Blog — "daily life"

What does Monday night look like around these parts? Picture this. Andrew sitting on the floor, painting our front door and trim. Me lounging in a comfy chair, guitar in hand with an iPad nearby to look up chords for various songs. I started with Boy & Bear's "Arrow Flight" simply because I wanted to learn it. And then the games began.

Andrew chose a letter followed by a vowel, and I would play a song from the first artist I knew that started with those letters. He chose S and U. Supertramp's "Take the Long Way Home" was first. And through the same course of picking letters, I moved on to Moon Taxi's "Morocco," Death Cab for Cutie's "I Will Possess Your Heart," Simon & Garfunkle's "The Boxer," and Jimmy Fallon's "Tebowie."

Before we knew it, "Tebowie" morphed into a Bowie sing along of "Moonage Daydream," "Modern Love," and "Space Oddity" with Andrew picking up a second guitar and playing along. Fingers tired, we set down the guitars and listened to Bowie's The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars starting from "Starman" onward at a volume level probably completely unnecessary for 10:30 at night.

Sometimes we have friends ask us what we do in the evenings instead of watching TV, and if I were to answer that question honestly, most nights would look something like this. A little random and impossible to recreate because they're all different. And usually, at some point in the evening, we find ourselves in fits of laughter, much like last night when I sprang "Tebowie" on an unsuspecting Andrew.

When was the last time you listened to an album at full blast just so that you could really hear it? Or let the evening decide which form it was going to take on its own? If you don't have plans this week, shut off the tv, put down the phone, and let things happen.

Adulting is hard. Even harder? Finding and keeping good friends as an adult. When I read DESIGNLOVEFEST's recent Real Talk series about adult friendships the other day, there were so many points that I could relate to. And one of the biggest takeaways was that I'm not the only one that thinks adult friendships are ridiculously difficult.

When Andrew and I moved to Baltimore, we knew no one in this city except for a friend that we went to Syracuse with and grew up in the area and had moved back after college. Making friends took a little bit of time, but we got to know some people through work and started spending time with them. We'd meet up for happy hours, have get togethers at each others' houses and slowly we found a group of people that we were comfortable with, spent a lot of time with, but were never super close with on a one on one basis. Then things changed.

A lot of the people we got to know were older than us. Many of them moved out of the city and had kids. Several of them moved to completely different cities as they were ready for a new phase in their lives. Only a few of those friendships remained and we found ourselves spending most of our time with a few couples that we'd known the longest.

After I quit my teaching job, things changed even more. A lot of the people that I had previously spent time with were no longer a part of my daily life and so those friendships slowly slipped away. I made an effort in the first year to invite as many of them as I could to various functions, but over time it became obvious that our lives were headed in very different directions and that those friendships had never been close ones to begin with. I learned the hard way that co-workers and friends are not always one in the same.

And still in the last couple of years things have changed. Close friends have moved. Some have had babies. As these closer friendships have drifted apart, some have felt like sudden breakups while others have left us feeling as though we've been forgotten. And we've found ourselves almost back at square one of a process that took nearly seven years.

We've come to realize that things were always different from the beginning when we first moved to Baltimore. Neither of us have those best friends that we had while in high school or college, you know, the ones that you can talk to about anything under the sun or call up in a moment's notice to grab coffee. We don't have the types of friends that you'd have a girls or guys night with. We don't have a core group of people who feel like brothers or sisters. Even though we had these kinds of friendships at earlier points in our lives, they're now mostly non-existent as we grow older.

For the most part, we're ok with it all. We're pretty low key individuals and we tend to like to be in our own little bubble. But there's also a part of us that often wonders why friendships are so hard. We've noticed that a lot of social situations in which we could meet new people often revolve around alcohol and partying, which is another hugely mystifying thing. It almost feels as if nothing is genuine anymore. People don't want to take the time to sit down and have meaningful conversation.

On the other hand, we're inundated by how things are "supposed" to be. Society and media tells us that women are supposed to have their "squad" of friends, the women that are like sisters, the Sex in the City group that doesn't hold back about any detail in their daily lives. But let's be real for a moment. I've read articles that show photos of women huddled together on a bed having a sleepover in their pajamas. Photos of women arm in arm having a picture perfect picnic in the park. Or women dressed to the nines, hugging each other, and toasting champagne over brunch like it's a totally normal daily occurrence.

