Cathy Zielske's Blog

Inspired and a tad profane. (Emphasis on inspired.)

I wanted to share a website today that my friend Lee Currie shared with me over the weekend. The name of the site includes the f-word. I generally have a current blog policy to not use this word. While it may be a word I use in my personal life (and believe me, I've uttered a few in my day), I've never used it on this blog in an effort to not offend my readers.

This post may not be for you, if you're easily offended by language. But I hope you won't be, because there is a larger message at work here. Disclaimer over.

Good F#%@ing Design Advice (you can click on a link in the lower left of their main page to create a family-friendly—more or less—version) is the coolest web site I've come across in a long time. At first, when Lee sent me the link, I just looked at their store and thought, "Oh, that's cute. Cheeky, swears… racy humor for designers. Kinda cute."

Then I realized, "The product design is pretty tight."

Then I realized, "This site design is pretty tight, too."

Then I realized I loved it not just for the cheeky message, but for the perfect and copious use of Helvetica. And the color orange. And the white space.

Then I watched their video. 

And I realized: I love this for the message.

 

I love the idea of a passion project—what would you do if you could focus on what you were passionate about, first and foremost. And how would that spill over into everything else you did?

Think about that. How many of you got into crafting or scrapbooking because of a true passion for the creative process? How does the act of creating spill over into how you live your life every day?

It reminded me of the day last summer when I realized that my tagline of "Taking the 'Crap Out of Scrapbooking" was truly a message that I not only connected to but that I had consciously been cultivating for years. I remember feeling so, so inspired that day, as if my passion and my work melded together in that moment and I was suddenly aware of how fortunate I was to be able to do what I did for a living.

These guys are really thoughtful young designers. Their message is inspired. Hearing their process on this project, realizing this isn't just about using an f-bomb for shock value. Then watching them screen print by hand, the whole tactile expression of beautifully executed design… this entire video—as a designer myself, I just feel inspired.

I connected to it on so many levels. On one hand, in my professional life as a graphic designer, I try to bring real passion and expertise to my work, even though my work is not going to show up in any design annuals or awards shows. I care about quality work. I care about how well that headline is kerned. Or if things are lining up on the baseline. Or if that sentence ends in an orphan. I wish I knew web design so I could truly have a blog that reflected my design aesthetic.

I care about simplicity and elegance and delivering the message in a clear and concise manner.

Now take that into the scrapbooking world—a world in which let's face it, many designers would scoff and say, "Design has no place in scrapbooking,"—this too is also something I really care about. About showing people what principles of design look like when applied in a thoughtful and caring way. And showing people what elegance and simplicity can do on a craft-based level.

So I decided to print out and take their pledge. If you think about it, how universal is the potential application? How many of us, as we strive to earn our daily livings, find ourselves faced with doubt or fear? How many of us will give into not offering up the best of ourselves to the tasks at hand? I know that for me personally, that's never going to be okay.

I hope you get a chance to watch the video. Or poke around their site a bit.

I just wanted to share something this week that reminded me of how much I love what I do. And to remind me to trust in myself, engage and connect to the passion at hand.

F-bombs or not.

Oh yeah, and to look forward to the coffee I'll soon be drinking from my new mug.

 

The Internet is Amazing

Last Friday, a Facebook friend posted a link to a Ted talk by Sarah Kay. I've never heard of her, but I always give any Ted Talk link the benefit of the doubt, because let's be honest here, Ted Talks make quantum physics fascinating to the average person.

I was moved to tears by this Ted Talk. The poem she starts out with, called simply "B", blew my mind. Talk about the beauty and the power of words.

God, I love it when people share their gifts with the world. For all the people who spew their hatred and ignorance, there are so many more people who choose to share their love and hope. The Internet can be an amazing curator of such wonder.

 

You can buy her poem in a hardcover book on Amazon.

Everyone was wearing fingerless gloves

Note: the links in this post are not kid friendly, and possibly not every adult friendly. If you're squeamish about language in songs, don't click on the links. However, this post does include a story about a kid, who watches some non-kid friendly content in the name of humor. You have been warned.

If you're familiar with the guys of The Lonely Island, then the title of this blog post may just mean something to you.

