Anything worthwhile takes a long time. I think about this in terms of quality and workmanship and craft. While cleaning, I found some old card designs from 2017. At the time I was proud of them. But now having made hundreds of handmade designs, I see how at the time I was still searching and learning and discovering my style.

I took those original ideas and iterated on them. I upgraded simple chalk leaf designs into watercolored stencils. I’ve found a better flow with hand-lettering. The imperfect quality of the letters gives them a unique feeling. Something personal. Like a friend wrote to you and licked the envelope and dropped it into the mail.

Creating so many handmade cards is a labor-intensive process. Physical labor. Emotional labor. I first lay down the watercolor base, let it dry, and then hand-letter. I write the text-heavy cards out in the evening because I’ve found my hand is steadier than in the morning.

There were so many cards where something went awry during the final process of writing the text. My hand smeared the letters. Or the lines weren’t symmetrical, or I missed a word. At the end of the day, even though they started out as having so much potential, those cards were rendered useless. They ended up in the recycle bin. Which made those final cards, the ones that made it from start to finish, even more priceless. A true labor of love.

Just like life, we can feel a false sense of security when we lay down our so-called foundations. When we attend the ‘right’ college or get the ‘right’ job or marry the ‘right’ partner or reach the ‘right’ level of financial security. Only to have everything become irrelevant in the end with a quick smear of distrust, deceit, or uneven emotional and energetic reciprocity.

So when the final cards are sealed in their envelopes, I feel a deep sense of connection to my art because I know all the work that went into creating each one. And my hope is that you or the recipient will feel that love when opening a card from me. Thank you for supporting my work through the years.

Cheers to continuing to practice. And realizing that art, like all of us, are still in progress.