so. many. throw pillows. and so much design fun. these collections represent a smattering of our two-artists-making-stuff-for-humans product lines, a vast array of tote bags, mugs, prints, laptop sleeves, phone cases, blankets, beach towels, cutting boards, coasters, shower curtains, and yes, throw pillows.
as we rapidly approach the holiday-gift-season, we thought we’d enter the pool of possibilities and just offer up a compilation of some of the merchandise that is available in our names. perhaps it will be just the right thing you need…for you or someone else. either way, it’s a pleasure to look at our five society6.com store sites and see how very many lines we have designed through the time of this melange. the learnings have been vast; the feedback and every single sale deeply appreciated.
happy holidays from two artists who love to do art. xoxo
i love the unicorn on the daily calendar wendy aka ben aka saul gave me, but the thing i really pay attention to are the words of wisdom it offers me day after day. sometimes it makes me laugh aloud; sometimes it makes me really think. later in the day i recall a bit of the message, but i can’t recall how the unicorn was standing or if it was flying or rearing up or ….
i think that’s the way with other similar images…like our CHICKEN MARSALA. CHICKEN is our little made-up boy, a cartoon, who showed up for the first many months of mondays as a part of this melange. CHICKEN always had a message morsel – a CHICKEN NUGGET – and it was that message that seemed to resonate with his audience.
taking some of those words of wisdom or expressions, i designed ‘words-only’ products (as well as products with CHICKEN MARSALA on them.) with the shopping season upon us and everyone seeking something unique as gifts, the next few weeks we’ll revisit some of those products so that you can see what you might have missed.
this is throw pillow week. you can find these by clicking on the box above or by clicking HERE. when you get to the society6 site, you will find these same simple images and lots of others – including images with CHICKEN MARSALA – on coffee mugs, travel mugs, laptop sleeves, phone cases, hoodies, t-shirts, tote bags, blankets, towels, coasters, even shower curtains. it was a blast designing all of these product lines. i hope that we can help you in finding just the right thing for someone special…or maybe even yourself.
happy holidays with love from me, david & chicken marsala.
it was election day and i was passing through the denver airport, walking from one end of the united airlines terminal to the other. i knew that later that night, i would be tuning in to the results of the midterm elections and would, undoubtedly, read a plethora of articles on my news app that would sadden me. the divisiveness is palpable, an uneven heartbeat in our country, a dis-ease that is rampant.
i passed a bank of telephones (the ones that you put coins in to make phone calls) and above each cubicle was a poster. i read each as i walked past. i was much further down the terminal when i turned around to go back. lincoln’s words captured my attention and i wanted to pass-it-on as the poster says. “a house divided…cannot stand.”
it made me wish for what should be simple things: dialogue. grace. equality. kindness. unity. and yes, civility. they are all there. in us.
i had landed in denver, took the little plane for the small airport in the mountains. The Girl picked me up and we did errands in town, because telluride is an hour and a half away and there is no target or starbucks or any chain store there. when we got to the little house she just moved to and shares with three others, i looked for something to cut the stems off sweet flowers so i could place them in a facsimile of a vase. having not unpacked all the way, and knowing she was also not all that familiar with her new place yet, i knew that i should just make do with anything that cuts. i grabbed a large knife off the counter and starting sawing. the only thing wrong with that is that i sawed my left pointer finger as well. ouch! i did everything to make it stop bleeding but it was stubborn and kirsten and i wrapped it in bandaids and paper towels to wander around town. yowza.
i wasn’t going to mention it to d – the cutting-stems-with-a-big-serrated-knife thing and all – but couldn’t resist looking for a little husband-sympathy. so after another hour or so, i texted him. he texted back, “we are twins. my left index finger. i sliced mine hours ago…” what?!?
we have this beautiful print in our home, a simple calligraphy by my big brother….it reads, “when one weeps, the other will taste salt.” hmmm.
i’m thinking this is just a fancy term for procrastination? you know, those moments when you have a list-of-things-to-do and you do something NOT on the list. to be honest, i ALWAYS add the things i ended up doing TO the list so that i can cross them off. there is something i find so very satisfying about crossing things off. even if i haven’t gotten to the crux of what i need to get done.
d says that i work in a circular manner. i suppose he’s right. but i swear it’s a woman-thing. we are spinning many plates at the same time, keeping them all in the air, and, although everything will eventually get done, we move from one thing to the next and then circle back. i know very few gals who – in an OCD kind of way – stay cemented to one task until its completion without punctuating it with others.
when The Girl and The Boy were little i was constantly moving from writing at the piano to reading books aloud to playing with matchbox cars to making business calls and back to the piano….many layers all at once. i remember having a phone conversation with one of the VPs of barnes and noble when they were placing one of my albums on the listening station wall. in the middle of this phone call, you could hear one of my children in toddlerhood – i will not mention which one – in the background, beckoning me from the bathroom, yelling, “i finished! i pooped!” the VP heard it too and he was gracious enough to tell me he would hold on. it’s a mom thing, right? those spinning plates.
we work differently, d and me. we are both productive, but i’m guessing he would oft label me productively avoidant. eh. he just doesn’t see how i accomplish that ever-growing-ever-crossed-off list in my head (or on paper, for that matter.) it’s amazing what i can accomplish when i am “supposed” to be accomplishing something else. i know you know what i mean! #allwillgetdone #whatdoesitallmeananyway?
right at 2:08 in this recording is an ambient sound. it is a sound that my producer and i deliberately decided to leave in the recording, an audible sound of divine, a tiny punctuation in our project from across the barriers of physical being-ness.
we were recording remotely on one of the northwestern university stages, ken (my amazing “it’s fine” producer) having built a small studio off in the green room, separate from the stage space where the piano was. everything was moved or padded so as to avoid interruptions or rattling or vibrations or overtones, anything we didn’t want included in this solo piano album. it was a tedious process and we recorded straight through a twenty-three hour stretch. with me were items – totems of a sort – to keep me company as i recorded this first album. one was a stuffed animal i had given my beloved big brother during his chemo treatments, three short missing-him-years prior.
divine intervention was the last piece up. the last piece of the very first album i was recording, released 23 years ago november 11 on my sisu music productions label. teetering on that balance point, no idea of where i was to go next or what would become of this album, i was emotional and exhausted, determined and vulnerable. i spoke words of prayer and began the next take of this piece.
at 2:08 i heard a sound. it sounded like an old wooden screen door closing, but i didn’t really know what it was. i was sure, however, it would be on the recording since i could hear it on-stage. i kept going anyway, thinking we’d go back and re-record the piece. when i finished playing, tired tears in my eyes, i walked into the green room to find ken standing in astonishment. there was an empty can of pepsi in that little studio, one i had put in there and secured by towels deep onto a shelf. at 2:08, the can somehow moved out of the spot it was nestled in and clattered onto the floor. the sound. even without listening to the cd i can hear this sound in my head every time i play this piece.
we listened back to the raw recording. sure enough, it was there. and so was something else. a feeling that somehow, some way, the divine interrupted. intervened with a small nod. perhaps it was my big brother, in jest, stopping by in the middle of the last take of the very last piece of my very first album, to make a little noise. perhaps it was something else. either way, we knew. and we left it in.
i still have the can.
15. divine intervention (3:16): the feeling i have about this whole project. there really isn’t any such thing as chance. those who are just on the other side sometimes help us to sort and place the clues of our life’s story. (words from released from the heart jacket)
“…you must wait patiently, knowing that you’re waiting and knowing what you’re waiting for…” (carlos castaneda)
a balance point. the morsel of the painting WAITING AND KNOWING doesn’t include the obvious visual balance point between waiting and knowing and not. instead it draws you into the words “wait patiently”, “know”, “promise”, ” then a time will come”.
but we all know the point. the trust. the blind faith. with roots we courageously send deeply into the earth of our lives we teeter on the edge of patience and impatience, belief and unbelief, knowing and not knowing, fulfilling and not fulfilling, living and not living.
WAITING AND KNOWING – the painting – illustrates that amazing center of gravity available to us as human beings, our root a fulcrum from which we pivot in our lives, live our lives, celebrate our lives.
at 93 these words were texted by my sweet momma on her iphone, about a week before she died three years ago. she was amazing. and damn strong. “whoa!” i think, re-reading this text, “you go, momma!”
“…more than i say…more than i speak…more than you realize…” like every mom she walked the thin line between not saying enough and saying too much. The Girl and The Boy are practiced at rolling their eyes at me and, i guess, i must have done the same to my momma. so there’s that moment you dig in and, ignoring every quivering fibre in your body, you do not say anything. you notice, you think, you know. but you remain quiet. for you also know that the lives you have gifted into this world are not yours to live; they are only yours to love, to hold closest to your heart, to support in every way you can, to lift up when they stumble or fall.
“don’t. underestimate me.” so true, momma didn’t want to be under-estimated. her spirit in the world accomplished bigger things than most professions can tout. her kindness was rippling, her curiosity abounding, and her fortitude…that sisu. you don’t want to be the retail/corporate/organization recipient of the “write-a-lettuh” vindication; momma was going to win. she “wasn’t born in ny for nothin” as i say. the day after the extra surgery she had just one day after her double-mastectomy a few months before this text, she sat on the edge of her hospital bed and called us “idiots” for not getting back on the road home. she was going to be “just fine” and she was more worried about us on the road than herself. that’s a mom for you. that’s my sweet momma.
beaky dug in. she was engaged and big in the world. and her sisu made her powerful. she was wise even in silence. she knew, even if i didn’t tell her. like moms everywhere, she was tuned in, in ways that made her ever-present. i always counted on that. i still do. she is on the edges of this earth, where the wind carries her to me.
i can only hope that one day my own children realize that – no matter what – i am right there. i know more than i say. i think more than i speak. i notice more than they realize. and never, ever, underestimate me. because as their momma, i will go to the ends of the earth for them. just like my mom.
reverse threading 