We're fans of The Lonely Island in this house. True, some of their stuff is pretty raunchy. (Does anyone remember The Bing Bong Brothers?) But sometimes, a little raunch that is actually funny is good for you. I mean, come on, who didn't go around singing Captain Jack Sparrow after it aired on SNL?

Their latest video, Boombox, inspired Cole over the weekend to dress up for a birthday party he was attending, complete with fingerless gloves.

I think letting him listen to all that Green Day and Queen wasn't that bad for him afterall.

A is for Awesome

Girl rocks a camera and a scarf like nobody's business.

Just wanted to point that out today.

That is all.

I have just a little more to say

There's something about Apple from Clean & Simple Scrapbooking, 2005. Click on the image to see it larger in a new window.

Tuesday night the Zielske family went out to dinner at Famous Dave's barbecue. I was tired and a little cranky from my decision to start drinking decaf that very morning and I had zero ideas up my sleeve for dinner. I'd been working furiously all day, trying to get back into the groove of class development for Big Picture Classes. I was spent and wanted food followed immediately by rest.

We returned home just in time for the beginning of the Boot Camp episodes on the X Factor. It was my one night of the week without sports games, practices or play rehearsals. I happily hunkered down for some serious couch time.

Then Aidan came downstairs with a confused look on her face, and she asked, "Did something happen to Steve Jobs?"

The next thing I know, I'm staring at the Apple home page, and the tears just came, surprising me with their intensity. I was overwhelmed with sadness.

You see, I'm a Mac.

It started in the computer lab at the University of Texas–Arlington in 1987 when these adorable little beige boxes starting popping up as we started learning how to make resumes and cover letters.

It continued in 1988 when working at my first corporate job, the company announced, to much grumbling from the old school, the advertising department was "Going Mac."

And still it continued in 1990 when I landed my first job in Minnesota, which evolved into my first design job. We published a monthly corporate magazine on a Mac Classic with a 9-inch screen featuring New Baskerville type. I'd never felt so much love for any inanimate object in my entire life.

The years passed. I oversaw upgrade after upgrade in my corporate realm. I bought my first Mac for home in 1992—a used Mac IIsi with no internal hard drive. I remember distinctly freaking out beyond measure when I turned in on only to see the dreaded Sad Mac.

A Quadra 700 followed that. Then an iBook. Next, a G3. Then a MacBook Pro. A G4. Another MacBook. And finally, my big silver dual core, 8 gig MacPro.

Then there were the iPods, Nanos and Shuffles. Of course there was the iPad, and finally, an iPhone.

Every single cent I've spent adding this technology to my life has paid me back and then some. From giving me the tools to be an effective, creative graphic designer to making my runs less tedious via my hot pink Nano, simply stated, Apple has contributed to both my professional success and personal happiness.

But it's not just the life improvements. It's more than that. It's the personalization. It's the beautiful design. It's the elegance and beauty and simplicity. It's the chungggg when you turn it on. And it's the unshakable feeling of belonging to something really, really special.

What Steve Job helped to create has been a critical part of my life—the part where I got to try and grow up and be somebody. What he created helped to change and shape what I was able to do with my life.

Apple is part of what made me who I am today.

That would explain the tears and the sadness.

That reminds me of how grateful I am.

So thank you Steve Jobs, wherever you are.

 

 

 

 

What she has meant to me.

Today is finally here. The last official broadcast of the Oprah show. When it was announced late last summer, it seemed like a day that was eons away in the distant future in some alternate universe. In short: this day was a hard one to really believe was a-comin'.

Some people love Oprah. Some people couldn't give a rat's tushka about her.

I belong squarely in the Love Her category and I'm going to try my best to tell you why.

I turned 20 in 1986, the same year that Oprah's show went on the air nationally. At 20, I was officially an adult (or so I liked to believe.) As such, I did a very non-adult thing and I moved back into my parent's new home in Texas following a family relocation from Seattle in order to finish my college education. For the first time in my life I had a television in my room—with cable! My favorite show was thirtysomething and I watched the Tonight Show with Johnny Carson every single night before going to bed.

In 1986 and for many years to come, talk shows were sensational, sometimes a wee bit trashy and usually good for an hour of entertainment when I needed a break from studying for an upper level communications final. I also didn't know a lot of people in Texas, and I'm not ashamed to say Oprah kept me company during times I wished I had someone to hang out with.

