Christmas 2024 Greeting Cards

The theme: Arizona Fair Isle.

Some random sweater anecdotes:

Many years ago, I copped out of illustrating Christmas cards and instead bought a “Make Your Own Ugly Sweater Greeting Card” kit from Paper Source. It contained photo postcards of sweaters with sheets of stickers to adorn each sweater.

In December 2005, during my freshman year of college, my friends and I went to RiverTown Crossings Mall. At Gap, I bought the coolest grandpa/Mr. Rogers cardigan - 100% wool, grey, large buttons, perfect fit. Nineteen years later, I still wear that sweater. But it’s pilling a lot…

This autumn, I attempted to replace that Gap cardigan. No luck, but I browsed through a lot of sweaters online, including Fair Isle styles. The online browsing inspired this year’s Christmas card.

Read about the history of the Fair Isle sweater here.

For a southwest/Arizona twist, I thought about replacing the wintery Fair Isle symbols of pine trees, snowflakes and deer with cacti, flowers and javelinas. But during an initial sketch, I remembered how ugly and shapeless (and unidentifiable) javelinas were and scrapped that idea. So instead: cacti, cacti flowers and lots of stars.

Fall Colors

A few weeks ago, I decided to take an afternoon drive and explore southern Arizona. I chose Patagonia, about an hour and fifteen minutes from my apartment. The drive — mountains all around — was prettier than the destination, but there weren’t many places to stop or even pull off along Route 82/83. The fall colors were lovely and unexpected.

Patagonia was tiny and touristy, so I drove up a few random neighborhood streets to see the view.

Back down on the main road…

And my Ford Focus is still kicking. It has new sound effects every few weeks.

Valspar Forge

I finally painted my room - and I love how it turned out. But the color is difficult to capture accurately. First, I photographed the makeover process with my digital SLR. But in every photograph, the walls looked grey or Crayola Purple. So all of these shots are from my phone.

Some before images:

The walls were marked and strangely patched when I moved into my apartment. This monsoon season, the roof leaked and damaged the walls even more. That leak led to a worse patch job. I knew the paint wouldn’t hide everything.

A reminder of the inspiration:

The shadows on the mountains.

Initially, I selected two paint chips from Ace Hardware - two purples with brown/grey undertones. But I decided they weren’t dark enough, so I went to Lowe’s and found the darkest brown/grey purple: Forge by Valspar.

In an effort to save money, I turned my Discover credit card cash back bonus into a $200 Lowe’s gift card. The paint and supplies (and a few extras like plant stands) totaled $150.

I had an unrealistic goal that I could paint my four bedroom walls in two hours. It took seven hours.

The Color of the Shadows on the Mountains

When I renewed my lease in Tucson for the first time, I vowed I would paint my bedroom walls. That was January 2023. It’s August 2024 and the walls are still off-white.

In all my years of renting, I never painted my apartment walls (except for stenciling above my fireplace in Kentwood). I want something dramatic and I’ve settled on the color of the shadows on the mountains — or something close to it.

So what color is “the color of the shadows on the mountains” exactly? It’s a dark violet-grey with a hint of brown. Some inspiration:

The view from my balcony.

* not my image

Looking east at sunset colors reflecting in the clouds after a monsoon.

An affirmation card I liked.

Sunset over the Tucson mountains.

* not my image

Foster Plants

My friend is moving and he’s doing it in stages. For now, I’m plant-sitting for him but in my own apartment. Even though the additional plants are temporary, I decided to style them into my space.

The Sky

A random collection of sky photos. The first vantage point is from the courtyard at Nightjar, my favorite bar — so far — in Tucson:

The soaring palm trees surrounding the pool at my apartment:

Those same palm trees, as seen from my balcony:

A clear sky during happy hour:

The fake sky at Casino Del Sol:

Grey and Dreary

Winter 2024 in Tucson has been grey and dreary. (I thought I left that behind in Michigan.) And it has rained more this winter than last year’s monsoon season. Whenever I need a mood booster, I make a new playlist or go to the cactus nursery. So last week, on a drizzly day off, I went to B&B Cactus. I didn’t buy anything, but I spent over an hour looking at all the new growth. Cacti are pretty crazy.

