After the party

These photographs are the calm after the storm has passed. The quiet after the chaos.

When your child has a birthday, you want to take a moment. To pause, to remember: "this time last year, this time three years ago, this time 18 years ago…" I don't think the power of that day goes away for a parent, ever. Does it?

Because in that minute, the minute you are remembering, the world gained this new person. If that minute (and all the hard, gruelling, labour-of-love minutes that preceded it) hadn't happened, the universe would now have a completely different personality.

It would have a hole in it that could never be filled, and a regret that nobody could ever understand, and a loss that nobody would ever know how to grieve. The paths of every single person your child has ever met and will ever meet would have been altered, some of them subtly and some of them in extraordinary and powerful ways, but altered nevertheless.

That's the power of a birthday, when you are a parent.

Scout turned three on Tuesday, and I have been waiting for my own moment of reflection. Searching for it, even, in the frenetic, time-spinning events that have made up our hours and days of late. This is the first chance I've had to stop and think and remember, and now I find my thoughts and memories overpowered by my feelings, and I am without words.

"I love you," I tell her every night when I kiss her and put her into bed (and many times throughout the day). "I love you a million, billion, trillion." And she whispers, "To the moon and back?" "Yes," I tell her. "To the moon and back, and then more."

Every day since she was born, every, single, day, I have told her this: "I love you forever." It is because I believe that my love for her will transcend everything. EVERYTHING. Even if I die, my love is and will be stronger than my body. It is my most profound wish that neither of my children will ever live a second without love.

And that's the best I can do about taking a moment. Happy third birthday Scout!

Snail-mail vending machine

File this under fun but probably-impractical business ideas: I want to find myself a vintage, coin-operated vending machine, and fill it with beautiful stationery and snail-mail ephemera*.

Stuff you need if you want to send a letter on the go, or just feel suddenly inspired: airmail envelopes, beautiful short-run letterpress stationery, hand-painted cards by local artists, unique postcards, sealing wax and seals, and boxes of matches. Stamps of course, washi tape, pens, pencils, stickers, and all kinds of other snail-mail-esque goodies. Maybe some vintage postcards and vintage used stamps, and possibly even some good snail-mail related books.

I'd restock my vending machine regularly, changing up the stationery and card options so that passers-by could always find something new and beautiful to send to friends and lovers and pen-pals.

My vending machine would stand somewhere unexpected, like the street-art-covered wall of a laneway beside a cafe, or under the pavilion of a park, or inside an art gallery. It'd be pretty fun, don't you think?

* Inspired by this snail-mail vending machine, spotted at an airport (a much more sensible location, I admit) in Taiwan

Mail-art tips from Darren Di Lieto

It’s been Mail Central around here lately, and here are 11 of my latest creations. The whole house smells of matches and sealing wax and take it from me, that scent should be made into a perfume. It is SO good.

In the spirit of making pretty mail, I thought I’d share some tips for making successful (ie. “safe to travel through the post”) mail-art from Darren Di Lieto, founder of the international mail-art phenomenon, Mail Me Art. Darren was kind enough to share these tips with me when I interviewed him for a book I’m writing right now, celebrating the heroes of mail; and the unique, the quirky, the joyful and the unexpected sides of snail-mail. Consider this a book teaser. I hope to share it with you soon!

Here are Darren's tips:

* Keep it simple and don't be too precious! With mail art it's not an artwork until it's been delivered.

* Be proud of the work, but don't coddle it, wrapping it to protect it defeats the point.

* If you have to use glue you'll probably end up with half of your work missing by the time it reaches its destination. Also paper cut artwork will normally struggle to survive.

* Expect water based paints to run (our poor postman is testament to this as he ended up covered in white paint one rainy morning).

* But don't worry about rips and tears, it's mail art and the journey it goes on becomes part of the artwork, damage and all.

* Also prepare yourself for the fact that mail does go missing, so always take a photo or scan before you pop it in the postbox.

ps. If you want to ease your way into making mail-art, get along to the Wild About Melbourne craft party for Etsy this Friday night. I've created two envelope templates for the party, with mail-art designs drawn onto them. All you have to do is cut out and glue together the template, and fill an address into the already created "art." You can then colour or paint or decorate it any way you wish. More here.

DIY mail-art envelope templates

Would you like to make these envelopes to send to a friend? I have collaborated with Deanne Wild from Wild About Melbourne to create some easy-to-make mail-art envelope templates for the guests at her upcoming Etsy Craft Party on Friday.