I'd like to say that I remember each and every Oprah show I ever saw, but I don't. I remember thinking she was a breath of fresh air in the milk toast television landscape. I loved that she was different. At the time, I felt like a different person myself, one that was trying so hard to figure out who I was and who I wasn't and where I fit into this world at large.

I do recall, however, one Oprah show, and for the life of me, I can't find a link to it, but it was a show on racism, where they had a group of African American men and caucasian men in a room for a really frank and sometimes shocking discussion on race in America. I remember very clearly it being one of the first times (and Lord, how it wouldn't be the last) that I was absolutely glued to the discussion, with tears streaming down my cheeks as I felt the raw emotion and the pain in that room behind my television screen.

Oprah made me think about things I hadn't thought about before. She made me empathize on a regular basis. She made me cry during non-prime time television.

In 1998, after two years of post-baby weight gain that had gotten completely out of hand, I bought her book "Make the Connection" and did exactly what she and Bob Greene told me to do. There is a list of 10 things to live by in that book, and live by them to the letter I did. In a year, I lost 40 pounds and returned to my fighting weight. Of course, I also decided to pick up smoking again, and kissed the exercise component goodbye.  But during that glorious year, I worshipped at the fitness altar of Oprah daily, believing, truly believing that if I did what she did, everything was going to be okay.

When Oprah failed at her own fitness goals, I shared in that too. As I started to smoke again, I remember feeling like a failure as well. And when I quit a second time, and the weight came back on, I had her right there with me, realizing that some things in life are hard for just about everybody.

When Oprah made the decision to use her show as a platform for good, I cheered. She rose above the sea of "schlalk" shows and elevated the medium to a whole different level. Sure, she had her fair share of makeover shows and related fluff, but by and large, when I watched her show I learned something new, or I at least thought about it in a different way.

Oprah even got me into trouble at work from time to time. I remember once in 1998, Madonna was slated to be on as a guest. It was right around the time of her Ray of Light album, which I adored, and I really wanted to get home early to watch the show.

I was working as a designer for the Science Museum of Minnesota at the time, and my day ended at 4 p.m., right when Oprah's show comes on the air. Because I had no concept of how to use a VCR, I said to my boss at about 3:40, "Can I head out a little early? Madonna's going to be on Oprah and I really want to see it," to which he replied, in a very gruff and pissed off voice, "So now we have to compete with Oprah?"

Needless to stay I didn't get home in time to see the whole thing, and everyone knows the first 15 minutes are critical and set the tone for every show.

In the last year, I've watched more Oprah than I probably have in all the past year's combined. Mostly because I don't work as many hours as I used to, and also because I've been keenly aware that this afternoon television respite that has on occasion elevated me to the highest levels of human compassion is soon to be filed under the No More category.

People can say what they want about Oprah. That she's arrogant, that she's out of touch, that she's just a bit too big for her britches, but I will tell you this: anyone who tries to put something positive out into the world is to be admired in my book.

Anyone who has made a person think differently about even the smallest of things has made a tremendous impact in the world.

She has made me think differently and for that I am grateful and I will miss her daily show.

I still think she should have focused a bit more on scrapbooking, but what the heck. At least Lisa Bearnson got on there once.

God speed, Oprah Winfrey.

With much gratitude and love,

Cathy

Theater People

Aidan and Cole just finished up working in a fantastic local production of "The Wiz." This was Aidan's 3rd production with the Young Artists Initiative and Cole's first. Having never had the guts to perform, let alone even audition for plays when I was growing up, I'm amazed at their ability to get up and do this sort of thing.

A little side story for you: in 1993 Dan and I moved into the house we presently occupy. We had no kids, very little money, and both worked many hours a week. At the time, we had a friend working on a small independent film who was scouting locations to shoot specific scenes. They wanted an old house that looked a bit outdated and old fashioned. Ours fit the bill perfectly.

I was completely unprepared for what happens when a film crew, however small, moves in and takes over for a few days. Our property was crawlng with people, lights, cameras and endless power cords. They moved all of our furniture into one part of the house to make way for the scenes they were going to shoot. In short, it was a small slice of domestic chaos.

