To Hear is to Have Heart

A few months ago, now, I received a Valentine’s Day card from two of my dearest friends. On the envelope, underneath my name, read “The Queen of Hearts.” I was gleeful. But as I looked at the word, “hearts”, I noticed another word – “hear.” In fact “hear” is the main part of the word “heart.”

I do this often. I’ll use a word, or rather seriously look at a word I’ve used thousands of times, and see another word at it’s root. In some cases, I’ve done this with someone’s name – where I’ll see a person’s name in a word and let them know, “hey, have you ever noticed that you’re name is in the word “x?” I find delight in this. Mostly because language is shaped by how people use it. It may have hundreds of years of history and usage, but it is ever evolving and changing as humans are too.

It is shocking to me that it has taken me nine years to figure this out. I cannot recall my use of the word heart prior to 2012, but that fall/winter, as I traveled around Japan, and noticed hearts everywhere I went, the word became part of my everyday vocabulary.

Back in 2021, though, as I began to explore this new finding, I started to pull apart both words – heart and hear. According to Webster’s II New Riverside Dictionary Revised Edition, Office Edition:

hear (hir) v. heard (hurd), hear-ing. 1. To perceive by ear. 2. To listen to with careful attention. 3. To get as information by hearing. 4. To listen to in order to examine officially or formally, as in a court of law. — hear’er n.

heart (hart) n. 1. The hollow, muscular, organ in vertebrates that receives blood from the veins and pumps it into the arteries by regular, rhythmic contraction. 2. The heart considered as an emotional center, as: a. Mood or disposition. b. Compassion : concern. c. Affection : love. d. Resolute courage. 3. The most central and essential part : basis <the heart of the controversy> 4. a. Any of a suit of playing cards marked with a conventionalized red heart-shaped design. b. hearts (sing. in number). A card game in which the object is either to avoid hearts when taking tricks or to take all the hearts. * syns: CORE, ESSENCE< GIST< KERNEL, MARROW, MEAT, NITTY-GRITTY, NUB, PITH, QUINTESSENCE, ROOT, SOUL, STUFF– by heart. By memory <learned it by heart> — with all (one’s) heart. 1. With great sincerity or devotion. 2. Very willingly.

(I apologize to everyone as I’m not even sure how to add the proper details as they do in dictionaries in what I’ve typed about above. Don’t judge me!)

Upon first glance both definitions seem completely unrelated. But they are not! Here’s why: to hear is to listen with careful attention, while the heart is an organ that receives information (ie., blood) by “regular, rhythmic contraction.”

In other words, the heart is a musical instrument that using rhythm, communicates throughout the body, by way of veins and arteries, the life saving, and extremely necessary blood, it needs to move forward and live. To hear is to be able to pick up the regular, and irregular, rhythms in our external and internal spaces. We may not hear our hearts beating, but we use our ability to hear to protect our heart, and therefore our bodies throughout every moment breathe courses through our lives.

Which brings me to wondering, why is it that we opt not to listen?

Don’t get me wrong, I am one of those people that usually needs to stop myself to listen to someone else. That will stop myself mid-interruption and say, “sorry, continue.” I know my brain is racing to find a response rather than listen to the other person. I’m actively working to stop this habit. I give extra credit to “The Listening Path,” by Julia Cameron that I read earlier this year.

Could our inability to listen be rooted in our inability to love? Our inability to see the constant love around us? The inability, even, to love ourselves?

I have been pondering love and trust since just before my 40th birthday last year. I’ve discovered the following gems:

*To trust one’s self, one must listen

*To love is to trust one’s self

*To love is to truly listen to your intuition, gut, and body as it speaks in various ways

*To actively listen to someone is to show an act of love

*To actively listen to someone and pick up on their energy is to also a sign of your own emotional intelligence

*Both, love and trust, require patience, compassion, and continuing practice

We all know the age old adages, “listen to your heart,” or “follow your heart,” but what if you aren’t willing to listen (aka, “can’t?”) to your heart? What if you’re heart isn’t open? How can you follow your heart if you can’t hear what it is telling you? More importantly, how can you claim heart (love), if you’re not listening?

I don’t have an answer for you. We have both – the power to hear and a heart pumping in our body. Whether our hearing is damaged or perfect; whether our heart has stints or none; at any point, we can decide to care for each by connecting the two and becoming better not just toward ourselves, but to everyone we come into communication.

What might you do to listen better? How might you practice listening to your heart so you can hear someone else’s heart and correspond?

If you’re looking for a quick suggestion – grab a notebook and pen and do some writing. Or grab a copy of Julia Cameron’s “The Writing Path” and start reading and writing. You’ll be glad you started.

Where I Stand in 2020

I am Black American. I am also of Honduran and French ancestry. It’s not that complicated, but to make it super simple, a mixed-race man (American Black & French) met and married a Honduran woman and they had three mixed-race American children. I am one of them.

The parts of me that are Honduran and French, I am quite proud. However, I don’t throw them in to negate my Blackness. I am Black. My Dad was a Black man. My paternal grandfather was a black man. I come from a lineage of people who crossed the Atlantic Ocean in bondage from West Africa to the shores of what is known as America. They ended up in South Carolina and worked for a slave owner with the last name Stroman. I am a Stroman because my history was “owned.”

To say that I understand my place in America would be a lie. Because I don’t. I just know that I was born in America and I am an American. Whatever culture is American is my culture. When I travel the world, I travel as an American with all the baggage that comes along.

