Charles Avery Ingle, In Loving Memory

A year ago, today, a good friend of mine--and a good friend to many others--took his own life. One week before his third-year wedding anniversary; two weeks before his 23rd birthday; six weeks after he returned from Iraq. Whether it feels like it's been more or less than a year, it's too long to have been without him.

My perfect prom date: he waited with me all night while I puked my guts up from--what recurring bad luck would go on to dub--an "allergy to formal wear," AKA poorly timed gastroenteritis (my best friend was equally sympathetic while I heaved behind her in my bridesmaid's dress, en route to her "I do's," because I'm lucky enough to have terribly patient and understanding friends haha).

Charlie never saw the start of Warren Tales, but he would have been Warren's personal cheerleader--like Powder Puff all over again: high energy, elaborate bravado, and a dash of cross-dressing for effect. It is my firm belief that within a few weeks he would have either produced a flag to wave, or a hat to parade, in enthusiastic support. He gave everything he had to everyone he met, and we loved him dearly, in return. And so, I commemorate him in paper, in loving memory.

 Watercolor and pencil on paper doily.

Beatrix Potter: A Warren Tales Adventure In Ceramics

Since September, I have been happily participating in a community pottery class, for beginners. This is my first foray into the ceramic arts, and I have found it aptly challenging and exhilarating.

The fact that this is really only my first time working with clay (with the exception of my preschool masterpiece that continues to parade it's elegantly subjective "mouse" shape on my parents' mantle) surprised me, considering my love for all things that involve using my hands and making a mess. When I took a moment to think back to art opportunities offered at my high school, however, I blurrily recalled a 6:30am "E-Period" schedule. . . . And so, art was defeated by the only thing I love more: sleep. Alas (and alack).

When I first stepped into class (after shrinking into the wall with my uncharacteristic, and yet usual "first day" jitters), I thought we were going to be making pinch pots for the first month, while we aligned our subliminal Mr. Miyagi training. But after no more than about 5 minutes of clay-doodling (see above for my spiral cone, AKA bee hive/snail shell amalgamation), our delightfully lackadaisical teacher--who much more accurately embodies Tony Hale, circa his guest-bit character on an episode of Community, as Jeff's pottery instructor (S01E19)--sent us to the mercy of the ever-judgmental wheel! He quickly taught us how to correctly knead our globs of clay in order to follow the counter-clockwise rotation of the equipment, and then it was me versus the machine. . .

I threw; it spun. I pushed; it--did very little at first, as I'm lacking in upper-body strength these days, but eventually--formed. I spoke to it in pretentious cliches that alluded to dancing; it told me to quit rambling and get to the point. And so I created a serving dish and a plate, each around 6 or 7 inches in diameter (trimming and glazing were done in later classes, obviously):

Naturally, after I left my first class--on top of the world from having bested the wheel--I proceeded to tell as many people as seemingly possible that I was an unstoppable force of prodigal ceramic talent, and that they should put their orders in now before I'm swamped with admiration and business.

Naturally, that over-sized, head-shaped bubble quickly deflated with my unstoppable perfectionism and frustration, and recurring pencil-pot-shaped creations.

It looks like I'm not the next [insert Mozart of ceramics here]: I'm easily bored/distracted amid all the spinning; have yet to plan ahead and design what I want to make before I get behind the wheel (don't think and drive, kids); trimming is the nemesis of my anal retentiveness; and I'm a lazy glazer. However, I have picked it up quickly and successfully, and I'm having a helluva good time with both the clay work and with my classmates; so it looks like I'll have to settle for being "that kid" in class, who does things well without necessarily trying (see again, aforementioned episode of Community).

And while you roll your eyes, groaning that I am indeed "that kid," you can take a gander at my slowly growing body of work:

Note: No Ghost moments were reenacted during the making of these products.

Stay tuned for another Warren Tales experiment: Adventures In Film: Sleeping Through Photography Class.

A Howling Eve To All You Boggarts & Gouls

This month has traveled in a whole manner of creative directions: postcards, poetry, pottery, photography, party planning, paper, playlists, and presents!

For a dear friend, who was born on Halloween, I have stitched together "Franken-baby." A monstrous compilation of colourful and textured fabrics; turned right-side-out and stuffed! Franken-baby comes for you in the middle of the night...and makes a highly huggable sleep companion.

Happy birthday, Molly, and Happy Halloween.

I'm a Business, Man

Warren Tales now has business cards!

Printed on luxe white (textured) card stock (210g weight, I believe), with rounded corners.

I'm looking toward getting a stamp made some time in the upcoming future, mainly for use as a tag on the back of Warren Tales products themselves, but for the purposes of business cards, I could not be happier with how these turned out, and I'm so glad to have made them myself! Seems fitting, after all.

Warren Tales postcards are also available!

Warren Tales Around the World

As I clumsily plod my way through the ins and outs of starting a small company, I find myself getting an unintentional crash course on a business approach to the internet, also. While I enjoy claiming that I "don't need" the internet (no matter how much time I dedicate to my meticulously organized Pinterest account, or the sincere and loving, yet tragically lackluster effort I make to keep up with friends and family I no longer have the pleasure of sharing a town with), I also don't need the headache that comes with trying to figure everything out on your own. For example, spreadsheets typically make me nauseous. Solution: a web-based data analysis program. 

And so, my favourite new "business" tool has been Google Analytics. This incredibly useful program provides me with reports on site traffic, visitation lengths, and a whole bushel of other such practical information like search term referrals. Rather than focusing on how to best use this wealth of information to do something practical, like boost visitation, however, I seem to be overwhelmingly taken with one, seemingly trivial report: Map Overlay.

