I ordered some business cards.
In many, many colours. As has become my way.
This is what a box full of
Christie Zimmer Journal Design business cards looks like:
That box. It makes me smile.
This is what my new cards look like when placed, checkerboard-like, on our well-loved, well-scratched, well-drawn-upon, well-dented coffee table:
(Notice how I have strategically covered up all of the scratches and dents with business cards?)
This is what they look like up close, so that you can see the front and the back:
I have decided that, if at all possible, every single piece of paper you ever receive from me will have a spot for you to take a moment and write something on it.
Because that is what we do.
And there is more to come. I am nearing the end, I think, of the process of listing my pocket journals.
Yesterday, I spent hours and hours taking photographs to go with the listing. After at least a zillion shots, I decided that I hated each and every last picture. I really despised them. All of them. And my lovely children, who are lovely, and my lovely husband, who is unflinchingly supportive of my every endeavour, had to listen to a long list of reasons why it would never work, this particular endeavour of selling simple pocket journals. Never work, I say. And don't even try to tell me that I might be overreacting. Because I am the very essence of a rational thinker.
Looking back on the photo fiasco, I know that I set an impossible standard. I knew that yesterday, even as I was struggling to meet it. Exceedingly perfect was the standard. Simple, yet sophisticated. Uncluttered, but warm. With angelic light and brilliant colour and perfect clarity. And I wanted it to come together magically in my happy, but recently neglected, home. Oh, and in a couple of hours, while the girls were at school. And when school was finished, but I wasn't, I was left grappling with fading light and tired, hungry children, and my focus was gone and it pretty much went downhill from there. To the dark places, where I suck at everything and I'm failing everyone. Which is hogwash. And definitely signals the moment at which an adult-strength timeout is required.
Anyhoo, I had a light bulb moment today and I think I may have figured out how to take those diabolical photos. So wish me luck. :)
This weekend is crammed full of schedule-busting, non-journal-related commitments, but I'll be back at it every moment that isn't already taken and with any luck, next week will be the week.
Happy weekend to you!
hugs,
Christie