Even though I spent my idle teen years as an insufferable hipster–loath to like anything vaguely popular– today I’m utterly delighted that all of pop culture at large appears to share my fascination with mermaids. The way I see it, the mermaid trend is just another opportunity for the amazing mythology and folklore that surrounds these alluring sirens to be appreciated by a wider audience!
A bonus? It’s really easy to find stationery supplies that fit within a similarly enchanting theme – even if said supplies are almost too beautiful for me to dare use. (I’m looking at you, glimmering sand dollar washi tape!)
As my life has quickly become a wonderfully ceaseless cycle of Emily Dickinson research, I anticipate that all posts for the foreseeable future may include references to her verse or letters. In any case, I’m happy to hide myself within these flowers (and trees, and sea creatures)–all kindly sent to me in recent pen pal letters!
In praise of her beloved conservatory, Dickinson wrote “My flowers are near and foreign, and I have but to cross the floor to stand in the Spice Isles.” The letters I receive from my pen pals fulfill the same lovely function: I have but to cross the road to my mailbox to stand in Canada, Spain, the Netherlands, and Nevada, in this case!
Hey, remember back in the days of yore when I wanted to make “creating envelopes out of unusual materials” a thing?
In November, I showed you, gleefully, the envelopes I’d crafted from a recycled roll of wallpaper, hoping to kick off a glorious new age of extensively eccentric envelope fabrication–and then I proceeded to spend the next eight months making envelopes out of nothing but magazine pages.
There’s no time like the present, though, and I’m happy to say that in my continued quest to catch up on all the pen pal letters I owe (if you’re still waiting on me, you should have yours soon!), I decided to turn my manufacturer’s eye to a new substance: wrapping paper. (Specifically, ridiculously cutesy forest creature wrapping paper probably designed for literal babies but I don’t particularly care.)
Wondering where I’ve been this past week? If you’ve ever had to experience the joy of wisdom teeth surgery, I’m sure I needn’t say more. I survived, though, and in the meantime, received some beautiful letters that I read after emerging from the mental fog of oral surgery!
As I rest and weep and wait for that far-off day when I can eat carrots and blue corn chips again, I have plenty of vintage-inspired mail to keep me company. I say “vintage-inspired,” but what I really mean is “one letter that looks genuinely vintage, as in styled after a kind of mod 60s look, while the other reminds me of nineteenth-century natural history.” Pretty cool either way!
Last week, several museum visitors complimented my aggressively pastel, spring-themed attire: a delight, considering that during every other time the year everyone just gazes bemusedly at my seasonally inappropriate color schemes. Flowers, however, are blooming, and humans are apparently allowed to wear mint and lavender again. What a time to be alive!
It looks like my pen pals are on board with this May-ready palette, sending me a variety of softly-hued snail mail–all perfectly complementing the charmingly named “Allure Pastel Blend” of Alyssum seeds pictured above!
Space may be the place, but the sold-individually decorative paper section at a certain major craft store (that will remain anonymous as I still refuse to provide free marketing for chain retailers on my little-read, niche blog) is currently also “the place.” I don’t know when their paper design department upgraded from stripes and polka dots to sky-maps and painted galaxies, but I am not complaining. And neither, I hope, will my pen pals when they receive these envelopes!
(If you want to know how to sing the title of this blog post, check out my #1 jam as a highschooler: one of Symphony of Science’s quality musical remixes of quotes from various “great minds of science.” I think Bill Nye was responsible for this title-worthy phrase!)
You’d be forgiven if your first reaction upon reading this post was something along the lines of “Wow, Keely, was your trip to Scotland last week secretly a dragon egg acquisition mission?”
Well, no, on two counts — first of all, I think there are probably some serious customs restrictions on the importation of magical dragons-to-be, and, more importantly, these eggs were actually waiting for me upon my return! