known as bringing people together.

A boy I liked in college, whose name is a complete blank to me today..(how strange),

introduced me to someone at a party and the way he did it seemed to hit it on the nose:  He told this other person, meeting [me] is to soon feel like you've known [me] forever.  Then in a spot-on imitation he put his hand out, clearly looking for a firm hand-shake in return, and said with a big smile:  hi!-im!-molly!-meng!

I was stunned.  How had he seen that about me, I wondered?

Of course, he's so totally right on it's scary.  I wasn't doing any sort of job hiding that part of my personality.  Out loud, I pooh-poohed it.  No, not really, I think I said.  It seemed too basic.  I felt too exposed.  I'd somehow grown to think this over eager interest in others wasn't particularly a good thing.

I don't struggle with it anymore.  In fact, I totally celebrate the fact that I dig people.  I'm hella curious about people, about human nature, about what people do and don't do, and the whys and the why-nots and by the extreme cases I've never even imagined.  I dig getting to know people.  And, for me, chit-chat and small talk seems a little too surface.  I like getting right down into it.  I get it from my family.  Everyone in my family likes to talk to strangers.  And almost no topic is sacred. It's what brings us to some really great stories.

I've lived, solidly, in two buildings as an adult.  One, in NYC, where we all knew each other on a pretty open door policy, and the one we live in here in SF, where if someone comes out of the building that we don't know, we make eyes at each other and greet them with that polite but questionable 'hello?'

If you ask my old neighbors in New York what brought us together, many of them point to a fire we had early on in the building that, apparently, I insisted affected us all.  We held meetings on our first floor landing and became our own best landlords.  From there on out, I figured we were all in this together, why not live that way?

Many years later, now in San Francisco, on a warm December night, I find myself and RK roaming our building, moving from one apartment to the next with drinks and food flowing, all these neighbors now friends finally seeing the inside life of the person they pass at the mailbox everyday.  We had a house crawl!  Curiosity got the best of me (and a number of neighbors now friends) and we all agreed a house crawl seemed like a win-win for everyone. There I go again, assuming everyone wants to expose it all!

But every neighbor was a 'yes' and everyone joined in that night, mixing a signature drink and trying to keep us on the hour-per-apt. rule we tried to keep.  Hitting 8 homes in one night is a big commitment.

It's been a year since then, and we're still all talking about it.  How it was one of those magical nights that seemed like something from childhood:  mini hot dogs, funny mixed drinks, talking about all the neighborhood gossip.  That night, it did feel like we'd known each other forever.

It just so happened that, in a matter of days, one of our good neighbors turned friend was moving out and moving on.  That night, as we all stood on the fire escape and looked out over the city, he smoked his first cigarette in 10 years and reminisced about his 15 years spent in that building:  The neighbors, the friends, the stories, the time spent ended not with a firm handshake (as it may very well have started) but goodbye hugs all around and a knowledge we'd made a connection here.

Love face

Love face, a photo by mollshot on Flickr.

What If

Sometimes, only one person is missing, 

and the whole world seems depopulated.
— Alphonse de Lamartine

A really gorgeous, thoughtful children's book came out recently from French illustrator Blexbolex. And it's not just about people, but about the human condition.  The human condition is something I think about a lot.  This book I held in my hands, so easily shows the subtle commentary on the dichotomies of lives chosen or just plain lived.  We all exist alongside each other, our lives or our deaths can affect the people not only around us, but around the world.

The butterfly effect is something I believe in.  Some days I feel like I just have to.

because sometimes you just want to laugh

Day after Day, Time into Time

 via

And Maya Angelou writes...

I’ve learned that no matter what happens, or how bad it seems today, life does go on, and it will be better tomorrow. I’ve learned that you can tell a lot about a person by the way he/she handles these three things: a rainy day, lost luggage, and tangled Christmas tree lights. I’ve learned that regardless of your relationship with your parents, you’ll miss them when they’re gone from your life. I’ve learned that making a “living” is not the same thing as making a “life.” I’ve learned that life sometimes gives you a second chance. I’ve learned that you shouldn’t go through life with a catcher’s mitt on both hands; you need to be able to throw something back. I’ve learned that whenever I decide something with an open heart, I usually make the right decision. I’ve learned that even when I have pains, I don’t have to be one. I’ve learned that every day you should reach out and touch someone. People love a warm hug, or just a friendly pat on the back. I’ve learned that I still have a lot to learn. I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.

leaving brings the lonely

'You’ll get over it…' It’s the clichés that cause the trouble. 