A different view of the dreariness — from the rooftop at work:

Palimpsest (and a Book Review)

One of my favorite college professors was Susanna Engbers and she taught Humanities courses at KCAD. In Dr. Engbers’ Places in Literature class, we read and discussed stories with dystopian societies. We came across an unusual word in one of the stories. None of the students knew the meaning, so Dr. Engbers described the exterior of buildings in Downtown Grand Rapids that had painted advertisements on them. But that paint had worn away over time, been painted over or built over, then exposed again years later. I thought it was an interesting term but forgot the word over the years. That was 2007 or 2008.

Fast forward to December 2023. In need of a new book to read poolside, I visited my local library. I browsed the special “Lucky Day” section near the entrance. When searching for a new book, my initial search is based off of the cover design or the title on the spine. If my interest is piqued by the cover or title, I read the book blurb. If the story sounds good, I flip through the pages to see the font size and make sure it’s not too small. Short chapters help too.

On this random day in December, I picked up Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow. The cover design featured Under the Wave off Kanagawa by Katsushika Hokusai overlaid with 1990s video game typeface.

The book blurb described friends, video games, different cities and love and loss, all spanning thirty years. I didn’t care about video games, but I gave the book a try. The first bit was wordy and a little boring, but then the author began making connections between different time periods - tiny, charming moments that made me smile. I wanted to keep reading.

When I’m reading and come across new-to-me vocabulary, I write the words down on scrap paper. One of the many words I wrote down from Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow was “palimpsest.” After finishing the chapter, I typed the word into the Merriam-Webster app on my phone.

1: writing material (such as a parchment or tablet) used one or more times after earlier writing has been erased
2: something having usually diverse layers or aspects apparent beneath the surface

And from a blog I Googled:

“The word palimpsest descends from the Latin palimpsestus, which in turn comes from the Greek palimpsēstos, meaning ‘scraped again.’ This refers to the ancient practice of scraping the writing off a piece of parchment or vellum so that it might be reused. Likewise, the remains of old painted advertisements are referred to as palimpsests because of their resemblance to old, scraped manuscripts that here and there, beneath their surfaces, reveal traces of earlier words.”

Wait. What?!?! That was the word I had forgotten all those years ago in Places in Literature! Immediately, I Googled the stories we read in that class, along with “palimpsest” and connected the dots. The word was used in Cormac McCarthy’s The Road. “The billboards had been whited out with thin coats of paint in order to write on them and through the paint could be seen a pale palimpsest of advertisements for goods which no longer existed.” I had come full circle by accident.

Back to Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow. Overall, I recommend it. It was pleasant and fun and kept my attention. I wanted to know which relationships lasted. I cried a few times while reading it. If a story (book, TV show, movie) has me emotionally invested in characters, that’s a good sign. Was it the best book I’ve ever read? No. Did I know there was so much hype around this book? Nope.

I’m a slow reader. I’ve grown accustomed to the library generously auto-renewing each book I checkout. I never start and finish a book in two weeks. With this book, the first reminder email arrived from the library. “We are unable to renew this title.” (I didn’t understand the concept of “Lucky Day.”) The story was good but I still had a couple hundred pages left, so I decided to keep the book and pay the late fees. At work on overnight shifts, I read a lot. Two guests commented separately. “Oh! You’re reading Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow. Great book. Amazon’s book of the year.” News to me. I Googled the hype and learned rights were purchased to make the story into a movie before the novel was even published.

Waymo, Tempe, Christmas Sights

In the autumn, I visited a cousin in Scottsdale. While driving around, I noticed a lot of futuristic, pimped-out, black and white electric cars with strange spinners mounted on their roofs and sides — but without drivers. I was confused. Later, I asked my cousin about them and she explained they were driverless taxis. She hadn’t ridden in one. In mid-December, I returned to the Phoenix area to visit an uncle. While walking from dinner back to my hotel, I watched three men exit another hotel and hop into a Waymo, the driverless taxi. I was intrigued.