However, to be Sara is to be bold. I am hardly quiet. I grew up with cousins both Black and Latinx; they are all shades of the spectrum – white to black. I can dance Salsa and Merengue. I love a delicious hot corn tortilla with melting butter. Cafe Bustelo is one of my favorite lightening rod coffees on the market and I swear, my Dominican aunt makes it the best! Growing up in my family never felt weird – I never felt different or that I didn’t belong but that’s because we’re all so mixed.

In all of that, I can write a book about my internal and external experiences with anti-Blackness. If I were to write that book, I might mention that I’ve never felt like I truly belonged. That I hated being Black in my youth. That I struggled with my hair and body changing and becoming less and less like those I saw on television shows I watched. I might include that I never really thought I was pretty growing up because I wasn’t completely White. I would even share that I wanted more so to be French than anything else. What all of this would tell you is that Colonialism and anti-Blackness did its job well.

In that hypothetical book, I might also tell you that as a child, I longed to roam – I wanted to live with Native Americans and travel with the Roma people. I have spent 33 of my almost-40 years on this planet questioning things and myself, being critical, and making my own decisions. I am grateful that my parents allowed this – they allowed me to fight back, although respectfully.

Anyhow, let us get back to the present – Five/six weeks ago, I was already reeling from the murder of Ahmaud Abery. In fact, I laced up my sneakers and went for a run/walk in his honor. In my late 20s and early 30s, I ran four marathons and in all the training and races, I never once feared for my life. I am aware of the freedoms I have always had and still have.

And then came Breonna Taylor and George Floyd. The entire story behind Breonna Taylor is shocking, maddening, and nonsensical. I mean, why are cops allowed to raid a home without any sort of check? Why hasn’t any real action been taken against the murderers of Breonna?

As for George Floyd. His death shocked us all, but it is no less shocking than the deaths of the others – Trayvon, Philando, Sandra, Tamir…the list goes on and on. That his death came only after a few hours after the news of a White woman who called the cops on a Black man in a NYC park because he asked her to leash her dog, as per the rules of the park, unleashed the rage.

As can be imagined, America went up in flames. Note that I am a fire sign and I have deep love for all things fire. The flames felt comfortable to me. It was time for fire to turn it all to ash. For America to rise like the mythical phoenix with more sense.

When asked by friends how I felt about the rioting, (although lets be clear, while rioting did happen, most protests and marches have been peaceful with the exception of police instigation), I said what I firmly believe – my ancestors built America and we can burn it down just as well, now. I mean that to my core. White America may wield power, but you can’t tell a group of disenfranchised Americans what they can and can’t do. Hell, you can’t tell people in general what they can and can’t do! All you can do, is take a step back and understand what scares you the most. I can bet on any given day, it’s the loss of power that includes economic factors – your house, your business and livelihood, and your sense of security. Note that I did not say freedom, because as long as one group of Americans/people is not free, none of us are free.

I’m getting pretty political already here and I’m sure many of you might not want to read political words. I get it, this is a stationery blog and we are overwhelmed and exhausted – Black people especially. We had to deal with the fear of COVID, which still looms and is making its way around the world, and now the reality of our humanity. Both issues are linked. Both issues impact us all. Both issues need honest and big-picture thinking if we’re going to get a handle on them.

In my mind, none of this is difficult. You simply start treating people the way you want to be treated, you know…the golden rule. Once you remove all the barriers within yourself, you can start releasing all of the barriers you place on other people – of all religions, cultures, skin colors, philosophies, etc.

However, we are not there yet. And so people have taken to the streets. And businesses and corporations have taken to making statements. White Americans have taken to reading books and trying to figure out how they can make changes.

My only real suggestion is that you actively stand up for your beliefs. My best advice is that all individuals looking for change find the “courage” to look inside themselves and figure out what they need to do to stand for what they believe.

It is incredibly easy to say you don’t believe in police brutality, but what is the other side of that? What do you believe when it comes to policing systems? You may say you believe in integrated schools, but what school does your kid(s) attend? How can you make schools better? You may believe in equal housing, but what are you doing to help make sure that housing rates stay even so that the homeless rates do not continue to rise?

The questions continue. And the answers are only answerable by you. Based on your beliefs, not mine. To all my White friends asking me about my beliefs, you don’t need my beliefs, you need yours. Who are you? Not as a White person, but as a human? As much as I’d love to convince you that our beliefs should be the same, I know that is not completely possible and I don’t want a mini-me.

So where does this leave me as a Black American?

With feelings of love, after a long few weeks of rage and fire. The rage and fire are still here, but they’re pushing up smaller islands that can be a part of the greater change I believe is possible. As much as I want to protest, I believe I can be a better advocate with words. And with my stationery business. (See, we’ve come full circle!) And I’m going to finally throw myself back into local level politics.

This series on being a Black American will continue. I plan over the next few weeks to write more about experiences and projects I’m working on. I intend to finally write about the road trip my then 16-year-old nephew and I took in 2018 that took us through the South on a tour of Civil Rights, Civil War, and Slavery history.

I also intend to start a series on political letter writing. As well as creating products that encourage writing our feelings to each other, so we may heal individually and collectively as a society.

I’m not going to ask you to purchase something so a donation can be made – I have subscribed to that in the past, but I think money speaks volumes. What do you believe about money? How can you put that into spending in a way that aligns with your beliefs without it also being an easy way out?