And then I think about the reality and ridiculousness of it all. Isn't it a bit absurd and maybe even immature? In reality, how authentic are these types of friendships? And for those in real life that portray their friendships in this way, is it reality or is it presented that way only because we've been taught by society to do so? On one hand, I'd love to have a group of girlfriends that was close enough that we could jet off together and stay at some Caribbean resort for a week with not a care in the world. On the other, why is it that these are the ideals and almost expectations of friendship that we've been handed by society?

When I think of all of those implications, I begin to wonder if friendships aren't all that they're cracked up to be. Maybe it's ok that I'm in my bubble with Andrew, managing to spend time here and there with the few friends that we have left between our time spent together doing our own thing. Maybe it's ok to be out there in the world by yourself doing your own thing. Adult friendships are hard, and maybe that's ok.

How do you feel about friendships as an adult? Have you found yourself in these in between moments where the dynamics of your friendships have changed? Do you prefer to stay in your own bubble or is having a close knit group of friends important to you?

I was a little quiet around these parts last week, but I had two days off. TWO! That doesn't happen all that often. I took last Monday off since Andrew had the day off for Presidents' Day, and then we both took Friday off in order to take our annual three day weekend trip up to Syracuse. And now here we are, back to the grind on this fine Monday morning.

As many of you know, Andrew and I attended and met at Syracuse University. Every year, we go back to meet up with friends and go to a basketball game. We spent five years total in the Salt City because Andrew's architecture degree was a five year program. I spent that fifth year living there and working at a local coffee shop. As a result of my fifth year there, we spent a lot more time off campus and actually exploring the city. Each year when we go back, we have a plethora of watering holes and restaurants we want to check off our list both on campus and off.

Syracuse is not a city for the weak. It averages nearly 10 feet of snow per year and is known for its brutally cold winters and bitter winds. This past weekend, we were lucky to enjoy a pint at one of our favorite college bars on their patio, in the sun, without a coat. We had nearly 60 degree weather on Saturday, and we certainly weren't complaining. We've grown accustomed to mild Baltimore winters and don't usually look forward to the weather that we'll potentially encounter when we head back to Syracuse.

No matter the weather in Syracuse, a trip back always provides a break from our hectic schedules. We usually plan the trip for right after Valentine's Day, so it has become my light at the end of the tunnel during my busiest season. It's a chance to see friends that you don't often see and pick right back up where you left off. It's a reminder of the simple things in life sometimes as well.

While roaming campus after the basketball game was over, we made a last minute pit stop at Varsity, our favorite pizza joint. We grabbed a two dollar slice of pizza on a paper plate and walked across campus, back to our car, while eating the pizza. We laughed as we thought about how many times had we made that same trek back to our off campus apartments with a mouth full of pizza. It was such a simple thing, yet it was the most ridiculously fun way to pass the time ten years ago when we were students.

Despite all of the insanity that comes with being a sleep deprived, poor, and overworked college student, we made it fun. It made us wonder why so many people, and even admittedly ourselves at times, no longer seek joy is some of the silliest of things. We've let this notion of how our adult lives are supposed to be take over instead of savoring the smallest of things, like a silly old two dollar slice of pizza. As odd as it may seem, that trek across campus on Saturday was a reminder to take a moment to stop every now and again in our busy lives and just enjoy those simple things. It doesn't have to be as complicated as it seems.

The past week has been slow in all senses of the word. The post-Valentine lull has arrived in my shop, I'm physically tired from the busy season and have been slow to start my days, the week has felt as though it's been creeping along, and I'm having trouble in the creative department.

This is not unusual. I have times like these throughout the year where I find myself needing to reboot. I might even have a mile long list of card ideas just waiting to be designed, but I just can't jump start my mind to get to the point of putting those ideas onto paper. When I'm stuck, I've found that there are a few things that help me to get out of that creative rut and become more productive again.

1 // Find a change of scenery. Usually this means that I pack up my tote with some sketchbooks, my idea book, and my pouch full of pens and markers and head to a coffee shop. I leave my computer behind, so I'm not likely to fall into a black hole, and I order a latte and a snack and just start sketching. Getting out of my studio and out of the house is a break from the norm that helps with productivity.

2 // Look for inspiration by visiting an art gallery. Sometimes when I'm in a creative rut, I need something to act as my brain's jumper cables. Being surrounded by art, reading the stories of the artists, and taking in different colors, textures, and ideas always leaves me feeling refreshed. This past Monday, I found myself in the American Art Museum in Washington, DC amidst O'Keefe, Miró, Picasso, Hockney, Lichtenstein, and Calder. I left the gallery feeling refreshed.