The party theme is "paper taking shape," and all craft supplies will be provided. Deanne invited me to create a line-drawing for the event, given the growing trend for "adult colouring-in" as a fun craft activity. A couple of emails back and forth later, and we decided I'd provide an envelope template with a mail-art drawing for colouring-in or painting or collaging over or whatever the heck your craft-of-choice might be. You simply cut out the envelope shape (I also lined mine with a page from a botanical text-book to make it a bit more substantial), fill in the recipient's address, and go to town making it pretty!

If you'd like to try mail-art but you're not sure where to start, get on down to the Wild About Melbourne Etsy Craft Party in Thornbury THIS FRIDAY NIGHT. You can have a go at my mail-art templates (I made two because I wanted to give people a choice of styles), and a whole heap of other exciting craft projects, all in the company of a lovely group of like-minded people. Get more information here, and book your tickets (only $10) online here.

Monday morning pyjamas + links

Yesterday I didn’t get dressed and I didn’t leave the house. In fact I barely moved from room to room. Out of the four of us, Mr B was the only one to don “day clothes” as Scout calls them, or to walk out the front door (to get coffees in the morning and later, to get ingredients to cook dinner).

We are just back from a little mini-break in Warrnambool, where Mr B had a meeting on Friday, and Scout was so excited you’d swear we were going to Paris. The second she woke up on Thursday she demanded “Is this the day we go to Warrnambool?” from her cot, and practically vibrated through the rest of the day until it was time to leave.

We picked Mr B up from work and headed out into the night, Scout quivering and chattering and singing the ENTIRE TIME. I do not think she drew breath from Richmond until the moment we pulled up in front of the hotel overlooking the beach. And not even then. At one point she had me singing Christmas carols for her in the car, and then she treated us to a Christmas carol-esque rendition of Humpty Dumpty, as Ralph snored softly and Mr B peered over the steering wheel into driving rain in the dark, momentarily blinded every time a car came towards us.

We didn’t do all that much on our break, to be honest. It rained a lot of the time and, when it wasn’t raining, the sea wind was FIERCE. Ralph and I were both coming down with a bit of a cold, so we all took it easy and stayed as warm as we could, only venturing into the bracing air for short periods. But it was still lovely to get out of town, to explore (briefly) somewhere new, and to be together. The children were divine, beautifully behaved, and it must be wonderful to be of an age when calling room service and tasting Coco Pops for the first time can truly transport you.

On the down-side, I barely slept a wink while we were away, with all four of us crammed into a room, Ralph snoring through his cold, and moonbeams not-so-romantically piercing my eyelids from an un-dressed skylight. Then last night our neighbour hosted a party, and everyone is allowed to host parties and it was Saturday night and he’s a lovely, considerate neighbour, but last night when I so badly needed to sleep, I lay awake instead listening to a bizarre remix of Britney Spears singing “Oops I did it again” to a duf-duf beat pound from the courtyard just below our bedroom window, accompanied by the conversations and laughter and (as the night went on) singing of a big crowd of happy people.

By 1.30am when I hadn’t slept yet and was sick and tired of feeling sick and tired (and jealous of my neighbour and his guests and the carefree life I used to lead even though I wouldn’t change things - I really wouldn’t!), I came downstairs to the couch, further away from the party, to try once more for that elusive sleep. I found it at last, and grabbed about four hours before it was time to get up for the kids all over again.

Which is a long way to lead up to the not-particularly-interesting news that not surprisingly, I woke up this morning with my cold fully realised, feeling stuffy and crabby and woozy and lethargic. And now we finally get to the point, which is: I spent the entire day in my pyjamas. Blocked sinuses notwithstanding, it was actually a wonderful way to close out autumn, filled with nothing much except craft and cuddles and giggles and train sets and makeovers-by-toddlers and stories and love.

So here we are. Back to work today. I’ve been absent from this blog for a few weeks and I’ve been dying to tell you about all the creative projects on the go right now, but that will just have to wait until I have more energy to share. In the meantime, here are some cosy links to welcome Monday and winter.

* This woman braved sideways looks and snide remarks and publicly danced her way to a more “authentic” version of herself. Would you try it?

* Keep Cards are short-run cards designed by artists, so you can frame them and turn them into art

* They only have one childhood!

* Loving the house plant series that photographer Luisa Brimble has been sharing

* And this home "bursting with plants"

* How urban trees relate to income inequality... viewed from space

* An easy and impressive balloon centrepiece for a party

* A couple gets to age decades within hours, before one another's eyes. Unexpectedly moving.

