My parenting philosophy is summed up in this question: How do I raise my daughter to be an independent, confident member of society, who is fulfilled by a sense of accomplishment through good work and overcoming challenges?
The reality of continuing Starshaped after having a child hit pretty hard when Josephine was born. Birth and the subsequent year was the most physically and emotionally destructive of my life. Physical limitations resulting from a poor birthing experience meant hardship for the studio, borrowing money from our personal finances and very little printing. Emotional distress led to insecurity about the type of work I could produce and the larger existential questions about WHY I would do it at all.
In the midst of this I received the gift of Sarah, the first person to work in the studio on a regular basis besides myself and who made herself indispensable immediately by not only working so hard but by listening. She brought in Marnie and for a moment in time we were an unstoppable force of nature. These ladies stuck around a few years, making my transition back to printing bearable.
Mr. Starshaped and I have almost always had opposite work schedules, which proved to be ideal for the first few years of Jo's life. I could work during the day until 4 and he left for work right after. Obviously this created strains on our own relationship so we scheduled many 'ARE we in this together?' meetings. We decided we were.
At two and a half Jo started school at Chicago Montessori which we quickly discovered to be completely in line with our thoughts on child rearing; she thrives there still today. I credit the layout and materials in her classrooms with aiding in her transition to being at Starshaped more often. She has developed a deep respect for beautiful, useful materials and takes pride in the work she does there.
When Jo was little, I had to strategically plan meetings and vendor phone calls around when she was napping, as hearing a baby immediately diminished my stature to many. 'Another mom with a cute little side business' was something I often heard; soul crushing, given that Starshaped existed for 7 years before she born. It was very hard to hear Mr. Starshaped conduct production meetings via phone and get asked about spending time with his daughter. 'That's so great' was what he heard. The double standard of parents committing time to their children is still very strong, and the number of articles on 'cool dads' is something I will save for a personal rant.
This is largely why I hid family life from business as much as possible. Why I missed opportunities in the print world. Why I didn't attend many letterpress events and conferences. My assumption was that adults would not be interested in having a child around. While we occasionally got out to galleries, Jo's first big show was one the Hamilton Wood Type Museum staged for me in 2012. I was excessively flattered that Jim Moran called and asked me to do this as I felt like I had been far off the radar since becoming a mother. This also led to my near-confidence in registering for the Wayzgoose that same year. As the tiniest person there Jo held her own, signing prints she helped to design, while we occasionally escaped to more kid-friendly locales (ask me about children's museums in Wisconsin).
Jo started coming to the studio more out of necessity, not choice. So we built a small area to house materials for her to work with while there. This has morphed through the years to accommodate her mental growth and rarely looks like this; I cleaned it up for this feature over at Apartment Therapy. Usually it is a mess of what some might call creative expression and what I call a heartbreaking lack of order. Not pictured are the times I need either silence or a break from art directing tiny projects in which Jo enjoys a few movies on the computer. I struggle to not beat myself up about this.
In 2011 we purchased a Madsen cargo bike. I don't have any agenda for traveling this way; it was simply the easiest way to get around with a child while needing to carry things. We have used it nearly every day since, from getting to school to grocery shopping. I have endured countless comments from drivers about what a terrible mother I am for doing this. It stings, but I try to remember people are afraid of what's not quickly recognizable while keeping my senses alert on the road. Also, Mr. Starshaped does not have this happen to him.
A year later we converted the bike into the Press Bike because I sought a fun activity to do with children that would appeal to Jo. At first we used a tiny Sigwalt press but this proved to be unwieldy while producing minuscule prints. With a little suggestion from Paul we made our own simple galley press and now have two. They utilize a rolling pin for impression and are a huge hit with kids and adults.
I'd like to say that Jo is 100% on board with this. She is not. At Printer's Ball in 2014 she was hot, pitched a fit and ran off to seek others to talk to. I told her we would split our payment 3 ways (studio, me, Jo) if she helped out. This is our arrangement for all Press Bike events that pay us to attend. I did not pay her for this event in an effort to make a point, which made her cry and me feel awful, on top of it being unbearably hot that day. Not every day is a win.