To lose someone you love is to alter your life for ever. 

You don’t get over it because ‘it” is the person you loved. 

The pain stops, there are new people, but the gap never loses. How could it? 

The particularness of someone who mattered enough to grieve over is not made anodyne by death. 

This hole in my heart is in the shape of you and no-one else can fit it. Why would I want them to?
— Jeanette Winterson

On December 14th, one of the best friends I've ever had, was killed.
It was a story heard around the world.
I know this because before I actually got the call from our good friend in New York that Suzanne had left this universe, an unread email sat in my inbox from a friend in Germany who had heard the 'news'.  And it's 'news' in semi-quotes because it actually was news, the kind you instantly hear about on the radio and the kind that's played on the TV.  And while it feels like there's a hole in me that sometimes feels as if it's filling up with the 'news' and I'm about to drown,  it's also the part that keeps her memory alive and talked about by people that never even knew her but now wish they had.  And that's the part that is both strange and wonderful.  Two things I never thought I'd feel about someone's death.
I've never been through it this closely.
maybe it's age.   maybe it's awareness.
      Or maybe it's awareness that comes with age.

I've struggled with writing about her and not writing about her.  Wanting to explain just how much she means to me.  I'm not sure I can put into words...
With Suzanne, I was vulnerable.  I hate being vulnerable, as much as I hate getting a shot.  With Suzanne, I couldn't even feel it.  It turns out, I realize in these days without it now, I relied on her sense of humor, her incredibly quick wit, her total interest in others, and a level of acceptance that was unparalleled in any other person I've known.   

This would make her laugh.
Everything I just wrote, she'd laugh self-deprecatingly and say, "yeah, right."
And that's been the hardest part of this whole thing:  Knowing I'll never hear her voice in this world again.  I talk to her every single day, hearing her voice in my head so clearly, but some days the realization that I won't hear her laughter ring out, makes me gasp with fear.
I found this world easier with her in it.
And everyone I know that knew her felt exactly the same way.
      That's a really goddamn big loss.

And while denial can't be totally healthy for long, it feels,
rationally so,
that it's incredibly disrespectful to admit or even to accept that she's actually gone.
So, for now at least, I'm pretending she's not.
That may seem the strange part.

And yet, the incredibly wonderful part is that, in reality, Suzanne lives on in the big apple,
a place we both loved completely and completely lived for;
her name placed in Central Park on a bench for you and yours to rest on
and a tree for you to be shaded by.

That's just the way she is.

Admiring MLK

Man has the greater capacity for goodness, and the potential for evil. --Martin Luther King, JR

Nothing Quite Like It

via

Art of Craft? oui

I have the sweet opportunity of being one of a small group of exceptionally talented artists and teachers that have been invited to teach a class during a fabulous weekend held at French General in Los Angeles, called The Art of Craft. 

It's the 2nd annual Art of Craft weekend and the last one proved to be a craft-a-thon like none other.  I know, this time around, we're out for more of the same goodness, french-ness, craftiness, camaraderie, creativity, and out-and-out fun. 
I'll be leading the Pocket-Memory Book class:  A non-binding book made with everyday envelopes and tons of great vintage materials.

The great thing about all the classes I've taught over the years, is seeing the students "fear" of creativity at the beginning of the class turn into no-holds-barred creativity by the end!  So many of us think we're creative-less and it's just not true!  It's marvelous to watch people come up with their own ideas, inspired by the original or inspired by the person they're sitting next to or by the materials provided (each class during the weekend comes with a kit to create your craft).  Head over to French General's website and sign up for classes by Pam Garrison, Charlotte Lyons, Michelle Jorgensen, Kaari Meng, Anna Corba and moi!  It may just be the beginning of your future of crafting and creating and community. It's a wonderful weekend that shouldn't be missed!