* This was a trip down memory lane. I used to live just around the corner from Cat Alley, and would have to hold my dog on a VERY tight lead every time we ventured through there on our way to the park

* Email debt forgiveness day. I missed it this year, but I applaud the idea

* Just a fantastic post about coping with haters on the Internet (and elsewhere)

* Sail over here, oh bookshop-on-a-barge!

* There is such thing as a Jane Austen font, enabling you to type with her handwriting

Image credit: photo by David Mao, licensed under Creative Commons

19 cheap or free ways to practice kindness, randomly and intentionally

I've made a new thing. Do you remember the zine I made recently on snail-mail? I've been drawing and pasting again but this time, the zine is about kindness. Specifically about random acts of kindness, but also intentional acts of kindness.

I agree it's important to cultivate an attitude to life that leaves us open to performing random acts of kindness. To being open to opportunities when they present themselves, to do something good or nice or kind for others. But I also think it's equally important to be intentional about kindness. To deliberately plan - strategise even - to make the world a happier place, and spread kindness.

So this little zine is just a fun little book of ideas and inspiration for me, and maybe you would enjoy it too?

I'm going to make 10 copies to send to blog-readers. They are all hand measured and cut and pasted together, which makes them satisfyingly substantial to hold and read, but means that every copy takes me several hours to make. One of these days I'll get to a print shop that can correctly align front and back photocopying for me, and then I'll be able to make many more copies of both zines, and send them to you if you'd like them.

Naomi xo

Once upon a time, snail mail

A sample of some of the outgoing mail I've been sending lately. Making their way through the Deep, Dark Forest (aka the international postal system) are:

Little Red Riding Hood // Pinocchio // Rapunzel // Puss in Boots // Snow White // the Three Little Pigs (actually just one of them) // the Big Bad Wolf // the Princess and the Pea // the Goose that Laid the Golden Eggs

The Passion Planner (and other stories)

Good morning! This is my new diary. It's called a "Passion Planner" which is a dubious name for a fabulous concept. It bills itself as "the one place for all your thoughts," and also "the life coach that fits in your back pack."

The diary is filled with prompts and questions and lists and mind-maps to help you define the life you want and then get there, step by step. The idea is that you can manage your work tasks, your personal tasks, your creative tasks, and all the rest, all in the one place.

This is perfect for me because I'm trying to juggle so many things at once. I write freelance for a number of clients, so I have to keep all their deadlines and meetings and briefings and interviews etc under control. Then there are all the children's appointments, from daycare and music lessons to doctors' visits and vaccinations and play dates and parties. Mr B's work calendar, when it impacts on me because of meetings and missed meals and travel. And of course our own (limited but still it does exist) social life, and some big parties we are planning this year. On top of that, I have this blog and my snail mail and the book I'm illustrating and the books and zines I'm writing and several more dreams in the wings, and I want to keep on top of all of them but also be a little more strategic AND inspired about them. None of those needs and schedules exists in a vacuum, they all impact on one another, so a planner that can hold them all together seems, to me, genius.

I ordered my Passion Planner from here, and got the undated version (because hello May already?), but you can also get proper yearly Passion Planners, and in bigger sizes too if you want to scribble more.

How was your weekend? I know many people think Mother's Day is a commercial construct, but BOY I really enjoyed my day yesterday. Yesterday was like the poster child for everyone who says the Simple Things are the Best Things. Kisses from babies (the big, open-mouthed ones). "Letters" from toddlers. Toasted bagels with cream-cheese for breakfast. Warm salad of pearl couscous, chorizo and roasted vegetables for lunch. Paper-thin crepes rolled up with lemon and sugar for afternoon tea. (Are you beginning to detect a theme here?) Drawing pictures while watching old westerns on TV. Two children racing up and down the hallway, each pushing toy prams, laughing and squealing and yelling "We are going to the Lost City!" And affirmation. So much loving affirmation, from my family.

(Also both children ate all their vegetables and at least some of their tuna for dinner that night, by which time I was pretty much feeling like Mother of the Year.)

We are funny about presents in our house on "days" like this, and on birthdays, and anniversaries. Sometimes we give big, extravagant presents, sometimes we give a card and a kiss, or a meal out. (Sometimes we forget altogether, we are scatty like that). But that's because the love and affirmative words are given freely throughout the year. The gifts are big and extravagant when budgets and time and inspiration allow. They are smaller when budgets or time or lack-of-inspiration dictate. So nobody gets unwanted, pointless presents, only presents that truly mean something, both to the recipient AND the giver. I like it that way.