Another big challenge is how to maintain our presence in the community via money making shows and fairs. With Mr. Starshaped working most weekends, Jo is often stuck at the shows for long periods of time unless I can play the scheduling game for play dates and breaks. Babysitting costs are profit killers for weekend shows and we don't always have family in town to help. One way I've dealt with this is to let her make a print she can sell to other vendor friends, an activity she shares with screen printers Ella and CoCo. At $3 each, she usually makes about $80, all of which she can keep and spend at the fair if she chooses. This gives her focus as she carefully studies everything that's available before making her choices. She also interacts with other small businesses and makers and is developing a sense of where things come from and how they are made.
Occasionally I have what I think is a great idea to collaborate. This is met with wildly different reactions from Jo. We were asked to contribute to Galerie F's You Are Beautiful show in 2013 and I thought that given the nature of the show it would be a perfect opportunity to work with my beautiful daughter. She had other ideas. After a while of working on my own sketches she had a change of heart and decided to help, pulling type and placing it in a circular form. And hearts, of course. I added the readable text. She was just tall enough to run the press and helped with half of the edition on fabric. But it was seeing it hang in the gallery that made an impact.
We are regular visitors to Galerie F now as it is a favorite for both of us. For myself, I love that they champion outsider and street art that's dynamic and representative of our urban environment. For Jo, it's a great place to hang with the kids whose parents make it possible. If we want a generation of art appreciators, then we need to start on that generation right away.
In the midst of racing between home and school, karate and the studio, we do have blissfully creative moments of sharing or working independently in the same place. I strive to give her helpful critiques about projects while asking for hers in return. In this way, I hope she learns to talk about what she's trying to create while I demonstrate listening and legitimately caring about her opinions. 'Don't tell the parent police' is something I often jokingly whisper to her when we do what I coined a 'late night work night'. But some of our best, most creative spurts come at 9pm accompanied by a Nancy Drew audiobook.
Jo often has a response to pieces I've printed. Here she has redrawn our stationery (I'll take the Best Mom Ever, thanks).
She also drew her own versions of the P22 Member Cards I did in 2014, which you can see here. 'They need hearts!'
But my all time favorite is her Titanic piece, done while I was finishing mine in April 2012 in connection with the 100th anniversary of the sinking. These are the ones I keep. Because let's be honest, does anyone in the city have room for every charming drawing that comes out of their children?
It takes a village, indeed, and I am so fortunate to have a strong one in the print community. One of the largest we have is our family that meets at Hamilton. I am humbled and grateful for the cast of characters that welcome Jo and make her feel like part of the group, complete with name tags. We still have challenges while attending the Wayzgoose, including combating boredom, kid-level activities and maintaining manners. It's a work in progress, but as my brother, the teacher and father says, 'Kids are basically animals. It's our job to civilize them'.
We visited again recently over Spring Break to print and help out. I know, most kids don't have Hamilton in their top five vacation destinations and would prefer Disney World or at least Wisconsin Dells, but our budget doesn't allow for that right now. So Jo spent a day of pulling type and printing, which she eventually got into and came up with her own brilliant print, entirely of her own doing. As a friend commented, I WON motherhood that day.
Traveling has also gotten much easier as Jo has gotten older because she's invested in the destinations and helps to plan. We went on a week long Letterpress Trail trip in 2014 that was highly successful in terms of seeing a lot of fellow printers AND getting along remarkably well. I think this was the culmination of several smaller trips as well as striking a balance: today the children's museum, tomorrow Hatch. Swimming in Columbus by day so I can make wood type by night. It's parenting quid pro quo.
Included in our general travels is a yearly trip to the Genesee Country Village where Mr. Starshaped and I were married. They have a tiny historic print shop in which both of these pictures were taken in different years.
We visited 'Uncle Brad' Vetter and Adrienne Miller at her grad thesis show at Northern Illinois University. I love that Jo is exposed to different styles of printmaking and not just letterpress. It's fascinating to hear her take on other work and to gain an entirely different perspective, and these two have always valued her opinions and make her feel welcome. This was her favorite piece.
While enjoying our friends at Hatch Show Print, Jo got to hold a giant J, but mostly played with the cats which are still more interesting to a child than giant letters.
She operated a hand press at the Cary Graphic Arts Collection over Spring Break 2014 (do you sense a theme that doesn't involve theme parks? At least there were cousins along for this one).
And of course goofing off with our good friends Geri and Matt at Virgin Wood Type, also in Rochester, NY. Both parents, these two just get it and entertain Jo with the hell box of wood type so that the adults can talk.
