my own private studio

I've mentioned before that my studio leaves something to be desired. "Studio" is a misnomer. I actually do most of my artwork at my employers' office, because I have a big drawing table, a mayline (a ruler that slides up and down the table so I can draw straight lines), a big flatbed scanner, two computer monitors, and a sweet printer. I usually go into the office on the weekends, crank up my jams, and hang out by myself. It's not so bad. Once in a while a co-worker comes in, we exchange words and they go on their merry way.

However, I've been burning the midnight oil on a few awesome side projects and got burnt out being at the office 8 days a week. After no respite from the daily grind (bus trips, downtown antics, etc) I decided there needs to be a third place: not home, not the office, but a studio. Just like I had in college. I went to my one-stop shop, Craigslist, to scope out my options. My requirements are that it's cheap and close. Since my Good Press business stuff is just a side gig, I can't justify paying more a studio than what I make on artwork.

I found a listing that seemed to fit my criteria: $150/month including utilities, with a month-to-month lease, and just a few stops away on the bus. Plus they have free parking and it's in a legit neighborhood. I checked out the space and it is no bigger than a gumdrop. But it has a window and some (faux) wood floors and tall ceilings. The guy who operates the building (billed as a venue to "help get your business off your kitchen table") showed me all the security features. It felt like a place I could set up shop. And if it doesn't pay for itself, I could easily fold up shop.

While it's kind of frustrating to pay rent for a studio on top rent for an apartment, I think it's the right thing to do at this point. It just seems kinda shady to use my employer's internet and electricity and ink to run Good Press. In an ideal world, we'd own a home that was big enough for my very own studio. Until that time, the rented studio is pretty enticing.

And I have no photos of the space, so enjoy these wintry images I foraged on the internet.

uncommon goods

I created this invite for my friend Annette, an event planner whom I met through the grapevine when planning our wedding last summer. She asked me to create a web-friendly invitation for a Seattle-area wedding vendor event....and she asked me to be a featured wedding invitation vendor. The event is basically the anti-wedding show. The invite concept was completely open, and I got inspired by some well-designed gin bottle labels. Gotta love that Hendrick's.

Annette and her compatriots really dig the invite, and asked if we could print it in addition to emailing. I'm blushing!

I have been clocking some serious hours in my studio (which leaves something to be desired, more on the shortcomings later). Today I potentially overcame a major mental road block on Ashley and Jeff's wedding invite. I'll be back tomorrow with fresh eyes and a clear head to clean it up. My Saturday and sanity were saved by Pandora and a stupidly good tofu sandwich from Dahlia Bakery. I didn't know tofu could taste sinful.

flights of fancy

Last night Dave and I ate dinner in a wine tower. A wine tower? you say. Let me explain.
We were trying to meet up with my friend Crysta and her guy Ric for dinner, who are in town from London. Anyway, communication was misfiring on all cylinders so Dave and I just ended up going out to dinner alone. We went to our default fancy downtown restaurant, Purple Wine Bar, primarily because it was close to the lounge where Crysta would later be, and more importanttly because we had a gift certificate burning a hole in our pockets.

Seattle has been mega chilly and rainy, two major deterents for Saturday night outings. In our optimism, we figured we could waltz in and sit down, no reservation needed. Plus we got there at a nerdily early dinner hour- before 7. I totally forgot that theater-goers flock to Purple because it is smack dab in Seattle's (cute) theater district. (I should know better- that's where Cookie takes me and Becky before shows.) Anyway, the hostess informs us that it's going to be an hour wait, but we could hover around the cramped bar area in the meantime.

The place was hoppin', service was middling...but then...Dave caught the attention of our friend Chris, who is Purple's self proclaimed "wine guy". He was like "So you guys looking for a place to sit?" and he led us up this spiral staircase that circles about 12 shelves of wine, into his office. The fact that his desk/table was covered with boxes, opened bottles, and paperwork was no matter. He just shoved it aside and set two places.

Purple is the only place in Seattle where I'm treated like a VIP. Often times when Chris is working, we don't even look at menus, he just orders up the best shit. Which is great if you're looking for wine, because their list is daunting. Last night we did order, but it was more like a trivia game.
Chris: "What would you like tonight?"
Me: "Lamb burger?"
him: funny look
Me: "Chopped salad? ....um, grilled halibut?"
Chris: "Excellent choice! Grilled halibut it is."

The wine tower is where they keep their supply, so staff were coming in all night, probably wondering who the hell we are, and pleasantly asking us to scoot over so they could get some old vintage down. Needless to say, we ate and drank like Kings (and Queens) up in our little tower. That Chris, he's a real gem.

After stuffing ourselves, we braved the pouring rain and found Crysta and Ric the Zig Zag Lounge, so called because you have to zig and zag through all these random staircases to get there. Good times all around.

between neverland and thirtysomething

I did some sketches on the flight to Denver (while looking out the window and humming to myself This land is your land, this land is my land!). The sketches were originally for an event invitation that I'm working on. Although I don't think we'll use them, I had fun imagining grown-up fairy tale characters. I'm sure it's been done before but I don't care. For some reason, I couldn't help but make them hipsters. Maybe I've been perusing this site too much...

This ain't no costume in a bag

Happy Halloween from Slaughterberry Shortcake the roller derby girl, and Glenn, the Phinney Ridge Zoo Tunes VIP!

Cheers to 1980

Last week I celebrated my 29th birthday, and it went well, because I basically ate my way through the day. It all started with a mini coconut cream pie at 8am, washed down with coffee and half a cranberry scone. My office always provides birthday treats of our choosing and I requested Dahlia Bakery (cute shop that makes stupid good desserts, soups, and sandwiches). For lunch I went to my favorite downtown Seattle watering hole, the Virginia Inn. Although my ideal birthday included a Crossfit workout, you know that was the first item to get crossed off my schedule. Instead, I bought some flowers at Pike Place Market and then went home to eat some Hawaiian pizza and drink red wine with friends. And I shouldn't discount the appetizer that Dave set out, a big ol' bowl of Kit-Kat.

Dave got me a sweet Steve Largent throwback jersey for my birthday. The best thing about it? He was number 80. Just like the best year to be born!

Oktoberfest: beer, brats, and bar-b-q

This month has been chock full of trips and parties and deadlines. I'll start my October re-cap series with a little ditty about a town called Leavenworth.

To get a sence for Leavenworth, envision the German village portion of Epcot Center (sturdy ladies holding two beer steins, smiley guys in Lederhosen, squat brown and white buildings, flowery storefront signs). Now drop that into the middle of the Cascade Mountains, and watch for the tourism dollars to roll in. Who knew there was such a market for faux-Bavaria in central Washington? Anyway, the company I work for gave us a gift certificate to Leavenworth's Sleeping Lady Inn for our wedding (our friends Chris and Julie also got one). Not coincidentally, we decided to cash them in during the town's Oktoberfest, one of the biggest in the State.

Although Oktoberfest itself was nothing to write home about, some unexpected details made the trip. Dave navigated through treacherous traffic then gnarly mountain roads for 2.5 hours in the pouring rain. The biggest big rigs whooshed by us, rattling our trusty Subaru. Road beers, music, and a lively game of "Top 3" made the trip more fun (Dave, are you with me??). We miraculously arrived in one piece and headed out for some shnitzel (like little doughy turds).

The next morning, Dave and Chris went into town to watch a football game, while Julie and I took a two hour walk through the hills. We stumbled upon a public salmon hatchery, where they nurture baby salmon in incubators. They look like eyeballs with tails. It was way cool.

Oktoberfest was wet. Great big halls were filled with drunks, townfolk, frat kids, ladies in sexy dirndles, and Germans looking to save money on airfare. We drank beer indoors, chatted with our table-mates, and watched German showgirls dance, play bells, sing, and pique the interest of every guy in the tent. Again, picture Epcot.

We then moved the party down the street to soak up the beer with some respectable German food, including goulash, brats, and sauerkraut. I can now check off one place in the Top 1,000 Places To See Before You Die book.