This year, despite me saying "It's too much," my family bought me not only a voucher for a massage and facial (oh! bliss!) but also a personal lesson from an artist on letterpress type and and line-art plates. And it is too much, really it is, but I've got to be honest, I can't wait to do this class. Do you want some letterpress mail from me? The deal is that if I enjoy it as much as we all THINK I will enjoy it, we will put our money-box savings into buying an antique letterpress at the end of the year. Now that's a generous family, don't you think?

How was your weekend?

The travelling post office

Night Mail is a 20-minute documentary on postal workers. On a train between England and Scotland, in the 1930s. Don't even pretend you're not rolling your eyes.

Essentially this “documentary” (which is more like a bunch of postal workers reenacting their nightly duties, badly and adorably) follows the mail-express, a fast-moving steam train that used to hurtle every night from London to Scotland (Glasgow, Edinburgh, Aberdeen).

Inside the train was a travelling post office. There were no passengers, but 40 postal workers would spend the night on the train, picking up, dropping off and sorting half a million letters.

They wouldn’t stop to make deliveries or pick-ups, instead relying on what seemed to me hilarious systems of dubious reliance.

FOR EXAMPLE... to make pick-ups, mail workers on the ground would attach post-bags to spring hooks and dangle them over the tracks: the impact of the train as it passed would knock them into special holding boxes in the carriages.

There is a cute and crazy moment in the film where they plan a drop-off, which again is basically to dangle the bags (tied on with STRING) outside the moving train, allowing the speed of impact to knock the bags into cages beside the tracks.

One of the postal workers asks “Now?” and the other says, “No, it’s two bridges and 45 beats yet.” And then they literally hang out the train-doors as they go under first one bridge then two, and then start counting the beats: clackety-clack – ONE – clackety-clack – TWO… and when they get to 45, out go the bags and WHACK, they are knocked into the waiting cages.

How’s that for scientific precision!

And yet with this seemingly-crazy system did the travelling post office manage to deliver half a million hand-sorted letters per night, every night, delivering 500 million letters to the people of England and Scotland, each year.

Lordy. With that amount of work, they absolutely deserved their own documentary!

Do you want to watch it? Ok I know. But if you DO, it's here:

What to know about more "movies about mail?" Here's a list I made for myself to watch a while back.

Image credit: this is a vintage image of the mail train in the USA, because I couldn't find a good one to use of the England-Scotland train, and screen grabs from the film weren't great quality. It has no known copyright restrictions, and the Smithsonian Institution Flickr page describes it as "A Railway Post Office clerk is photographed holding a mail pouch and leaning out of a Baltimore & Ohio railroad car next to the car's mail exchange arm, as if waiting to make a mail exchange."

What are the words to that song?

Let's talk about song lyrics, for a minute. Specifically, song lyrics that you get wrong, with somewhat hilarious consequences. I'll start.

1. In high school, I thought Madonna was singing "Dress you up in Milo" rather than "Dress you up in  my love." (Non-Aussie friends, Milo is a kind of chocolate drink powder that you mix with milk. It's a bit more crumbly and a lot more delicious than normal chocolate milk powder.) I thought it was particularly gross when she sang "I'm gonna dress you up in Milo / all over, all over / from your head down to your toes." I mean, how would you ever get that stuff OUT? (Don't answer that.)

2. Once my friend Rachael told me, her tone dripping with derision, that her little brother had thought John Travolta's lyrics in 'You're the One that I Want' included "I got shoes, they're multiplying." Picking up on Rachael's tone, I said "Pshaw, what an idiot," but that was just to save Rachael's feelings. Secretly, I was pretty sure Rachael's little brother was right. I mean, it made perfect sense! "I got shoes, they're multiplyin'" (because, you know, he was dancing SO FAST) "and I'm losing control" (well of course you would - if your feet were moving so fast they looked like they were multiplying, you probably WOULD lose control at some point. It's just physics, Rachael.)

3. When I went through my Jem phase about 10 years ago, I could have SWORN that after the chorus in 'Them,' some children started singing "Ooh Jackie Chan, dum-de-dum-dum-dum Jackie Chan." You know exactly the bit I mean, don't you. Don't you?

Ok your turn. What song lyrics do you get wrong?

ps. I am not alone. Behold!