Snowy days. Starry nights. "And since we've no place to go, Let it go, Let it go, Let it go..." (A Case For Not Sending 'E' Cards)

Engaging conversations. Sipping Papillon Hermitage. Snacking on Prince De Clavrolle Cheese and a baguette from Tom Cat Bakery as we make up our own words to the "Let it snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow"  song and replace them with "Let it Go, Let it Go, Let it Go." 

We are snow-bound in my studio apartment and looking out onto my terrace garden celebrating my winter note-card collection and so this is my first 'in-between-Saturdays-post.' 

We are not 'E' card people, and while we are fairly proficient in using the computer, and are very much concerned about our environment (we don't "waste" paper), we like to keep in touch in a personal way which is often by mailing a card.

This causes me to think how grateful I am for some of the 'paper-cards' — as they are now branded — that I have gotten in the past. While I am not a collector, I have kept some very special paper cards that I have received. I've even framed some cards. One card that I have framed is from the summer after sixth grade. It is one that I received from my Great-Aunt Grace (who had eyes like Bette Davis eyes — long before the pop tune coined the phrase — but not the personality Kim Carnes  depicted in that song), my maternal grandmother's sister, who I always remembered as having been to the World's Fair (as seen below) in New York City, which even as a child, is a place where I wanted to live.

That summer had been hard. I was very overwhelmed: My father had moved away the year prior, my Neurofibromatosis was now causing bumps to appear everywhere on my body. I wanted contact lenses, because my left eye was frequently turning inward from the lack of acuity  that it had, and my eye-doctor had told my parents that contacts would help with this problem as well as help to correct my low vision. 

Additionally, I would be attending a new school in the fall —the junior high school — where I would be going from room to room for various classes as opposed to having everything taught in one room, and I  was nervous I would not have time between classes to arrive on time. I even thought of my possibly missing the elementary school kids despite the fact that they didn't pick me to be on their Murder Ball team because of my low depth perception causing me to be an "easy-out." At least they had seen my physical problems and the teasing me about them had subsided; now I'd have to start all over again by being with different kids.

Most of all, I was overwhelmed because I could not comfort my mother, who cried constantly over my father's leaving us. I knew I could share these thoughts with my Great-Aunt Grace, who often 'baby-sat' when my mother needed someone to take care of me. I was looking forward to seeing Grace on my birthday, but that was not to be. My dear great-aunt died unexpectedly in her sleep. She had been discovered dead, by her land-lady, after having turned blue in her bed. I still received the birthday card that  she had put in the mail prior to her fatal day. It arrived (featured below out of its frame) the day after I got the news that she had died, and it was to let me know she'd be thinking of me on "my day" as she called it. On the back of the card my Great Aunt wrote, "Will see you before long."

 

Now at my launching of my winter-card-line soirée, we agree, "These kind of treasures aren't the same as an 'E' card that's been archived in your e-mail account-folder, with the threat of  a link breaking if you want to view it again." Being snowbound and drinking wine is fueling our nostalgia as we continue to talk about  framing cards. Our attention is now on another card that I have framed is posted below:

As you can see, a car is pulling into a parking space in a crowded lot. We can infer the driver is pleased to find a place to park. I received this as a birthday card from my father, with whom I'd finally reconnected on a minimal communication level, after having lived in New York City a number of years.  My conversations with my father did not go much beyond the weather and cholesterol levels — despite my yearning for a relationship. He was a man of few words, but he sent me this card upon hearing I'd found an apartment — the living space where I am now - that I truly love. "Sometimes paper-cards can express what we cannot articulate," my friends and I conclude as the snow continues to fall and the wine warms us. My inclination to frame certain cards has led me to design cards that are suitable for framing which you may have seen in my previous posts but I'll include here for convenience.

The following are some selections from my new winter card line that we have been celebrating.The first is titled Snowbound, the second is titled Hibernating, and the third is titled Family Life In Central Park. (These are all petite fold-out cards.)

The images in the first two cards posted above are from my terrace which provides me with solace and inspiration. The third card is derived from an image taken in Central Park, a few yards a way from my apartment. Winter in New York City brings out the need to sculpt as evidenced in my image, Snow Diva in Central Park, for  the new single-sided card line.

The front of the card is the right portion, the back of the card with the title of the image is the left hand portion. The card is blank inside and sized the same as the Petite Fold-Outs (5" by 4 and 1/4"). As you may recall  from my "day one" post, I've been inspired by the snow-sculptures constructed in Central Park after a winter storm, as evidenced by one of my very first line of note cards, Round Yon Virgin, an image of a snow sculpture of the Madonna and Child, seen near the Delacorte Theatre in Central Park.

If you see cards posted here, I can make arrangements for you to purchase them. 

Meanwhile, we are still watching the snow fall, as we look out onto my garden (it has accumulated quite a bit since we began our soirée). Although we are surrounded by snow, we are now talking about our forthcoming spring card collection. After all, just a few weeks ago, Staten Island Chuck, the New York  City Ground Hog, saw his shadow, and despite the heavy snow fall this evening, we know spring will be here soon, so we hope you do celebrate winter with friends, sip Hot Chocolate -infused with bitters!

FALL 2018 ADDENDUM: 

I no longer actively produce event program covers, invitations and the types of greeting cards described here or on my website but arrangements might be able to be made under certain circumstances. My focus is on the Words In Our Beak book series, pictured below...

MY BOOK SERIES

...whose stories are told from the point of view of Cam, a female cardinal, whose photo is on the cover of each book. Words In Our Beak’s goal is to open readers to a simple understanding of the winged world and their environment. Set in my rooftop urban garden in New York City. Words In Our Beak is directed to children and adults who are curious about birds, and want to learn about them from a unique perspective. The books include hundreds of images of flora and fauna, links to movies, as well as to informative narratives that have been created by the author.

Please click here to go to my blog post that provides details as to where you can get these books.

Additionally,  I have rendered some images from these books into other formats and they are available via Fine Art America (FAA). Some of my other photographs (Black & White Collection, Kaleidoscopic Images and the famous Mandarin duck who visited NYC) can also be found on my FAA pages.