I’m going to ask that you take this journey with me. Equity and racial justice are one of the three issues I committed S2 Stationery & Design to earlier this year and I’m going to see it through. Maybe through this journey, we’ll reach an understanding that helps create the change we envision together and can believe in, too, where we can stand together on equal footing as Americans.

De”love”ry and De”live”ry in Practice

Quote used by permission from the song “Everything Touches Everything” by the band These United States (TUS).

This idea of “deLOVEry” has been simmering since last year. As someone who probably peaked as a blog writer in her 20s, sitting down to blog, (let alone write, one of my absolute favorite things), seems foreign and out of my element.  Alas though, the past week of social isolation has left an ache to write and so here we go. Buckle up, this is going to be a doozy of a post.

Why “deLOVEry”?

I happened upon the word “delovery” quite accidentally: at a job, where I would have to create a line to charge people who didn’t meet the delivery minimum on their order. It pained me to do this. And it drove my warehouse manager and other company leaders crazy that we would deliver $30 orders sometimes. I fought it until I couldn’t fight it anymore. Or rather, until they just automatically added the fee on orders under $100.

Somewhere between Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays, I noticed something when I went to enter “delivery” charges to invoices. Instead of writing “delivery,” I would type “delovery” and then a popup asking if I needed to create a new code appeared. I would hit no, go back to the window, and retype the code. This happened consistently for weeks before it dawned on me to reach out to a dear friend of mine, the man who wrote a book on romance in business appropriately titled, “The Business Romantic,” and ask him for feedback.

Initially, I thought we might collaborate or something along those lines, but he directed me to write a blog and to “see what comes of it.”  Now several years later, here we are.

Here is what I know about “Delivery” and “Delovery” as two words:

1. Delivery is an actual word. According to the Webster’s New World Dictionary that sits on my desk: “delivery – a delivering or something delivered.”

According to Oxford English Dictionary: “The action of delivering letters, parcels, or goods; An item or items delivered on a particular occasion; The process of giving birth; An act of throwing, bowling, or kicking a ball, especially a cricket ball; The manner or style of giving a speech; The acknowledgement by the maker of a deed that they intend to be bound by it.”

2. Delovery is something I came up with on my own with no prior knowledge of the word. (You should know that a google search shows results of a custom gift delivery service in CA with the name delovery. Clearly, others have had this idea. But I promise, they were not influences.)

If I had to define the word it would be the following: Delovery – the act of deliverance with intention. To create something beautiful and with sincerity. Self-expression with only the thought of beautiful sentiment.  An action that leaves the lingering feeling(s) of compassion, acceptance, and empowerment to the receiving party(ies). A lack of judgement; an abundance of generosity by the gifter/giver.

What does this all mean?

Well nothing much more than something personal – “delovery” is actually my personal word of the year – as a human, friend, customer, business owner, and especially, as a communicator – and it’s something I want to practice in my life – both professionally and personally.

I have since the 2016 election, been in a state of anger. If I’m brutally honest, I’ve been angry since December 2, 2014, when my heart was broken. That anger has swirled and swirled through the years, election, and other hurt and catastrophes since. My level of patience has dwindled. Most days it is nonexistent. I have no patience for people who want to give me opinions on concerns that aren’t their own – Anyone who can justify inhumane treatment, but claim heart at the same time, is on the wrong side of justice, humanity, and relationship. There is no question about this in my mind; all of our systems are wrong. All of them. And they all start with our own hearts. Our own anger. Our own fears from within.

In 2018, I embarked on a journey. In the way that Spirit works, I found and connected with a woman I had wanted to learn more from after meeting almost 10 years prior. I applied for her apprentice program at an herbalism apothecary in Brooklyn. I got in and the healing began.

I cannot express how cathartic crying is to the soul. Or how important acknowledging our past pain so we can move forward. We owe it to ourselves to move forward. As a matter of fact, my plant ally, Hawthorn, is a plant known for it’s heart healing properties and benefits. I reap her benefits every day that I drink teas or syrups with hawthorn. Sometimes I reap her benefits even from just smelling her – the hawthorn berry scent is intoxicating.

And so “delovery” returns.

We can only deliver on things when there is love. Without love, delivery is nothing more than a transaction of goods. A slightly disjointed and overthought concept of tit-for-tat:  “You ordered this, so I must deliver this good.” (Imagine a robot voice saying that.) “You asked me for this thing, so I must return that favor.”

At best, delivery is a concept of “must.” When you add money into the mix, expectation is high. It always is. In the case of the job that brought this thought on: “you didn’t order enough product, you must pay for that.”

And how do you deliver to yourself? How do you deliver compassion to yourself so that you can deliver more than a simple transaction? How can you bring “delovery” into your core practice?

See, delivery and “delovery” work in tandem. You can’t deliver without love and most people do not love without some form of delivery. To share your heart is to act – to deliver – in most cases, you’re presenting something (art, yourself, passion, food, (insert noun here) of yourself to people you know and don’t know. To delover rather than just deliver is courageous.

Adding “delovery” into my life means recognizing, accepting, and healing a lot about myself both personally and professionally. It also includes acknowledging all the ways I deliver without love: for example, when I’m working creatively on a project that does not align with my personal goals, or doing something to get it done – I’ve had many projects where I just could not wait to get it complete to move on to something else. Enough with this!  On a personal note, adding “delovery” stops me from agreeing to do something I have no interest in doing, even if with people (persons) I love, or pushing through something even when exhausted. (I have done this last bit a lot in my life.)