Traveling home on Sunday, we stopped by a converted roadside school bus that served bar-b-q. Chris is a born-and-bred Texan food lover, and had heard about this bus in his quest for authentic bar-b-q. None of us were hungry but we had to stop. After ordering, Julie and I dipped into the Reptile Museum next door to use their bathroom. Our eyes lit up like little children at the freakishly large and creepy critters (a two headed turtled- saw it with my own eyes!, an Anaconda that would eat us for a snack, and an albino aligator). After our reptilian peep show, we ran back to the bar-b-q bus to tell Dave and Chris about the wonders of the museum and to pick up our junior-sized pulled pork sandwiches. The food was delicious! Chris and Julie, the self-proclaiming food snobs, were raving about the just-sweet-enough barbeque. Did I mention we ate our sandwiches in the converted school bus, which had alphabetic magnets all over the ceiling? We did.

not think so far away

I will try to not fret about the future. I will live by this Robert Frost poem instead:

Oh, give us pleasure in the flowers today;
And give us not to think so far away
As the uncertain harvest; keep us here
All simply in the springing of the year.

And on the fifth day God made....burritos!

Tonight I went to a conference on sustainable cities at University of Washington. It was cool to be on a real campus. MassArt is comprised of two buildings (one is a quasi-skyscraper), and some scattered dorms around the city of Boston. I never got to roam the hallowed halls or lounge in the Quad. Not that I roamed or lounged tonight, but still...

The lecture was given by a pretty young Chicagoan with some forward-thinking, if not half-baked, ideas about how to manage the impending water shortage. When I learn more about modern ecological crises, I always have to balance a feeling of dread and hope. On one hand, that shit is scary. I don't see enough people shifting their behaviors to proactively manage the issues we face today. Besides that, some populations are still making babies like they're rabbits, further taxing the world's resources. Federal policy seems stuck in the stone ages. The fact that Seattle administration wants to build a huge ass tunnel along the waterfront to move more cars through makes my heart sink....and Seattle is a pretty progressive place.

Then I feel hopeful, because at least people are talking about these problems that we are now responsible for. I think of the really smart people in the world, and people in my profession, the sciences, education, and technology, who are working towards finding solutions. And I don't mean the keynote speaker's ideas were half-baked in a bad way. His visions for a Chicago that has renewable irrigation canals to serve the people and feed Lake Michigan are inspiring. His models look like a lush metropolis filled with a grid of waterways ("blue belts"), greenery, food-bearing gardens, and no cars. Eden? It seems like it'll take a while before the masses place value on that ideal. Maybe when water becomes a commodity like oil.


Sometimes I think that we are on the brink of an Environmental Revolution, much like the Industrial Revolution. All of the sudden, boom, the whole world is working towards a common goal and ideas are flowing and so is the money. Other times I think we are not doing nearly enough.

Dave picked me up from the lecture. We stopped at Rancho Bravo on our way home, a parked taco truck that makes some damn fine food. The impending water shortage may be scary but at least there are enough burritos to go around.

Ignatius lives!

I'm all jazzed to see a play tomorrow, Confederacy of Dunces. I read this book my first summer in NYC and devoured it much like Ignatius J. Reilly devours hot dogs (that's what a girl can do when she don't got a job!). I can barely even tell you what it's about, except for an overgrown loser who tries to support his elderly mother by finding myriad loser-ish jobs. It's been getting rave reviews. I'm pysched to check it out with my friend Joseph.


I stopped by one of my favorite used book stores to get a copy for our library. Dave's never read it, but that will soon change. Most of my books are still at Ashley and Jeff's apartment in Brooklyn because I couldn't justify shipping them to Seattle. Even though I LOVE to read, I often cannot bring myself to buy books. I always think about how they'll be dead weight next time we move. So I put a lot of mileage on my library card. But once in a while I think 'Man I really wish I owned that book'. This week I also bought 'The Little Friend', which no one seems to love but me! (Oh well, more used ones to buy on the cheap). Dave on the other hand is already dreaming up his library-cave for our next home. I think it'll have dark wood walls and globes and maybe ventilation for smoking pipes.

p.s. I highly recommend Tana French's Into the Woods and The Likeness. Spooky and riveting. I wished my commute was longer so I could keep reading.

books and bottle openers

On Tuesday, two of my colleagues and I conducted a workshop at a nearby Navy base. This base is on it's own island and it is a mecca for wildlife. No development, tons of evergreens and miles of pristine shoreline. Eight bald eagles nests! Deer running wild! Seals frolicking! It's probably what the Olympic Peninsula looked like 50 years ago. Anyway, long story short it was a beautiful day and we all know those are numbered. None of us felt like going back to the office after we ate lunch and Dutch apple pie with our clients at a greasy spoon. So we picked up a sixer and hung out on the island next to our lovely Navy base. We managed to make our way back to the evening ferry, where I read my book. Quite the Navy day. I filed the hours as 'reconnaisance'.

have you seen the remote?