3 // Do something creative that isn't what you normally do. Sometimes I simply need a break. As much as I love illustration and design, doing the same thing over and over again can be monotonous. When I'm feeling a little this way, I turn to other outlets. I work on a craft project, bake something or try a new dinner recipe, play guitar or piano, or try a different art medium such as paint or pastel. Doing something different helps clear the mind and leaves me ready to come back to the task at hand.

4 // Get outside and explore your surroundings. Fresh air is one of the best ways to get the creative juices flowing. I might go hiking at a state park, go to the arboretum, or take a walk along the water. And you never know what you might see that will be inspiring in some way.

5 // Make plans to meet up with other creative people. Talking with others that are artistically minded is a huge creative booster. Hearing about projects others are taking on often helps to get my wheels spinning. My gold foil landscape prints came about after grabbing coffee with my cousin who is a painter. And I sometimes get ideas for designs while chatting with other card makers.

Is anyone else feeling a little stuck these days? Maybe it's just the winter weather bringing me down. Nothing like some good sunshine to boost my mood and productivity!

It wasn't until recently that I really thought about the family I am a part of as all being one in the same. And I don't mean that we're all the same people. We're all very different, but we all have something in common with our occupations-- we're makers. This was the norm growing up, so I don't think I ever thought anything of it. Certainly, I had always felt a bit out of the norm while explaining my parents' occupations, but it was also what has always been, and so I knew nothing else.

It wasn't until recently when I wrote this post, and my dad happened to like it, that I remembered my battles are the same ones that many in my family have fought over the years. Yes, we've talked about these topics quite a bit, but I just never stopped to think that we're in our own little world-- a world that many don't quite understand or will ever understand. We're outside of the box drawn by traditional career pathways and social norms, making a living off of something we're all passionate about doing-- making things.

My father is a luthier. For those that aren't familiar with that word, he builds instruments for a living-- mostly acoustic guitars and mandolins. He taught himself how to build his first guitar in his 20s, and he kept building them. He is a master woodworker outside of the guitar making realm as well, having spent years also building furniture and creating beautifully detailed woodwork in others' homes and ours as well. When my sister and I were little, he was a stay at home dad. His guitar shop was in a spare room in our house and he was able to work away while also taking care of us at home. In high school, I would go straight to his guitar shop after school, and I worked with him to build my own electric guitar.

My mother is a baker. She owns and operates a European style bakery that offers bread, pastries, and other food options. She bakes a large portion of her bread in a woodfired oven that my dad built. Her bakery began in the same spare room that my father's guitar shop used to be. She moved a massive four shelf commercial oven into the room when I was in elementary school. 21 years ago, the demand for her bread grew so much that she moved the bakery into a larger space outside of our home and officially opened the bakery. Several years later, she moved the bakery again into an even larger space, where she is currently located. I grew up with amazing bread and food as the norm and early on, I spent my summer working for her, running the cash register and serving customers.

And my sister knits and paints. Her knitted and painted apparel is her occupation. I don't ever remember a time when my sister wasn't making something. Growing up, we'd spent countless hours at a newspaper covered table painting with watercolors. Or we'd be up in the wee hours hunched over our sketch books with a fist full of markers. In high school we shared art projects. She brought home a mosaic, I a massive charcoal drawing. She a painting on canvas or board, I a piece of pottery thrown on the wheel. As siblings often do, we didn't always agree on everything and have had our fair share of bumps in the road, but one thing we've always been able to connect with is making.

Recently, I began to realize that making is something that extends far beyond just our immediate family. My grandmother, who recently passed away, was an amazing quilter. She had many patterns and works published over the years and even had her own fabric store for quite some time. She was always making something and often sold her wares at craft markets much like my sister and I do today. I have a cousin who is painter. An aunt who is an amazing knitter and book maker. A second cousin who is an incredible potter. Another cousin who makes films. An uncle who directs plays and creates costumes. Another cousin who is constantly making whether it be all sorts of amazing food, building his own house, or installing new floors in his second home. And when I stop to think about it all, I wonder if making is in our blood. But genetic or not, I feel proud to be part of the tradition of makers in our family.

Are you a maker? Are many others in your family makers as well, or did you choose to take a different path than those around you?