When I started writing this post several years ago now, I had no clue that I’d publish this during the second week of self isolation during a pandemic. I had no inkling that I’d be practicing the idea of “delovery” over delivery, or with delivery, every day.  That napping sometimes twice a day would be an act of “delovery;” or that I’d go about leaving large tips for people in the food industry that have fed me because they’re hurting to the point of nonexistence. Mind you, I always tip, but I’m sure that every dollar made in these uncertain times is already accounted for – rent, salary, food expenses, etc.  An extra tip is not just a sense of appreciation, but of care – it says, you showed up and I’m so grateful.

This message of “delovery”/delivery is one that seems slated for this moment. Your delivery in the things that matter now, is rooted in your “delovery” of the present. Staying inside to avoid getting others sick is a commitment to “delovery”/delivery – you’re delivering something of yourself for a greater sense of love. Tip extra, stay home, cook more meals for yourself, help your neighbors with 6ft of space between you, sleep more, check in on your loved ones, write a letter or a few (more on that soon!), and in a few days/weeks/months, we’ll come out stronger as more deeply understood individuals, but also Americans who can turn the tide on our current issues with a bit more “delovery” to guide us in delivery practice.

 

Reflecting on Scissors – My Mom’s Number One Tool

Everyone says their Mom is the best. I tend to believe it. Every Mom is different in their own way and therefore loved as the best. It’s hard to refute these claims.

I have known many Moms.

I have been lucky and fortunate in my 37 years to call many women “mom.” This is not out of disrespect toward my mom, but instead out of respect for the women who have welcomed me in their homes, fed me, allowed me to rest, and nourished my soul at times when I was separate from my mom. I have friends who call my Mom their mom, too. It’s a loving endearment, and one that I am glad to be part of – this circle of women.

I am not a mom. I am an awesome aunt, if I do say so myself. But I’ve been a babysitter and caretaker of many children since the ripe age of 14. I have watched those moms care for their children and have helped care for them too. I don’t think I would be so good with children if I had never experienced the love of women who have cared for me as family and as friends.

Every Mother’s Day, I honor all of us who help nurture children – teachers, doctors, babysitters, and yes, Moms. The women who carry us and raise us and allow us to go out into this world as strong and courageous individuals. At least that’s how my mom raised me.

Which leads me to scissors. As a culture, we discuss scissors as something we use to cut things out – to remove people from our lives, as one popular meme that gets shared on Instagram regularly declares – but scissors in my family are not meant to cut things out as a final act. Scissors are a step in the process of creating – of bringing something new into life.

In my mom’s hands, scissors cut out patterns and fabrics that became dresses and outfits I wore throughout my youth and young adult years. My mom still makes me clothing by the way, most recently an outfit I wore to a good friend’s wedding on New Years Eve 2017. Scissors have always been a tool my mom used to wield her creative genius – her fashion passion – her ability to take a textile and bring to life clothing someone would want to wear, and in many cases be asked where you bought the outfit.

In my youth, I had no regard for my mother’s scissors. I didn’t understand why she had so many pairs and inevitably took every single pair and cut paper with them. I would hear my mom scream from the basement of kitchen, “who touched my scissors?!” Of course she knew it was me; I was the only one in the house competing for creative action – she sewed and I played with paper, or cooked things like pizza from scratch, or attempted to sew and failed miserably. Yet, I didn’t stop. I would see a pair of scissors new to my eyes and grab them and work them until dull and no longer usable to my mom.

It is now, as a 37-year-old, that I understand my mother’s absolute need for scissors that are not dull and work for her art. As a stationery maker and paper artist, I have many pairs of scissors, but only one of them I use to cut out lushly textured handmade papers from around the world. That pair has a ribbon tied to it for easy finding, but also with ladybugs, a symbol of my deceased paternal grandmother.

Wielding my scissors, I’m out to create as well – to make something beautiful from what was cut – to become part of a new memory; a new piece to delight and share. I learned this from my mom and it may be one of the best lessons she’s taught me – do not just cut, cut and create.

Every time I pick up my scissors, I think about my mom. I chuckle because I remember the battle of scissors and how difficult it must have been to have had me as a child at times.

I love my mom so much. I think of her as the best. (If you ate her food, you might too!) She’s incredibly warm and kind. She’s really the best thing from Honduras. And she’s my mom, but I share her with my two brothers and all the people who meet her and love her. I’m thankful every day that she has been part of my journey for 37 years and that she taught me so much about the creative process, as well as the importance of a good pair of sharp scissors.

Happy Mother’s Day to all the moms out there!

On the Search for Failure

I’ve determined, after seven years, that I’m on the search for failure.

I’m also on the search for success. Grand success. Maybe not the kind of success that allows me fancy cars and houses across the globe, but success that allows me the items I desire: helping others; living comfortably, without worrying about paying bills, or deciding if buying underwear is more of a priority than groceries, as an example; being able to help my family reach that same level of comfortable; traveling when I want and to where ever I want; less stress and more health.

No where in there am I striving to amass a great wealth. I do want to be secure for my future, should I be fortunate to live to my 99th birthday, but again, I want the security in the points above.

For around a month or so, I’ve mentioned closing the custom & wedding side of S2 Stationery and Design. And I have. October 1st, closed that door. And I’m glad it has been closed. It’s left me with time to really focus on the things I want to focus on and most importantly plan for the ways I want to grow S2.

I’m no where near complete on my goals. They’re evolving and every time I write one down, another comes to me later. Not to mention, I have other things that pop up and show up and steer my path a different way, which I know shifts my goals a bit more.

