Grace

I am an above average "tall". Not the "are you a model" kind of tall, but rather the "did you play basketball" kind of tall. At a quarter of an inch shy of 6'2", the answer is yes, I did use my height for it's athletic advantages. While gradual, my personal journey to this high vantage point was not something that could be termed as a graceful ascent. 

I was never an especially tall kid growing up. On the back row for pictures, always, but I never claimed the middle of that pyramid mold. It wasn't until my sophomore year in high school that I "enjoyed" a growth spurt. In the frame of a year and a half, I grew 8 inches.  Not only were the growing pains just that - painful - but I lost the ability to remember my bruises' origins. I couldn't duck low enough for car doors. My hip bones were suddenly the perfect height to catch a door handle's painful edges. In its attempt for my extremities to all get on the same page, so to speak, my body was just plain awkward. When it came to an allowance for my body to adjust to its altering proportions, there was none. Like a professor refusing to grade on a curve, there was no grace period. 

The mention of grace in this context would naturally be assumed in its relation to physical stature. When I think of "individuals of grace" I think of Jackie Kennedy and Grace Kelly in Ralph Lauren, glove bedecked ensembles. While also entirely true in its utter and complete lack in my aforementioned years, I am actually referring to grace's act of forgiveness. The context I am attempting to draw attention to is that which invites mercy.  The grace that bends in an attempt to support rather than snap from a rigid and unbreathable frame. 

What areas of your life are you making more painful due to a lack of grace? Is it something that you need to give? Maybe it's something you need to receive. Personally, I need both. 

Expectations

I've considered stigmas since before I knew the meaning of the word. I am the baby of my family. An athlete. A bookworm. A creative. I can't stand trash left in my car but I'm incapable of noticing when my shower needs a good scrub.

Whether by flattery or insult, we've all experienced a "label" of some sort. This kind of stereotyping is both unavoidable and - sadly - expected. Going into high school, I thought I had to choose. I played the violin, designed notebook covers for friends, and was getting pulled up for varsity sports. If I could go back and tell my awkwardly tall self about this "choice" it would read like a nike ad...just do it all. 

Expectations are a daily encounter. They can either motivate or cripple you. I'm still constantly fighting the battle of living up to them rather than being confined by them. Your talent is a God given canvas beckoning for you to dream. Molds are overrated and passions were meant to embolden.

So don't settle for instagram follows and pinterest board pins. Stop trolling the photos of patagonia hikes and liking Joanna Gaines shiplap. Book the flight. Take the drive. Buy the wood. Pick up the hammer and start making a sweat. 

Stigmas and expectations are only as powerful as the control that you give them. You were uniquely created with a mind capable of discipline, discernment, and desire. Our time on earth is limited. What are you going to do with it?

As for me...I prayed big and started a business with my mom and dad.

Becca

Social Media

I've had a love/hate relationship with social media ever since my freshman year at college when Facebook was becoming a "must". With the demanding schedule of an athlete and a four state separation from home, how do you think a gallery of all the fun I was missing made me feel? These highlight reels are a feeding zone for our comparative tendencies and I am not immune. Because of this and more, I have avoided incorporating such personal aspects in our business. 

With that said, I've realized my own hypocrisy. My father, Gale, is known for occasionally showing up with baked goods at our clients' offices. My mom, female Gail, has had a client's daughter spend the day in her house so she could teach her how to cook for special dietary needs. Our business is especially personal.

This community of letterpress is astounding in its attitude. There's an encouragement and a ready applause for each other's innovativeness and success. At the heart of this historical art form, there is a sweet camaraderie because we "get it". We "get" the fascination of a machine over sixty years old. We "get" the pleasure of making a product with your own ink stained hands. And we "get" the learning process that comes with an updated manual written around the time man first took flight. 

As a business and as a family, we delight in both the learning and the teaching. This thing is experimental at times and with our community, we want to invite you to join us. 

So with that said, let's get personal. 

Becca