I returned to my hotel and began researching. Waymo only existed in greater Phoenix and greater San Francisco. Ideal weather and driving conditions. Large enough populations to justify the technology and costs. The vehicles only traveled on main roads, not highways. The futuristic, pimped-out car was actually a Jaguar. Comparable pricing to Uber and Lyft but without a driver to tip. I vowed to experience Waymo for myself.

After a nightcap at the hotel bar, I installed the Waymo app and watched a few videos. I was geeked.

The plan was to Waymo to and from my uncle’s apartment the following evening. I could avoid driving in rush hour in Tempe/Scottsdale/Phoenix. I could look out the window and enjoy the views.

Well, some views were less than desirable. Instead of cruising along on the highway, my not-driver and I zigzagged through the ghettos of Phoenix. Initially called the Google Self-Driving Car Project, Waymo used Google Maps. You know in Google Maps when you want to drag the little person to a Street View but can’t? Waymo can only drive in places that the Google Maps car has photographed for Street View. For example, Waymo couldn’t enter the parking lot of my uncle’s apartment complex. (The parking lot doesn’t light up blue on Google Maps, indicating the ability to drop the little person there for a Street View.) So instead, my not-driver dropped me off in the alley behind the dry cleaner’s next to my uncle’s complex and picked me up in the neighborhood across the street. Definitely not an inconvenience. I mean, c’mon. The car DRIVES ITSELF. It can have a pass for getting confused by a parking lot.

But for the actual ride… wowza. The technology was crazy cool. My initials were illuminated atop the Jaguar, so I would know which Waymo was mine, should there be a throng of them near my pickup spot. To thwart anyone else from stealing my ride, I unlocked the car doors from the Waymo app on my phone. The flush handles popped out, I pulled and got in. “Welcome, Mike!” the computer voice greeted me. Similar to riding on an airplane, there was a recorded safety message. The spinning sensors mounted on the outside of the car were constantly scanning our surroundings. Two large screens inside showed an illustrated, real-time aerial view of the Waymo, White, rounded rectangles represented all the vehicles and cyclists on the road around us. The not-driver couldn’t drive faster than the speed limit (which would make passing on the highway challenging).

Riding in a Waymo was awesome. I felt like I was living in the future or an episode of “Westworld.” I laughed a lot - out of pure amazement - but I was never in fear of getting into an accident. The next time I’m in the Phoenix area, I’ll be riding in Waymos again.

Here are some other sights from Tempe/Phoenix/Scottsdale: the ASU campus, the balcony view from my hotel room, night spotlights and a gothic Christmas display at Nordstrom.

Christmas 2023 Greeting Cards

2023 was the year of pink for me. I noticed hues of pink - natural or unnatural - in my everyday life. The abundance of pink led me to purchase a pink iPhone and unsurprisingly, guided me to design pink Christmas cards. I chose the color long before I knew what to draw. But the colors, imagery and theme all fell into place perfectly. Love when that happens.

I wanted to make it easy for myself, so I decided I would draw one illustration, then photocopy the image onto card stock. I could color each card separately without needing to draw and ink the illustration over and over again. To thwart my usual procrastination, I ordered paper supplies from Paper Source in November with a goal to send out my Christmas cards December 1. Pffff! I didn’t start the illustration until December 9.

This year’s color palette - official names from Paper Source - is rose, opal and brown paper bag. Rose card stock for the printed illustration, iridescent opal flat cards for the backing and brown paper bag for the envelope. (If you received a different color envelope, it’s because I was using up past years’ envelopes. Sorry.)

For the illustration, I wanted to depict Arizona/the Southwest/Christmas, but wasn’t sure how to do it. I scrolled through photos on my laptop of my first visit to Tucson (before I decided to move here). I stopped on these images of San Xavier del Bac Mission and a home in Barrio Viejo:

Sunset happy hour on my balcony has become an integral part of my days off. I knew I wanted to capture some aspect of that small window of time when the sky and mountains are pink and purple. But this was a Christmas card, so I had to reference the rare snow-topped mountains too.

Now how to wrap all these elements into a contained landscape with a Christmas reference? Where does it always snow even if the climate is warm? Inside a snow globe.

Here’s my workspace. The larger snow globe drawing on white was the original illustration. I scaled it down.