This past weekend, I found myself discussing with very good friends my goals for both my business and personal life. We discussed pregnancy and relationships. We discussed it all honestly. What sticks from the two conversations was the statement I said several times in both:

I’m never going to be happy until I actually fail. Until, I can say, I did the best I could with the stationery and I failed and it’s time for me to be an adult and stop following this dream.

Chances are, I’m not going to fail. I know in my heart that what I’m doing is what I’m suppose to be doing. I know it’s hard to explain and for those who aren’t like-minded to understand or even begin to fathom, but I’m not going to fail. Mostly because I don’t see failing as a bad thing. I think even in the things that don’t go right, or that crash and burn, or realize that something I felt so strongly about doesn’t work any more and needs to be revamped or cancelled or changed, there is opportunity. There is growth. This is the natural flow of life.

I’m sure I will fail in little ways as this dream continues, but I wouldn’t quite say that this journey has been a failure thus far.

It is this reason that I struggle now. That I’ve been struggling for the past three years since returning from Japan. It is why, I’ve allowed myself to fall into this abyss of uncertainty and comfortable, yet uncomfortable, discomfort while working a job I don’t like and going through the motions of living a life that isn’t doing anything for me or my goals.

I have good friends at my job, I have made great connections and I’ve allowed myself to believe that I need this backup because at one time, I did. And I’m sure I need this backup a little bit longer, too, but the reality is that until I let go of the backup, I’m never really going to fail and because I’ve yet to really “fail,” I’m going to continue to stay annoyed and in this uncertain abyss because this doesn’t make me happy. This doesn’t make me motivated to grow or change or fail.

And so, all of this has led me back to the point of origin for S2 Stationery & Design. Over the next few weeks, I’m going to get back to the root – to the dream that launched this business idea and company seven years ago. Once that’s in order, I’m adding the passion project that I believe will be my legacy.

Once these things are ironed out, I’m sure my future will look bright, my pockets will be as well, and I’ll be living a life where failure isn’t something I’m seeking, it’s something I’m staring at and saying, “hello, where are you taking me next?”

I can’t wait to share all of this with you!

 

A Call for Holiday Recipes!

That’s right. I’m on the hunt for holiday recipes for inspiration.

Three years ago, I found a fabulous paper created by the Mr.Boddington’s crew and was immediately inspired. I used that paper to design my Hanukkah Latke’s recipe/greeting card that came with an envelope lined with that paper. And it launched a million and one ideas of what could be done with fabulous holiday specific recipes.

But then I sat. I did absolutely nothing with the ideas, aside from thinking about it and telling some friends.

And now, I’m trying to quickly collect them before the holidays are upon us. I tend to cut myself short, as you see. I’ve gone through my collection of cook books and cookie recipes looking for the best and most holiday specific cookie recipes, but I’m falling short. I’ve asked some friends. I even managed to find while organizing a recipe binder a cookie recipe collection printed in the Washington Post back when I lived in the DC/Northern Virginia area in maybe 2005. It’s so old, it’s turning yellow. Not to mention, the recipes didn’t really conjure the inspiration I am seeking.

So I’m asking you guys! If you have a recipe you don’t mind parting with, that reminds you of the holidays, please leave a comment below and I’ll respond, or you can email me at info [at] s2stationery [dot] com.

When I say holidays, I’m all inclusive. Ideally, I’d love to have Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, Hanukkha, and Kwanzaa focused holiday recipes as we’re approaching that season. Honestly, though, we don’t have to stop there. If you have a favorite Ground Hogs Day recipe, send it my way. The same goes for Easter, Valentine’s Day, Passover, any holiday!

The deadline to submit holiday recipes is Monday, October 17th. That gives me some time to sketch things out and get some ideas on paper. Literally.

All recipes will be shared by name, even if not selected for a design, on this blog. Recipes used will be properly credited and the person who shares will get some free product with their recipe(s).

Again, to get in touch with me, please leave a comment below and I’ll respond, or you can email me at info [at] s2stationery [dot] com. 

So please, help inspire me, if you can! And ask your friends to share, too. The more recipes I can get, the better!

 

Recent Custom Projects Review – A Birthday Invitation + A We’ve Moved Announcement

In two weeks, what is the current custom design area of S2 Stationery & Design will shut down for some much needed time off, as well as a reorganization. It’s time to figure out what I really want to be offering custom wise and the time is right to do so now.

In the past few months, I’ve done a handful of custom projects that I’m really proud of and want to share. I’ll do this a few times over the next few weeks leading up to October 1st and may even offer a ranking of my favorite custom projects of all time. We’ll see.

Of my most recent projects, I want to share today these two. They made appearances on social media – facebook, instagram and twitter, I’m sure, but that’s not the same as making an appearance on the blog!

First up, we have an “I’ve Moved” postcard designed for a friend of mine that recently moved into her new home in Seattle. I was super stoked to design this card since the town she lives in is called “Rat City.” I have a soft spot for Rats, thanks to Ratatouille and Pizza Rat in NYC.

As I was doing research to figure out what could go on the back, I decided to look into the nickname, “Rat City” and created a trivia theme. I swear, I did not know that trivia is one of my friend’s favorite things – it’s been quite some time since we last hung out. Once she saw that option, it was a simple decision on her end and I was pleased that an idea actually turned out to be something that literally hit home for her. I was also really pleased with the rat – he doesn’t have eyes, but he’s got that tail that gives some the chills.

