A Closet Scrapbooker

D.I.Y greeting cards, by yours truly. Hours and hours of cutting, glue gunning, mixing and matching funky paper, sorting orphan buttons and scraps of ribbon...who knew? I'm not a scrapbooker by any stretch of the imagination. I find it perfectly useful to store old photos in shoe boxes and new photos in digital iPhoto albums...and yet here I am home for the holidays playing arts and crafts in my mother's office all night. I cranked up Regina Spektor (Begin to Hope rocks my socks and if you can listen to "Us" from Soviet Kitsch without bobbing your head, you have no soul), grabbed a glue stick, and went to town. I have to admit that I do think some of these cards turned out pretty well. I've always enjoyed creating collage and mixed medium pieces, so I may have to suck it up and admit that there's a closet scrapbooker inside me just waiting for permission to break free.

Something about the mix of grandmother's couch flowers and punk polka dots is endearing to me.

I love the anarchy of three different prints and a ribbon that doesn't match any of them. "Anarchy," says the dork rockin' a glue gun and die cuts on a Saturday night.

I don't care where you're from, it does not get more scrapbooky than this card. But come on, tell me those colors aren't yum-my.

The colors and texture didn't turn out well in this photograph, but imagine this as a brown/rust/pink rose on antique parchment-like paper. It's so granny with the lace and buttons I can smell moth balls just looking at it.

ISBN ### What is your water saying?

Aesthetic Awakening