Arizona Plants, Following Lines, Rooftop Yoga

This post started as a random photo dump, but then I noticed the recurring motifs.

My closest Starbucks is inside Safeway. It’s about a mile from my apartment. Sometimes I walk there, cutting through one of the neighborhoods near my apartment complex. The other day I walked past this barrel cactus with its fruit. I’m still in awe of Arizona’s strange plants and blue sky.

Most of my plants are still doing well. I move them around my apartment throughout the day so they get just the right kind of light.

Pink Moon is a store around the corner from work. A very bohemian-hipster general store. I’ve purchased a few planters there.

Seeing lines, shadows and symmetry makes me miss the original days of Instagram.

In hopes of drumming up more business for my monthly rooftop yoga class at work, I decided to capture videos and photos for the marketing department to use. After working an overnight shift, I took my tripod and phone up to the rooftop, then improvised some flows. Once I had the images ready, I emailed marketing. No response, no reaction. I emailed again and tried texting. Still nothing. View the entire gallery here.

Autumn Sights and Plans

I take advantage of my balcony on days when I’m home for sunset. If I’ve spent the afternoon at the pool or doing yoga, I aim to be showered and starting happy hour before sunset so I can sit on my balcony and watch the mountains and sky change color. The birds flock away and the bats come out.

At work, I covered a few overnight shifts. Getting out of work at 6:30 in the morning gives me a push to explore downtown in daylight hours.

Rooftop yoga at Graduate began indoors in the winter, but moved outside for spring, summer and now fall. Class sizes fluctuate, but I’m hoping promotional images can entice more students.

Here’s a sneak peek test shot. More to come soon.

The End of Apple Watch Selfies

This blog post is long overdue. I bought my new phone in February 2023, so I should’ve written this back then. I’m lazy.

I knew my #AppleWatchSelfie series would end once I got a new phone. My Apple Watch - Series 0 - hasn’t been updatable since watchOS 4 and it dropped off Apple’s list of compatible devices in September 2018. (It worked with my iPhone 7. The current Series 8 watch runs on watchOS 9.) My watch’s face earned several battle scars over the years: scrapes, scratches and chips from moving boxes at a grocery store, failed attempts at rock climbing and drunken late nights.

I used Marriott points - earned on Ferris State University’s dime - to get that watch back in 2016. I decided that when the watch became obsolete, I wouldn’t spend my own money to replace it. The selfies were fun, moving furniture around and positioning my phone atop stacks of books to get the perfect vantage point. Fitness tracking was interesting and often times surprising. But, I can still capture selfies with just my phone and I roughly know how many calories I burn doing poolside yoga.

It has been a lovely journey from mostly-dark brown hair in Michigan (and various forms of facial hair) to mostly-grey hair in Arizona. Thanks for following along!

Blooming

Random sights from the past month.

The cacti flowers are blooming like crazy.

Sometimes the sunlight hits something so perfectly: the steps of the Arizona History Museum and the Graduate Hotel lobby bikes.

I drive past this building twice a day. It looks like a bar but I think it’s a home. Finally I was spontaneous enough to stop my car, get out and snap a photo.

This David planter is so cool, but there must be something toxic in the resin because three plants have died in it. I gave up and filled it with creosote branches.

Put down your phone. Organize your space. Stretch. Preach!

Selfie in a Moonstone restroom before June’s rooftop yoga class.

Balcony Views

Various colors of the sky and mountains.

February 2022

June 2022

August 2022

August 2022

September 2022

September 2022

November 2022

November 2022

December 2022

December 2022

January 2023

March 2023

Pink

The government took its sweet time processing and sending my 2021 tax refund. I received my refund in February 2023 and decided to put the money toward a new phone. My iPhone 7 had been great: slim, simple, good camera. But in the past year or so, the phone’s battery noticeably deteriorated. I needed to charge my phone three times a day.