***

At the same time that I finished up this order, I finished up a quick custom order I received through Etsy for a birthday celebration invitation. The customer emailed me regarding my glitter lined envelope initial sets and asked if I could do an invite based on her mom’s favorite color pink. I said I could and mixed and matched pink and gold for a festive birthday celebration.

The letters were cut using my cricut machine and then turned into stickers using a small xyron machine that comes with adhesive paper. All I needed to do was peel the letters off and make sure they were placed center on each invite. It was not a long process at all and they came out beautifully. The customer loved them. I do too!

I’m going to put these up as a listing on Etsy. And yes, this does count as a custom item, but it’s not a full-on custom item. Customers will be able to change the letter and details of the invite. I won’t be going crazy drawing and scanning and folding, etc.

***

When I look at these items, I’m awed that I made them, but also smile knowing that I made items that were truly loved and are in hands of people loved, too.

“When I get married, I’m totally having you do my invites.” – Why I’m Changing the Business Offerings of S2 Stationery & Design + When

An advertisement I snapped a picture of just before leaving Japan in January, 2013. That was 3.5 years ago and this sign seems more relevant now than it did the day I took the photo.

I’ve been running S2 Stationery & Design for over seven years now.

Yep, you read that correct, SEVEN YEARS!!

And it’s time for a change.

You already know the story, the idea for S2 came to me while traveling around Italy a month after my father’s death in 2009. It was a series of signs that came to me and then a dream that resulted in this dance I’ve been doing since. A dance that has turned into a full-fledged and non-stop Merengue (the kind where you’re left gasping and wondering when the damn song is going to end) in 2012.

There are moments where I honestly believe that I’ve worked my ass off to get to this point. Then, there are moments where I don’t believe I’ve worked my ass off to get this point. Those moments are the most difficult. Those are the days and nights where I struggle to sleep because I don’t have enough money to pay this bill or do that thing with my friends, or to pay back someone I borrowed money from a few weeks prior. It is exhausting and I wonder if I should at that point pack it in and be an adult – find a 9-to-5 job that pays me well enough to stop the stress. Those are the nights that have and continue to leave me feeling stuck.

People like me love to talk about following their passions. As they should. We are following our passions that come across as outrageous and/or out-of-the-box, and that anyone who is looking for stability wouldn’t understand. What I’m doing is not for the faint of heart, but nothing about following your passion is glamorous or inspiring for that matter. That last point often gets glossed over when people choose to deal with the awe of tossing common sense for a passion.

Following my passion, has required me to become comfortable with asking for help (which I rarely did before), saying no (even to people I love the most), feeling lonely (I barely go out any more), gaining weight (stress beats the shit out of your body), and living in a space of doubt, so much doubt, that I’m continuously uncertain of my accomplishments.

Something that people who talk about following their passions never really discuss is the sticky space of what happens when, like me, you don’t have thousands of dollars saved up and have to work a job to help bring in money so that you can survive and afford the basic necessities. There are so many people, gurus of this “follow your passion” movement, who have taken office jobs to save money and then quit. They talk about this as though it’s a temporary solution that is magical. And it may have been for them, but as someone who has sat in this space for a while now, it’s killing me.

I found my current 9-to-6 job at a point where what I was doing was not working. Where I was bouncing from lots of part-time jobs that kept me from focusing on S2 Stationery and had me resent my decision to quit my job. Let me be a bit more clear -I was resenting the loss of the steady income I no longer had, not the job itself. Working for the last company I worked for was not all that pleasant and I know I made the right decision by leaving.

I know this sounds dramatic, but I feel the same way I felt a few years ago when I was working for a big corporation in NYC. While I haven’t reached the point of crying for the 30-minute duration of my commute, the unhappiness has resulted in overeating, not exercising, not wanting to get up in the morning early enough to do work I need to get done for S2, etc. And I’m fed up with it. Honestly, I’ve been daydreaming about quitting and all the ways it can happen.

Now, the part of me that wants to maintain my car and apartment, fight this and that’s why I do eventually get up and get dressed and go to work. And that part reminds me that I need to motivate myself and do the work that I need to do. And this same part reminds me that it’s time to create goal deadlines to get out of this situation.

All of this leads me to changes…and you may be thinking that you’ve gotten to this point and still don’t understand the quoted bit in the post’s title, “When I get married, I’m totally having you do my invites.”  Let me explain…

When I started S2, I was a diehard fan of creating wedding invites. I wanted to spend a ton of my time working with brides and catering to their needs and whims in a design capacity. I have been told so many times, I’ve lost count, the quote above, and finally after seven years, I’ve decided that I don’t want to hear it any more. Primarily because it’s not true. Every single person who has made that statement has in fact, not used my design for their wedding, nor have they even reached out.

Now, before you accuse me of sounding bitter, note that I’m not. I’m actually quite gleeful that I’m shutting down the wedding invitation design side of S2 Stationery & Design. In fact, I’m shutting down a lot of the custom design business. And I’m quite glad.

It’s been seven years since I started this journey and while I’ve enjoyed every single customer I’ve worked for and every single project I’ve commissioned, as I take stock of both myself personally and my business professionally, I’m letting go of the things that are not worth my time. I’m saying, “NO!” to the stuff that isn’t fulfilling me anymore. I’m saying no to even the thought of a promise that isn’t there.

