Sunday, January 30, 2011
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
What's In A Card?
A bright yellow box sits on my top closet shelf. Inside it's full of cards that people have sent me over the years and I take it out on rare occasions to remind myself of the past. I imagine myself in my eighties pouring over it's contents smiling, gently stroking a few, shedding some tears, feeling nostalgic remembering very important times and people who have come, gone, and stayed in my life. I'm sure it has something to do with having a moon in Pices.
Some of the cards are from important occasions, like graduations, milestone birthdays, some are from significant times such as hospitalizations, a life threatening illness, and the death of my mother. Some are from people I didn't have much contact with, but impacted my life in a big way. Some are from old lovers. The cards are all neatly organized, bundled in rubber bands that I replace every so many years. All these cards are very special to me, otherwise I wouldn't have schlepped them around for fifty-eight years.
Even though I love them all, I do have some favorites, most of those happen to be handmade. One is a card my brother made for me when I was seven and in the hospital. I love how he signed it "love from your brother, Arren Conrad" (I might not know who he was otherwise). It even has a little window cut out with old glitter still hanging on, inspite of all the times I've shuffled through the box. There's one my best friend made for me when we transitioned to high school, with a coupon and award for being such a good friend (I don't even know where she lives today). Another holiday card made with tinfoil, addressed to 'my best buddy' from a college friend who passed away far too young. Beautifully brightly colored cards from some of my former students, that make me smile with all the little details that later you realize the kids paid attention to. One of my students made me a birthday card with Minnie Mouse (he knew I was a big Disney fan), a picture of me with dangly earrings (which I often wore), my pink breast cancer awareness pin on my lapel, and a picture of him hanging out of a car window signing 'I love you' (he was deaf) and I can see his mom sitting in the front seat driving him away.
Ahh yes, a card can say and tell us many things, especially one that is from the heart.
Some of the cards are from important occasions, like graduations, milestone birthdays, some are from significant times such as hospitalizations, a life threatening illness, and the death of my mother. Some are from people I didn't have much contact with, but impacted my life in a big way. Some are from old lovers. The cards are all neatly organized, bundled in rubber bands that I replace every so many years. All these cards are very special to me, otherwise I wouldn't have schlepped them around for fifty-eight years.
Even though I love them all, I do have some favorites, most of those happen to be handmade. One is a card my brother made for me when I was seven and in the hospital. I love how he signed it "love from your brother, Arren Conrad" (I might not know who he was otherwise). It even has a little window cut out with old glitter still hanging on, inspite of all the times I've shuffled through the box. There's one my best friend made for me when we transitioned to high school, with a coupon and award for being such a good friend (I don't even know where she lives today). Another holiday card made with tinfoil, addressed to 'my best buddy' from a college friend who passed away far too young. Beautifully brightly colored cards from some of my former students, that make me smile with all the little details that later you realize the kids paid attention to. One of my students made me a birthday card with Minnie Mouse (he knew I was a big Disney fan), a picture of me with dangly earrings (which I often wore), my pink breast cancer awareness pin on my lapel, and a picture of him hanging out of a car window signing 'I love you' (he was deaf) and I can see his mom sitting in the front seat driving him away.
Ahh yes, a card can say and tell us many things, especially one that is from the heart.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Choosing a Name
When I first began my cardmaking business two years ago, I wanted to name it something that would reflect how it all began. Initially I wanted to call it Heartsongs after Mattie Stepanek, (a divine soul no longer with us), but since the name was taken, I went with Cards From The Heart. It sounded a little 'cutsey', and I am definitely not a cutsey kind of person, but I settled on it nonetheless.
I have always had this artsy side to me, which no doubt was inherited from my mother (who else would make earrings out of her gall stones?). I tried several mediums, photography, drawing, watercolor painting, but nothing really seemed to capture me like cardmaking.
I bought my first rubber stamp in 1990 at a wonderful store which no longer exits in Portland, OR called First Impressions. I quickly caught the stamping bug and started sending cards to friends. Over the years several of them suggested I try doing this as a business, but it all sounded like too much work.
In 1995 I was diagnosed with Stage II breast cancer and my whole world turned upside down.
The first year I was paralyzed with thoughts of my demise, wondering if there would ever be a day I didn't wake up without my first thought being cancer. Well, I'm happy to say I'm sitting here thirteen and a half years later writing my first official blog.
There's nothing like a life altering event to give one a good kick in the seat of the pants! So, I decided if not now, when and began Cards From The Heart, handcrafting greeting cards for all occasions. Some of the very first cards I made under this name were sent to three very remarkable people, all of whom share the responsibility for my being here; my oncologist, surgeon, and radiation oncologist (who actually briefly was even a former employer of mine). So I dedicate this first blog to Dr. Walter Urba, Dr. William Wood, and Dr. John Molendyk (deceased), all of Portland, OR and to all those who have just been told that they too have breast cancer.
I have always had this artsy side to me, which no doubt was inherited from my mother (who else would make earrings out of her gall stones?). I tried several mediums, photography, drawing, watercolor painting, but nothing really seemed to capture me like cardmaking.
I bought my first rubber stamp in 1990 at a wonderful store which no longer exits in Portland, OR called First Impressions. I quickly caught the stamping bug and started sending cards to friends. Over the years several of them suggested I try doing this as a business, but it all sounded like too much work.
In 1995 I was diagnosed with Stage II breast cancer and my whole world turned upside down.
The first year I was paralyzed with thoughts of my demise, wondering if there would ever be a day I didn't wake up without my first thought being cancer. Well, I'm happy to say I'm sitting here thirteen and a half years later writing my first official blog.
There's nothing like a life altering event to give one a good kick in the seat of the pants! So, I decided if not now, when and began Cards From The Heart, handcrafting greeting cards for all occasions. Some of the very first cards I made under this name were sent to three very remarkable people, all of whom share the responsibility for my being here; my oncologist, surgeon, and radiation oncologist (who actually briefly was even a former employer of mine). So I dedicate this first blog to Dr. Walter Urba, Dr. William Wood, and Dr. John Molendyk (deceased), all of Portland, OR and to all those who have just been told that they too have breast cancer.
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