I compared the iPhone 13 and 14. There weren’t enough differences to justify the 14’s higher price, so I chose the 13. I knew I wanted a case that had a design on it but was still clear, allowing the phone color to show through. Then I hemmed and hawed over the phone color. Back in the days of a KCAD work phone, my iPhone 4S was Black, my 5S was Space Gray and my 6S was Gold. When it was time to buy my very own iPhone, I chose Silver for my 7. This time around, I wanted a new-to-me color. Too many people I know have a blue or green iPhone. Product Red was not getting my money. Starlight was too similar to Silver. Pink? Really?!

But it’s not bright pink. It’s subtle. And when I found the perfect case online, the sample photo used the Pink iPhone 13. Fate.

Since moving to Arizona, I’m embracing the desert color palette. While pink isn’t always natural in the landscape, I notice it a lot around me.

A pink house in the Sam Hughes neighborhood.

My friend Jordan’s ballet slipper pink nails.

A dusty pink wall in the Sam Hughes neighborhood.

Pink clouds and purple mountains.

Bright pink lamp posts in the San Clemente neighborhood.

The pink elevator lobby outside The Moonstone.

Pale pink packaging from a candle brand I like.

A soft pink house in the Rancho Perdido neighborhood.

Apartment and Pet Sitting

Over Christmas, I apartment and pet sat for a friend who lives in the Sam Hughes neighborhood. Meet Remy, Charlie and the guesthouse that looks like a store at La Encantada.

A real Christmas tree!

The awesome shower.

Waking up each morning.

Remy was kinda shaggy and debris got caught in his fur every time we walked. So I gave him a slight trim…

… He was mad at me for a while, but then forgave me and returned to my side for nighttime TV-watching.

The doors and landscaping in Sam Hughes were lovely.

Hetu Yoga

This past summer, a friend convinced me to start an online yoga business. After a lot of video calls, texts, research, photo shoots and set up, Hetu Yoga launched in November. Check out the site here and read the entire background story here.

The first month in business has been quiet, but having the company and site earned me a teaching gig at work. Beginning in January, I’ll be teaching a weekly power yoga class on the hotel’s rooftop! On the first and third Wednesdays of each month, class will meet at 7:00 a.m. On the second and fourth Wednesdays, class will shift to 11:00 a.m. For the cooler winter months, class will be inside the rooftop lounge. But once the temps are high enough, we’ll move our mats out to the terrace.

Sign up for rooftop yoga here.

B&B Cactus Farm

While planning my trip to check out Tucson back in 2021, I discovered B&B Cactus Farm on a blog. It looked fun, so I added it to my itinerary. And I’m glad I did. It was awesome and magical. Rows and rows of greenhouses with the coolest, strangest-looking plants. I took tons of photos and videos, then gushed about the farm to everyone back home. (But the photos in this post are from last week!)

Whenever anyone visits me in Tucson, B&B Cactus Farm is on the list of places we go. And so far, everyone has loved it. Even without visitors, I shop at B&B regularly. Whenever I’m in need of a living, green, sculptural addition to my apartment, I go there. The drive down far-east Speedway is rolling and relaxing. Sprawling ranches, mountains and sky. Some trivia: The 90s kids’ show “Hey Dude” was filmed at a ranch down the street from B&B.

I had much better luck with houseplants in Michigan. I’ve killed a few cacti here in Tucson, but they’re inexpensive and I’m determined to help some thrive. Lastly, the plants in Tucson attract a lot of hummingbirds:

Monsoon Season

In Michigan, there’s a dumb saying. “Don’t like the weather? Wait five minutes.” It’s especially accurate on a typical summer day in Michigan: sunny, then cloudy, then sunny again, then a thunderstorm, then sunny again. Arizona’s monsoon season is similar, but more severe.

My cousin in Arizona told me she grew to appreciate the cloudy days here. After so much sun and bright blue skies, the cloudiness is a change in scenery and tone. My coworkers, who are Tucson natives, love monsoon season. I prefer the sun, but I see the beauty in the changing sky. The light and color, the swirling clouds. And somehow, sunsets are prettier when more clouds are in the sky.

Watching a recent storm from my balcony:

The sunset after a storm cleared:

The rain comes down hard here, but only lasts a few minutes. Some roads flood instantly. Here’s the street outside my workplace:

Lastly, monsoon season brings mosquitoes. (Yes, there are mosquitoes in Arizona. I’ve been duped.)