This report gives me the geographic location of the blog's visitors, down to the city (it's all a little less creepy than it sounds, but when you actually think about it, probably not that much less...it really is pretty weird). But more important than any 1984 grumblings one tends to feels about the collection of this information, is the absolute joy I receive each time I get the chance to see where followers and supporters of Warren Tales come from.

I can't adequately express my appreciation for everyone who has supported me in my efforts to bring this passion for paper to life, but hopefully an earnest thank you will be a good enough start.

Thank you.

Clearly, Warren Tales has been getting a lot of love, and it's my pleasure to bring it on back to you with a new line of location cards. All cards are hand-stitched and feature a colourful X-marks-the-spot over your humble abode, as well as a typed caption, below. These folded cards measure 3 1/2" x 4 7/8" and come with a corresponding kraft envelope. Cards are typically made on superfine soft white stock (with the exception of an island, for which I would be very tickled to make a splash with pool blue--da dum chee!), but state/country and border colours vary. Cards cost $5 each, or $12 for 3 (not including shipping), and orders will be processed as a reserved purchase through Etsy. Contact me at warrentales@gmail.com with any questions and requests, and let's get some snails in the mail!

BUT there's a catch! I will only make cards for cities that appear on my darling Map, and I will only take orders through warrentales@gmail.com (this is a blog-o-love exclusive, so only the purchase transaction itself will go through Etsy). This won't be any problem if you are interested in the city you are currently reading this in, but if you want to send something sweet to a friend or loved one across the state, country, or globe; or are daydreaming of a favourite getaway, then you're going to have to spread the word! 


For the most up-to-date list of places where wonderful people live, and cities that are thus eligible for these customized cards, check out the "Credit Where Credit is Due" sidebar to the right.

Out of Sight, But Not Out of Mind -- Or Work

Although my online presence has been less than omniscient these days, I've had some great custom orders, including my two biggest to-date, and I'm excited to finally share them with the world. So, as I close out day two in my hurricane Irene protective bubble, I can't think of a better time to catch you up on some of the projects I've worked on over the last few months...

First up was a round of graduation announcements for a Northern Arizona University undergraduate. These were my first adventure into printed products, and it couldn't have gone any better.

I pulled from a specific pallet to match the school colors, and used a very simple border design to compliment the rounded corners of the card. Choosing the correct font style was also an important decision, as it needed to fit in to the brown-paper-packages-tied-up-with-string, favorite things (minus the edelweiss) aesthetic I was going for. Eventually, I settled on something formal, yet light-hearted and hand-written--a thin and short, cursive text (unfortunately the name of the font is escaping me at this moment, but I will add it as an edit at a later time). Finally, to incorporate the hands-on element, I used textured white card, tied with a neutral hemp yarn (to emphasize the printed colors), and a grooved, brass-colored button to make it "pop" (a very technical crafting term, clearly). Each card was then delivered in a navy envelope, and a gold paint-pen was provided for addresses (not pictured).

This style is great for event announcements, as the tied package design is ideal for keeping multiple information cards together; or as a way of giving texture to a single card, as exemplified here.

For a set of 60, this order came to $120 (price subject to change according to material costs)

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Next up was a graduation gift combining a hanging frame with the individual's interest in antique keys. I had found an amazing array of old brass keys (check out Village Renewal in Brookline Village, MA for a variety of treasures), and the premise of this combination came from wanting a nicer way to present and display them than by the handful, but still having the option to take them out and enjoy them individually. What I settled on was a retractable frame with wire ties that would allow each key to be held inconspicuously and removed easily.

It's a pretty simple construction involving a base layer, some inner scaffolding, and an outer frame (the tray involves the same), all covered much in the same way as one would approach book binding, using two different hand-made decorative papers. I installed the ribbon hanger through an incision in the base layer, used an awl to puncture a series of holes, and thin but durable copper wire (resistant to breakage with use) to twisty-tie and secure the keys. The outer frame keeps the tray in place, and by undercompensating on the tray's inner scaffolding, the frame all sits evenly! The only issue I had with this frame was not having quite enough wire connectors on some of the smaller keys (causing them to swivel when moving the tray around), but that's an easy fix. Needless to say, both I, and the graduate were very pleased with the final product.

I would estimate this price of this frame (9"x6") to be around $40 (not including the keys), but the price would very much depend on the dimensions.

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Last of all, wedding thank you's! The biggest Warren Tales request, to-date, went to a wonderful couple in California, this month. For a country wedding, we went with a simple and clean, but weathered aesthetic.

A smooth superfine soft white card with rounded corners, featuring the bride and groom's names typed (on a typewriter, of course) on the front and accompanied by a faded harbor boot stamp, as well as a light blue hemp yarn double-tie over the spine, tied with a knot (no pun intended, but always appreciated). Each of these cards were paired with a paper bag envelope, and bound in bundles of ten with a personalized "Mr. & Mrs." wrap (also typed).

For a set of 120, this order came to $300 (price subject to change according to material costs)

Pleasing Mr. Postman: Savoring letter-writing in digital age - The Boston Globe

I am excited to announce that snail mail (and Warren Tales) made the front page of The Boston Globe, today! Several mail enthusiasts, including myself, were interviewed about our love and use of the postal system, and our feelings concerning 3,600 possible USPS location closures. It's a wonderful little article, written by Boston Globe correspondent, Anna Marden, and will hopefully inspire many more people to try their hand at letter-writing.