The next stage of S2 is taking shape and has been vaguely discussed in other posts that I haven’t followed up on, and is being ironed out now, but there is still a ways to go. I’m sure I’ll do some commissioned work and maybe even the occasional wedding invite during this time (I’ve had a few people say, “crap, but I really did plan on using you when the day came!), especially if it is aligned with the work I’m transitioning to, but I’m no longer holding out on promises and work that does not nourish me or my creative pursuits.  This isn’t about the money, or lack there of, either. No, this is about the nourishment. Finally! Right now, the nourishment is found elsewhere and I’m excited for this change.

I’m finalizing some creative projects now, but in Quarter 4, starting October 1st, S2 is moving away from the custom work you’ve known. I’ll still be making stationery sets and individual greeting cards. I’ll still have these wares at markets, but the real work – the work my soul has been longing for the past two years begins. I’ll do my best to keep you up-to-date in a more consistent fashion as things change over.

More soon!

On Speaking My Mind – An Important Business and Personal Lesson

I’ve had blog posts scheduled that I’ve ignored. I’ve started blogs and let them fall to the wayside. Let’s be real, my enjoyment in writing this blog has dwindled. It has a lot to do with making time for it. Also, I wonder about my content. Is it even interesting?

My life hasn’t really been what anyone would call exciting these past few years. I’ve had some great experiences and opportunities. I have a dazzling niece who takes up a ton of my love and time. I’ve gotten to know some interesting dogs and reconnected with friends. I’ve even lost some friends. This past week alone, I blocked and removed friends from Facebook; I also removed them from my address books in my email, phone, and paper address book.  (I’m not sharing this for validation or even as a way to celebrate losing friends. Every loss has been painful. No, it’s a way to show that sometimes in order to clear things up and gain clarity, you have to remove it all.)

Four years ago at this time, I had moved in with family to save money and was an intern at Etsy’s headquarters in Brooklyn. I was eying flights to Japan with a pit stop in Turkey. I had no idea what was going to happen, but I was full of doubt and I went with my desire and heart and leapt. 2012 was a year of a lot of heartache, doubt, silence, self, and love.

Four years later, I find myself in a situation almost similar. The only difference is that I don’t have savings to use to travel for an extended period of time. I do have my sense of adventure though. When I say, that 2016 and 2012 are similar, I’m comparing the idea of doubt in my life.

Doubt is a funny little feeling. It can be paralyzing, yet inspiring. Whenever I feel him come along, I try to embrace him and share with him the surprises that are in store. Many times, that doesn’t do much. In fact, he decides that I’m not listening, throws a tantrum and sends me a nice big dose of anxiety. I’d rather deal with doubt without his friend anxiety, but you know, anxiety does make a big fuss.

Last week, I shared a post on Facebook. To many it was harsh and rude and lacking compassion. It garnered a handful of comments that were rude and mean. I get it, what you put out comes back to you. However, it was something that spun completely out of control for no real reason. It was an opinion. A simple opinion and it ended up being an scrape with puss oozing in globs. It required a ton of damage control that I don’t think I provided very well and eventually resulted in me changing the settings so that only I can see the post, blocking several individuals who had left the most offensive comments and then the removal of the person who not only [I felt] overreacted to my post, but brought all of her friends who felt the need to troll my page. I also made all of my accounts private. Which didn’t do much because after blocking one particular troll, I received an email through my stationery website, from that person, that was just as rude as his previous comments on facebook. After writing something quickly in response, I opted to delete my message, thereby not responding and sharing my email address with them. I chose to let it be.

Since that day, I have been relatively quiet. I have chosen to share a small amount of things. I am “liking” more than posting. I’ve stopped almost (a few slip out here and there) all of my political commentary. I did email one person who had left a comment, who is a friend of mine, explaining my post and apologizing to her if I had offended her. She and I had a pretty good exchange that left me feeling better about the situation over all.

Through this all, I have debated with myself about my reasoning. Is it because I was burned? Am I embarrassed? Does this even matter? Why am I doubting myself? My voice? Does this incident require me to dim myself? What am I really trying to prove? How will this effect me down the road? Do I need to change things?

In the end, I’m sure it does not and yet I am doubtful in my voice, thoughts, and whether they should be shared. My thoughts have always been a bit off. They are definitely not in favor of most people’s views and I’ve always been okay with that. But do I really want to be on the receiving end of vitriol because people disagree?

Nothing that I said will matter on the particular issue I wrote about. I felt the way I felt. I shared what I felt. Rude comments did not change that and will not change those feelings. I’m entitled to those feelings. But did I have to share them? Why did I feel so comfortable sharing those feelings in the first place?

We live in a culture now where everyone speaks their mind without much thought. We speak so easily, even if it hurts someone else. We have Presidential candidates who are considered different because they are spewing their thoughts without much mind. We are spreading these feelings and thanks to technology, the ease in which to spread them are vast and quick.

I have for a few weeks been considering giving up my smart phone for a flip phone instead. (2007 is calling me big time!) I’ve seriously considered doing away with credit card payments as a market option – cash only, please! I deleted the facebook app from my phone to avoid spending more time on this tool that is more of a time suck than anything else. I’m also toying with the idea of a complete deactivation from facebook.  In other words, I’ve been seeking ways to get back to my “Walden.”

Maybe that is why my lesson last week was so important. It reminds me glaringly that the way I’ve been using social media, facebook in particular, is not aligned with the life I want to lead. My life is hardly rainbows and pots of gold and to use social media to project that would be unfair and a lie and not aligned with my values, but maybe, just maybe, it is okay to revert?