I have long been proud to say "I'm not really into TV". I'm sure it's obnoxious, as most people are into TV, if not supremely into it. Somehow my disinterest in TV was a badge of honor. It's the direct result of some seriously strict TV privileges as a kid. (I remember my Dad let me and my sis watch Wonder Years while my mom was at Central Connecticut, getting her Masters degree at night. She came home, and guns were blazing because we were in front of the boob tube on a school night. That was the end of my knowledge of Kevin Arnold's antics).

Fast forward about 18 years (which you can actually do on TVs now!) This summer we bought a flat screen after the old hunka mysterious broke. Dave gave me a few remote control tutorials, and I now have total management over some gooood TV watchin'. I'm down with our On Demand service. It's totally efficient. Current obsessions include Top Chef (go Jennifer!), Project Runway (go Carol Hannah!), and Mad Men (go Joanie!). Oh yes, and the MTV opus, Sixteen and Pregnant.

I think Dave is startin to sweat now that he's got competition for the idiot box. When his softball team decided not to play this season I was actually bummed because it meant I did not have remote control autonomy Friday nights. What am I becoming?

keeping the wheels on

Summer is slowly slipping away, which opens new opportunities (doing more artwork, cooking big meals that require a stove) and closes the door on other delights (the sun, long days, aggressive use of our beloved grill). Today it's so beautiful outside and I want to do something but don't know what. Maybe I'll ride the ol' bike.


I've been riding lately after a month-long haitus. Dave outfitted my bike with a pannier (modern day saddle bag) and a headlight, plus I got a super cute helmet. Nothing gets a girl in gear like... new gear. I also had my final Crossfit personal training sesh today. My trainer pumped up my ego by asking if I was a rock climber or gymnast, because I have a strong upper body and I "move well". But then he made me do wall-ball jumps, and said "A-ha! I found something you aren't good at!". At which point I spit on the ground, stormed out in a rage and pedaled home. Or something like that.

Last week my whole family was gathered at the cabin in CT for Labor Day festivities. I totally felt left out and wanted to be there to meet my cousin's new baby (the first of our generation). When I talked to my sis this week, I lamented the fact that while I can make it to Christmas and weddings on the East Coast, I miss all the smaller and impromptu gatherings. She reminded me to enjoy the friends and family I have here, because once we're gone, we'll be missing THEM. So I'm focusing on enjoying my Northwest peeps! My sister, she's so smart.

40 hours a week plus bennies

Not sure if you've heard but there's a recession going on? Uh yeah, I guess it's pretty substantial. Sounds like we hit bottom and are swimming back up to the surface with a weight around our collective ankles. Fortunately, I work for a small consulting firm- 15 people, half of whom are partners- and they haven't had to lay off anyone. However, our workload is definitely light and I have clocked some serious hours dicking around with design stuff. Tasks include but are not limited to updating our company's website, developing promotional material, and volunteering for the Washington Chapter of the American Planning Association. Turns out if you help lay out the organization's monthly newsletter, you are automatically inducted into the Communications Committee. Excuse me while I add that to my resume...

It's been really fun, because my bosses basically say, "Can you make us an ad?" or "Can you make some posters for an interview?". The only real limitations are the page size, otherwise I have free reign (well at least 'till I turn it in for their review, at which point they edit). Unfortunately there's no client to bill, so I wonder how long my whimsical design days will last...Anyway, I think it's cool that there is a place for a designer, for creativity, in the urban planning world, and that I sort of found that out by accident.