I love having a studio.  It's not something I'd ever dreamed of, or even thought was a reality of adulthood.  Though I'd seen other artist's studios and garages-turned-workshop, it seemed like one of those far off things.  It sometimes feels incredibly strange that it feels so incredibly normal:  I've had an art studio for almost 7 years.  I absolutely love where my studio is now, at Art Explosion.  Very different than the last studio I had, the artists I've met here have been some of my biggest influences and an incredible amount of support.  Artists are working consistently, any hour of any day, you can find the halls full of conversation and the smell of paint. 

My studio feels like a little shop, a front window full of items, and a long wall full of work.  More and more these days I think about opening a shop on some little side street.  Funny thing is, the shop is something I'd be returning to:  A reality of adulthood many years ago, when my sister and I owned a little destination shop in NYC. 

In the meantime, I'll keep doing what I'm doing (a new series of little cigar boxes) and let the shops I know and love run things on the street.  I'm loving that 8mm ideas is represented in so many of these amazing stores:
Green Apple Books
The Booksmith
The Desk Set
Daisy's
Library Store
Paper Sky
Skylight Books
Perch

And you,
you can stop by and see what we're all up to at Art Explosion's Annual Holiday Show.  Maybe it'll get your own inspirational vibe moving and grooving just in time for the new year.

It's ARTICLE time!

 There is so much I wouldn't know if it weren't for the power of my mother's scissors:

 And this, is one of my favorites.
('a must' click to read)

Feeling gratitude and not expressing it is like wrapping a present and not giving it. 

~william arthur ward

Sure, you can say 'thanks' anytime, but today seems like an awfully good time to say it to everyone.  Happy Thanksgiving.

Other People's Lives

I have an addiction.  And usually, the first step, is admitting it.
Problem is, as long as their are estate sales, flea markets, boot sales and sidewalks with stuff for sale, I'm never getting over this one.
Every month, I think the same thing:  I probably have enough stuff by now.  I've got thousands of old photos, and hundreds of old letters, multiple family photo albums, many, many notebooks,  dictionaries galore and an untold amount of playing card collections.
Other peoples stuff. Mine now.  Who's later?
I asked the owner of the estate sale company, Guy, if this job made him more of a hoarder or more of a minimalist.  His answer, both surprising and inevitable, was minimalist.  With a caveat of trying to live by the motto of letting one thing go when you bring another in.  Yeah, I've always told myself I do that, too.
And it's true, to an extent.  Though I'm not sure RK would agree, I think I live by this motto at home.  I absolutely in no way apply this same rule to my studio.  Whatsoever.
And that, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, is how I justify buying one more photo, another letter, the filled-up photo album, the half-empty notebooks, and the Webster's of a different year.
This past weekend was no different:  the photos I came home with will be up at my blog other people's lives all this coming week, the 10 wood boxes I came home with, and lovingly cleaned, will be turned into new work by the time of the next open studios, the geography book is a piece of history that can only be read to be believed and the 2-foot snapshot of the Forks and Knives club of San Francisco has already entertained RK and I for a good hour.  I HAD to get it!  I'm still a little sad I couldn't get both of them.
Bring in:  BUYERS REMORSE!
I think because my sister, a fellow collector, has a few more years experience, she's better at saying 'no'.  As in, 'no i don't really need that, because i don't really want that. moving on!'  I often think I must have something and then curse myself for spending the $5 on it when I get home.  This is a hoarder/bargainers brain.  I live with it.  RK constantly telling me to 'let it go', by which he means either let it go out of your brain or let it go in a sale.
So, I let it go.  Out of my brain.  Mostly.

But I do have to get to the flea market next week... I just know there's something I need.

Animal Love, Anyone?

Just because I know my own dog is gorgeous and sweet and adorable and juicy...doesn't mean I can't appreciate the cuteness in others.  Even cats.