I base a lot on values. On my values, for sure, and to a degree, on your values. My business and business ideas are based on my values. This will never change. I care about the environment. I care about women right to choose. I care about your freedom and mine. I care about the people of the world, and increasingly on the animals in the natural world. I care about our politics and the future of our political system. I care about it all. And I’m working on it all (some more passionately than others), including myself. I cannot entirely hide and I will need my thick skin as I move forward with a project that will definitely be attacked, but maybe this whole situation was a necessary bruise to get me prepared for things that I need to care more and be more brave about? I’m sure it is, in fact.

I am hardly perfect. I doubt I ever will be. I will always apologize when I’m in the wrong. I will always attempt to listen to you and make better choices and hear your pain and needs and wants. I will also always have my opinions. I may choose to not share them. Maybe you will, too?  Maybe you and I will become comfortable with my silence?

 

 

S2 Eats + Awareness Project: Entering New Waters

In the next coming months, I’m going to launch a HUGE project. And I mean HUGE. And it involves food. If you know me, or have gotten to know me, then you shouldn’t be surprised by this at all.

This past Saturday, I found myself in a magical place. It felt like a home actually. It is a shop in Greenpoint, Brooklyn, named Archestratus, that is part cookbook and cooking related books book shop and also a cafe/restaurant. They host Blue Plate Dinners every Thursday night and a monthly Cookbook of the Month Club. The owner, Paige, is incredible and so nice. We got to meet her yesterday and talk to her and well, can we say “friends?!” all together?

I told her quickly about this project I’ve been working on and said to her pretty confidently as we continued talking, “when my project is ready, I’m calling you.” She was completely for it. And I now know where most, if not every event I host in NYC for “CIC” will be located.

I should also mention that I was with a friend of mine and a teammate for a project I’ve been working on as part of a program called Do Tank in NYC. Sana is her name and she is a fellow food lover. We talked and walked around the books and carried a ton to a table and shared food while talking to Paige. Sana is going to end up being a much larger part of this project than even I am aware of right now. I’m pretty sure she doesn’t even know yet what her role will be, but she will have a role. It may even be in the form of representing Pakistan.

Anyhow, this idea that I’m vaguely sharing with you now has a ton of moving pieces and a few people, all whom I trust with my life involved. I have a cousin helping with logo and branding design, my brother and his best friend involved in videography, another friend and past roommate willing to help with web design, my mentor as a board and planning member, and my Mom, too – she’s cooking. I’m sure I will bring on many, many more people, both trusted and untrusted. That is how you bring about change, after all.

This project has been in the works since the summer of 2014. That is the summer that Israel and Palestine were at war and the summer of the massive influx of migrants traveling from Central America to the US to get away from heavy gang violence and crime. Those migrants were children, many of them traveling alone, whose parents probably took loans out that they still cannot afford to get their child(ren) across the border to saftey. With both of these instances, for the first time in a long time I looked at the world and thought, “what the fuck is going on?” It may also have been the first time that I truly felt as though I needed to get involved. That my voice needed to be heard in a constructive manner. It was also a point when I realized that no matter what I do in life, my life has to be used to help stop the injustice of others.

Now, I’m not promising to change the world completely. No, that requires collective force. I am, however, proposing to use my stationery company, design skills, and extensive communication background to help shift and shape appreciation, acceptance, and change. This is daunting. It cannot be neatly designed. I am bound to offend many. I hope to impact many more.

To get this started, I’m sharing a collection of photos of foods that I’ve recently created over the past few weeks and months of putting “CIC” together. I have a long road to go, but food is the of the main focal points of this project. From this post onward, one a week will be dedicated to a recipe – some food(s) I’m devouring religiously, experimenting with as I develop and perfect, and/or am inspired by – I cannot promise that these recipes will coincide with exactly what I’m working on, but they will help build connection for when it is ready to be released into the world.  (SOON!)

Saturday night, as I walked around Archestratus, I thought about my life and the wild ride it’s been thus far. I thought about how food has always been a focal point in my life. I carry a lot of weight because of my relationship to food, both good and bad, but this project isn’t about that. No this project is about the nourishment food brings us all, across cultures and countries and religions. My unofficial slogan for this project is: “Even the most immigrant hating Texan eats tacos.” This project is about that element that brings us together even in our fear, differences and hate.

Walking around Archestratus allowed me to remember my abuela Herminia, who was a strong and rebellious female who created change in her own way. I thought about being a three and four year old helping make Honduran tamales with her and my mom. By helping, I really ate most of the ingredients and would annoy her, but my abuelo always had extra as backup. I still help my Mom make tamales every Christmas and the legacy continues. If I ever have children, they will learn and my soon-to-be three year old niece, will learn soon.

This is what life is all about. It is about the changes we make individually as well as collectively. It is about passing down our histories, cultures and family stories. It is about connecting over the pieces that make us all human. I hope you’ll join me for this journey. I hope you’ll help me share these stories and cultures and histories. I hope you’ll help shift your conscious as well as the greater conscious. Most importantly, I hope you’ll enjoy this.

To learn more and stay up to date, you are invited to sign up for our the newsletter on the Awareness page of the S2 Stationery website. (Scroll to the bottom!) You’ll get the good, juicy bits when you do…think of it as the fond at the bottom of a pan of caramelizing onions, or from a roasted chicken. Yum!

Until next week, keep your stomachs a bit empty, your hearts full, and your mind open to expansion and food. And don’t forget to sign up for the newsletter!!