I always wonder if I want to go to Planning Grad School. I can argue both ways- on one hand, I'd pay to get a degree to do EXACTLY what I do now. On the other hand, I could fill in some professional and academic blanks and generally be more marketable. A friend gave me great advice: Don't enroll in a grad program unless you are absolutely convinced you should be there. Otherwise you'll be writing term papers at 2am questioning what the hell you're doing.

Obviously, my love affair is with design. Every month I tear into my HOW magazine, but do I devour my PLANNING mag with the same gusto? No way. I often contemplate working 4 days at my real job and doing my artwork on the 5th day. My bosses are flexible, schedule-wise, and our home office is really coming together (we got shelves! glorious shelves!). For some reason the two sides of my coin are advanced degree in Planning or ramp up the art business on the side. At the moment, I veer towards my own art projects. I even opened a "business" bank account and am paying someone to re-do my portfolio website. Maybe the dream isn't such a reach...?

In other news, here's my new favorite neighborhood bar, the Dray. It's where I hang when I'm not working.

foot loose and fancy free

Dave's side of the room is getting out of control. The laundry and sports equipment seem like a fungus that just keeps growing. And I don't mean to toot my own horn but...I think some of my best comedic material takes shape as I'm waking up. The other morning, Dave was complaining about having no socks, and I said "Look on Clothes Mountain". Then I couldn't help but sing "She'll be comin 'round Clothes Mountain when she comes, yee-HAW! She'll be coming round Clothes Mountain..." Then Dave chimed in with "She'll be ridin six white horses...". Oh man, married life is the BEST.

This past week, my friend and I went for a beer after work. A woman at his Pea Patch told him the secret to happy marriage, gleaned from the best wedding toasts she'd heard. Well, two tips: Check in with each other five minutes every day, no matter what. 5 minutes of face time, turn off your t.v. (and your kids if you have 'em).
Her other tip is plan regular mystery dates. I like those ideas, and decided to put the mystery date in motion last night.

I took Dave to this diner clicked up a notch in Columbia City, on the south end of town. We venture to those parts about twice a year, and it's amazing, because it felt like we were in a completely different city. South Seattle is similar to what Green Point, Brooklyn was 10 years ago. Still marginally affordable, a couple yoga studios and good coffee shops mixed into some seedy spots, and on the verge of blowing up. Columbia City is really cute and just got outfitted with Seattle's new Light Rail. Goodbye affordable prices and diversity!


My initial plans for mystery date night included two tickets to Inglourious Basterds (I love me some Tarantino and Brad Pitt), but after a delicious dinner and one way-too-big brownie sundae, were fading into a food coma and fast. We rolled across the street to a little bar where Dave's friend Dalilah met up with us and told some really funny stories with lots of hand gestures.

The mystery date was a success and I'm looking forward to making it a regular part of our good times.

pump you up

Apparently it is impossible for me to not make plans. I was happily enjoying my down time, then by some improbable slip, I asked some friends to go lawn bowling, made an appointment with a trainer at Crossfit, and agreed to trek down to Tacoma to visit Dave's uncle. Before I knew it, my date book was full.

Then felt constricted. I bailed on lawn bowling, and turns out Dave never called his uncle to arrange plans. But I am still going to Crossfit today. I've been interested in their military-like exercises that focus on whole body coordination and strength (think climbing ropes for time and deadlifting your body weight). I don't know if I'll pursue it, since I already pay for and enjoy my gym, but I think four years of curiousity warrants a visit to the ol' body shop. I will say I am unabashedly proud of my muscles in this photo from our honeymoon. Huzzah!


Also, I'm thinking about taking a letterpress class at an art school conveniently located between work and home. I've been meaning to check out letterpress for a long time. It is all the rage these days in crafty wedding-invitation circles, but the technique has been around since the mid 15th-century. Here's a letterpress card from Ilee Papergoods, one of my faves, out of Seattle.


I'm definitely digging the post-wedding brain space and time...lots more room to dream about my next projects. We'll see which ones I pursue...

sitting in the time-out chair

For Dave's birthday I drew a cartoon of "Dave's Summer Day". I sort of envy his default mode: relaxation. My default mode? Hyperactivity. He really does enjoy his summers off, and seems to effortlessly fill his days without a tinge of boredom. I asked him what he'd draw for "Shawna's Day Off" and he, accurately outlined it: Wake up at 7, go for a run, come home and make faces at Dave for still being in bed, eat nuts and berries for breakfast, do a sixteen errands. True. I'm so lame!!