Until one has loved an animal,
a part of one’s soul remains unawakened.
- Anatole France

We can judge the heart of a man by his treatment of animals.
- Immanual Kant

all images from the fabulous website Trend Tablet

Today's date is 11.11.11
which is really pretty cool.  As cool as 4.4.4 and 5.5.5 and 6.6.6, etc
but, we're talking about today.
I don't think it has any huge karmic significance or that things are going to 'happen' because of this interesting time scale.
But, it is cool and pretty neat and fun to think about.


Just like this monkey.



And this amazing project by Amy Krouse.

i took that image and i stitched it carefully into the hem of my own life

I didn't hesitate a bit last week when a friend handed me her half-finished (evident by a classic bookmark:  the book flap) copy of Committed by Elizabeth Gilbert.

I'm one of few people I know personally that really, really liked the book Eat, Pray, Love.  
I  liked it so much I bought multiple copies and gave them to a few very good friends, including my sister.  I thought each one of them would love it in their own unique way.
Only one of those people actually finished it.

That's cool.  It's not for everyone.
Mostly the feedback I heard was that they didn't like her voice.  They didn't like her.
Her is Elizabeth Gilbert, the author of this very autobiographical book.
They thought she was whiny.
And she's the same reason why my friend handed me her not-quite-finished copy of Committed.

I must say... during the reading of both of these books, I never even thought of her. 
The words she wrote, I applied them differently to my life.
The same way I think we all do, with every book we either love or hate.
A book on one end of the spectrum or the other, for you, most likely has a recurring 'thing' about it that just doesn't let up.  But, to me, books are a bunch of mundane or pretty good or fantastic lines of poetry.  I get caught up in a good story as much as the next guy, but really, for me, reading is like a river that you dip your toes in and out of.  Words pop out at me as beautiful, and little stories in themselves.  Put together in an arresting sentence, well, you've got me.  And, I wasn't an English major in spite of this fact, but because of this fact.

As evidenced, I'm not thinking of Elizabeth Gilbert.  I've only ever seen her on the book-jacket and I've never heard her speak.
I don't know anything about her but what she told me in the book before this one.
So, I jump in and find the next beautiful word, wherever it may find me.

ps: i really did enjoy Committed (title of post paraphrasing a line from the book)  i've even recommended it a few times now, but tend to mention it's available at the library...

pps: it's a great big world out there, you don't want to loose your place...may i recommend this collection?

 

bookmarks:  checkit

The Way To Start A Monday

God Says Yes to Me
by Kaylin Haught

I asked God if it was okay to be melodramatic
and she said yes
I asked her if it was okay to be short
and she said it sure is
I asked her if I could wear nail polish
or not wear nail polish
and she said honey
she calls me that sometimes
she said you can do just exactly
what you want to
Thanks God I said
And is it even okay if I don't paragraph
my letters
Sweetcakes God said
who knows where she picked that up
what I'm telling you is
Yes Yes Yes



sent to me by my friend, catherine, who's always ready with a 'yes yes yes', as well.

Dating Myself

My sister is a HUGE fan of Rick Astley, always has been, but she tries to play it off like I'M the huge fan and is forever taunting me with moments of Astley:  She had pencils made for me that say 'rick astley fan club';  She calls me from whatever dressing room or restaurant she's in and holds her phone up to the speaker that's blasting his tunes.  Yesterday, she sent me the above image.  Ahh, it takes me back to her youth.

It Tends To Happen When You're Not Looking

If your parents are anything like my parents, you get a lot of forwarded emails:  Bad jokes, pictures you can't quite see, political items that verge on the edge, religious ideas that are on it's 15th forward and, every once in awhile, some really great quotes.  Then, sometimes, you get one of these forwarded emails from your parents that is right up your alley:  They do know you well and are often paying attention to things you like, rave about, or are just plain interested in.  This morning, I got one of those.



It's a beautiful way to start the day... And it puts me in mind of my own RK, who's done timelapse photography for years and is perfecting it each time he does another.  Flowers were his obsession for awhile, but he's caught the longest day of the year, as well as the moon.  It passed us by while we slept...as these things tend to do.


 

of course, all videos are always more enjoyable in full screen: So, hit it to get it!