Because we were relatively newcomers to the neighborhood, it caused quite a stir. What are they doing over there? The filming came and went and we settled into a St. Paul neighborhood to continue building our lives there.

It was only a few years later when talking with one of our neighbors about something (and to this day I can't for the life of me remember what it was), when he said, "Well, you guys know what I'm talking about, you're theater people."

Since that day, it's been a little joke between me and Dan. We're theater people. It's our standard response to everything.

At least we can say that our kids are.

 

 

 

Sgt. Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band…in Lego, as interpreted by Cole

Another day, another Lego creation.

As I was looking a bit closer, I wondered, is the dude in the back row center supposed to be the Walrus? Or that creepy Davy Jones dude in Pirates of the Caribbean?

 

Because I don't think he made the final cover of the album. I'm just sayin'...

Never mind that. We'll always have Woodstock.

 

Gotta love Jimi Hendrix in Lego. Lefty guitar and all. My boy? He's nothing if not big on historical accuracy.

Just ask the Beatles at Shea Stadium.

We won't bring up the fact that Paul's Hofner bass is supposed to be a lefty, and George is supposed to be a righty.

I think the fact that he printed and trimmed out a Hofner is the Just Pass Go and Collect $200 here. Am I right?

Details. Like I said.

Love this kid.

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Speaking of this kid, this past September, arsonists burned down parts of his school's playground. Cole attends an inner city public montessori school and the school had spent years raising funds to build the playground. This unconscionable crime was committed by 8 to 12 year olds.

 

The playground is now completely closed, and will remain so until a new one is built. Needless to say, the parents and students are very sad about this loss.

However, from 8 a.m. today through 8 a.m. tomorrow, Cole's school is hosting a Give to the Max day, where every donation goes 100 percent to rebuilding the playground, courtesy of GiveMN.org and its sister site Razoo.com. Every donation made during the next 24 hours will receive a portion of a $500,000 match and GiveMN partners are paying for the online transaction costs as well.

I have already hit you guys with donation requests for charity:water, and I thank you for hearing me out. No pressure from me. I simply couldn't as a concerned parent who truly loves my child's school not share this fundraiser with you.

If you are interested in learning more, every small bit helps, and 100 percent of your donation goes to rebuild the playground. Click here for details. Tell 'em Cole sent you and thanks for reading.

Or, you can always watch the segment Cole and Aidan made over the weekend. Together they wrote it, filmed it and produced it. Very proud of these kids. Very proud. Our local newstation KSTP Channel 5 even ran a bit of their video on last night's news. The news anchor said, "This kid's got a future in broadcasting." Amen, brother. Amen.

There's creativity in them there genes

Every year, my father-in-law grows pumpkins, and as they're just starting to form, he carves the names of each of his grandchildren into the individual pumpkins. Some years they work brilliantly, and some years they don't. This year, Aidan and Cole's most definitely did.

When the kids were smaller, he would hide their pumpkins down on the farm where he and my mother-in-law live in Southern Minnesota. We'd bundle them up and send them out into the fields to choose a pumpkin to pick. It was pretty magical the first time, when they got out there only to find pumpkins with their names on it. 

 

{Aidan in the meadow at the farm, finding her first pumpkin, at age 2}

Speaking of things that have gone, and things that are here, I'm so happy that Papa still makes the pumpkins for my now 10- and 13-year-old kids.

I can guarantee you when they walk through the door after school the magic of seeing their names will still remind them not only of what an awesome and creative grandpa they have, but of how much they are loved.

And the shrunken head apple faces he made aren't too shabby either:

 

I'm posting a giveaway tomorrow, so check back! I wanted to wish all of you a safe and happy Halloween a bit early.

And thank YOU Papa, for such an enduring and endearing tradition.

This is so cool and something that I hope goes all viral

A few years back, i read an amazing book, as did a lot of scrapbookers: Encyclopedia of an Ordinary Life. It inspired me in so many ways, as a woman with a voice and a story. I even made a class about it for CKU.

I just got an email from the wonderful author, Amy Krouse Rosenthal, (who I've never met but I think I would like very much in person) and she sent me a link to the following. Please watch, enjoy, and think about participating. When I get home from Phoenix, I know that I'm going to participate in some way shape or form.