So this morning, I uncharacteristically stayed in my PJs, drank coffee in the barcalounger, and watched Saved by the Bell. Just like Saturday mornings of my youth! (minus the coffee). It was an inconvenience when I had to get ready for an 11 am hair appointment. I think I did a good job of relaxing this morning.

I also flipped through our many wedding pics, which we received from our lovely photographer Adam Smith this week. We love them! Check out the web gallery here.

Here's my mom helping me put on the Leonard family cameo. I love this necklace. Each bride wears it for the wedding day, then passes it on to the next bride. It was the "something borrowed" part of my outfit.

Here's where we relaxed a little during the "staged photo" portion of the evening. This was before the ceremony, so anxiety was running high.

And nothing takes the edge of that anxiety like a little champagne! We had great summery weather and great light for the photos.

Time to knock 'em dead. I'm whispering to my dad to hide from the audience, because they could sneak a peek over the banister.

Dave's parents, Art and Cookie, enjoying the ceremony.


Ah, I could relax and look at these photos for a while...

The Newlywed Game

Obviously I should write about the wedding, which I will. But that requires acquiring pictures and digging deep into my memory from 9 days ago. It's approximately 99 degrees (too hot to think hard) so I'll write about what's at the tip of my mind- the honeymoon!

We went to Zihuatanejo, Mexico. The easiest way to describe it- it's the fishing village where Andy Dufraine and whatshisname go to at the end of Shawshank Redemption. To live the good life while drinking beers in the sun.

Some thoughts on Mexico:

1. It is hot. Damn hot. Wearing anything more than a bathing suit or flowing skirt is oppressive. If you go, make sure most of your time is spend poolside.

2. Therefore, I don't know how people work or are productive down there.

3. Zihua is the anti-Cancun. Most visitors are Mexican families just enjoying the beach. People were having the time of their lives, whole families were in the ocean from 7am till 10pm.

4. Mexicans wear entire outfits to swim. I don't know if they forget their bathing suits, or don't own 'em, or just don't care. Personally, wearing a soaking wet button-down and khaki shorts would drive me nuts, but they don't seem to mind. I even saw a guy wearing a baseball cap in addition to his outfit.

5. We saw some really cool birds, and we are not exactly bird fans. From the pool, we watched pelicans hunting; they'd dive-bomb the water, stay under a few seconds, and grab fish. Also, these little birds continually dipped in our pool. Like in Top Gun when the plane touches down on the aircraft carrier then takes off. Not sure if they were cleaning themselves or doing drills or just playing. But it was fun to watch. You can see a bird in this photo:

6. I love a margarita.

7. I love me some guacamole. I never get sick of it.

8. If you go to Zihuatanejo, stay at la Casa que Canta. We couldn't stay there the whole time, cause we couldn't afford it, but it was worth every penny. Every morning I'd call room service and order breakfast: "Hola! Soy Senora Kitzman. Can we have some coffee and huevos rancheros?". Our hostess, Sugey, would set up breakfast on our patio and say "En-yoy it".

9. Dave had a rough time with Mexican food. As he put it "There's a war in my stomach between Mexico and America...and Mexico is winning". The hotel staff went out and bought him Gatorade and Pepto.


10. Mexicans do not prioritize fitness. Instead of water, most people carry around 2 liter bottles of Squirt. I tried using the gym at our second hotel and the "elliptical machine" basically fell apart when I stepped on. Apparently that's not a big problem.

11. The Mexican government oversees waste management and they don't recycle anything. It's really sad, because the only water you can drink there is bottled. So, yeah I threw out a ridiculous amount of bottles. It's like the dark ages.

12. I almost bonked a crocadilla on the head when my golf ball shot into the pond. That was the highlight of my golf game. I suck, even in Latin America.


13. In conclusion, stay at La Casa que Canta, drink lots of margaritas, don't drink the water, rest to temper the hot, hot sun. En-yoy it.