The printmaking community of Chicago is a huge part of the village that helps us raise Jo. Here she is printing at the Hamilton benefit we hosted at Columbia College Book and Paper Arts Center. People really gave it up for a tiny blond at a printing press. She was a part of the team of organizers, volunteers and contributors that raised over $8000 in one day to assist the museum with its move. I like to think she learned the value of supporting something greater than oneself but she may have just really enjoyed counting up the money.
Former Starshaped intern Janice teaches classes at Spudnik Press. She also introduced Jo to Korean food and the myriad adorable Asian things to be found at the market. 'Mom! Can we please get the Pocky!?'
And of course at a Chicago Printers Guild meeting at Baker Prints. She's part of the next generation of printers within this group and is always happy to entertain the littler ones that sometimes come. Uncle Nick and Auntie Nadine Sonnenzimmer brought her this incredible little zine about printmaking from Honolulu Printmakers where they had recently curated a show.
This is the future home of Chicago Printmakers Collaborative. Deb has always been a great friend to me both as a printmaker and as a parent. Her philosophy about parenting and curiosity about her own (now grown) children has guided me through many deeper issues that have arisen over the years (Will my child hate me for not going to theme parks? Will she wish she had normal parents with 9-5 jobs? Is it okay she's an only child?). It's important to find a person that's a little farther down the road than oneself and she is the person for me.
We took advantage of a 'print jam' at Anchor Graphics to work with visiting artist Nuria Montiel. Jo was exposed to different cultures through the art of printmaking and conducted herself in a way that I was very proud of. She insisted on learning how to make xerox transfers and was not afraid to try her hand at etching presses.
Our own studio is a magnet for people I admire and who enjoy Jo's enthusiasm. Jessica Spring, one of my all time favorite printers and people, spent some time with us one afternoon. They worked together to figure out if we could get this little Dial-A-Letter typewriter working again. Another work in progress.
And of course it was a treat to have her in the studio at the same time as my former boss from Fireproof Press, John Upchurch. This is a very full circle photo for me, as Jo was able to enjoy spending time with a person that helped me pave my course in life, and whose parenting style I much admire.
Recently we hosted an event for Uppercase Magazine. Jo ran the Vandercook and showed others how to do so, including little Finley.
This note (with accompanying chocolate) was delivered from Deb at Chicago Printmakers after Jo and a friend hand brayered the final detail on posters we made for their 25th anniversary exhibit.
Exposing Jo to the talent and tenacity of women working in the city is very important to me. She currently has very little understanding of what sexism is, and I feel that seeing the great achievements of women first will SHOW instead of TELL her what is ridiculous about it. Below was one of the incredible Ladies Luncheon meet ups hosted by Julie of Letterform. An entire group of ladies in all different design fields, sharing stories of woe and exhilaration in each of their careers.
Every year I host the annual Starshaped Press dinner to thank interns and boosters for another year of making it work. At each dinner, everyone is required to share a major success or accomplishment of the past year along with a goal for the upcoming one. This way, we all keep each other on track and can be supportive when needed. Jo is now old enough to not interrupt but instead contribute; she shared work from her recent school activities. Here she is sitting next to 'Aunt Sarah' who saved me when Jo was first born and now has two small boys of her own.
These are a few of the prints that Jo has created in the studio. Sometimes she just plays and sometimes they are more thoughtful. I am always anxious to see what she'll do next as she begins to understand the studio is full of little treasures waiting to be printed.
A series of the photos I took of her first printing session in 2010 is now framed at the Platen Press Museum, a place that has been crucial to developing my skill set as a printer. 'Uncle Paul' has always been incredibly generous to Jo and is very much another grandparent to her. His wife, Irene, takes Jo when I spend a day at the museum, which Jo looks forward to as it involves baking, making crafts and walks along the creek. Again, it's a village. One in which you get to choose all of your neighbors.
Jo decided to revisit her Hamilton print when we got back from our trip and do a larger run in the studio. So much of this shows the nuances that she's picked up over the last 8 years, from how she feeds the paper to the gentle return.
[wpvideo mJP9gDeA]
I don't have any great insight about combining parenting and a small business though I am often asked. I could say that we make it up as we go along, but that's not entirely true either, as some careful planning is in place to pull together the schedules of multiple people, meet deadlines and get some rest. Some days are blissful and we hum along with great records and inspiration. Other days I can't do anything with her in the studio, go home to sleep when she sleeps and then go back at 11pm when Mr. Starshaped gets home. There's no balance, just making it work. But we have a great support group and that is probably the most essential piece of the puzzle, coupled with a sense of humor and acceptance that overnight spray for the ink was invented for parents.
This beautiful photo of Jo as the Hamilton Smokestack was taken by Celene Aubry from Hatch Show Print at the last Wayzgoose. Jo attached these clips with her traits on them. More than anything, I want her to grow up retaining all of these things: Butiful, Hevenly, Smart. Perfect.
*props to Sleater Kinney for the title of this post
With type and ornament, not imagery, my strong suit, I stalled, as no single typeface in the studio seemed right for the two words making an appearance on an otherwise graphic print. Maybe creating some type of geometric blackletter would provide me with the next challenging set of letterforms. This seemed like it might be appropriate for capturing... something, in the print that I couldn't quite nail down. So I started with the type and settled on lowercase as it was more appropriate for the size and, well, easier. I found a digital version that was relatively straightforward and started drawing over it, making changes to suit the geometry of metal type.
Then I narrowed down the sizes of potential ornaments to something I could find in the studio. The 'i' does not have a dot here as I planned to reflect the shape of it off of the 'h'. You'll see why.
I compiled ornaments and rules that felt like a good fit, knowing that I would need to miter the edges off of many sorts to make it happen.
I was concerned that my hand drawing wasn't true to ornament dimensions (can someone please make graph paper that's measured in picas!?), so I drew it on the computer, with each box and triangle representing the true size of the ornaments. This allowed me to put together an accurate cut list of rules, including the correct miters and quantities.
After collecting everything necessary I printed out a wrong reading guide on which to build. Slowly. But surely.
And then, there it was. Kerning issues waiting to be corrected.
This is a large portion of the shavings I mitered off of the rules and triangle ornaments to make them fit together. These scraps go back to the Platen Press Museum to be melted down and saved for future typecasting.
And then... how will the type play with the rest of the print? I pulled series of ornaments that fit my ideas of sky and started to build arcs. My handy rule bender saw a lot of action, creating leads and slugs that would shapes these curves.
The final form is attractive, mixing standard square and rectangular furniture alongside custom made angled pieces. This photo was taken after pulling a hand inked proof in copper gold on navy paper.
The first black and white proof looked great but I felt strongly that something was missing. I walked away from it for three weeks to stew. But I was still stuck, so I did what I do every time this happens. I ran to 'my' Sarah, former Starshaped Girl Friday, for another opinion and a life line. Together we brainstormed a linoleum cut with subtle nods to the ornaments in play but in a more abstract way. How I miss her in the studio.
This drawing, done on top of the black and white proof, was the final inked version I did before transferring it to linoleum. 
I first printed the brightest colors as a split fountain that began with copper gold and faded up to pale blue.
Following that I printed a slightly tinted transparent white for the linoleum, which has a varnish-like look. It's just enough to give depth to the print while not competing with the more delicate ornamentation. You can see in the detail the mirroring of larger, linoleum versions of the tinier elements.
I have stared at this blackletter. Probably for hours. Assembling this has been the hardest typographic work I've ever done and it's still so far from perfect. The miters aren't all spot on. Some rules are very beaten but were all I had. Printing was a challenge and it's not the finest I've ever done. None of these things bother me; if anything I'm glad that I used very geometric border pieces to give a bit of rigidity to what has somehow still retained a sense of 'hand' to it. I don't design type so my insecurities did what they always do and sought Rich for help. 'The C and O are taller by a pica... should I trim the tops down?' No... it's perfectly imperfect this way. 'Should I add a shadow to the type, printed in the transparent run, as I initially intended?' No, don't mess with the type; it stands alone. He's always right.
The easiest part was setting the bottom credit. Just a simple, straight up line of type. And you can see here how the first row of curved ornaments balance between the dot of the 'i' and the top of the 'h'. Not perfect, but close.
As I write this, I'm still uncertain about the final print. Sure, it provided me with all of the challenges I enjoy within my craft. The colors did exactly what I wanted them to do. The final piece is attractive to look at. But did it capture the sense of time I wanted to freeze? I don't know, but I am weepy when looking at it and think this reaction is a gut one stemming from the subconscious feelings I encounter at actual magic hour. The understanding that despite whatever lengthy shift has just concluded, I spent it doing something that feeds my drive and is chased with a moment of comfort, knowing this sky is there to guide me through the next 12 hours, whatever they bring.
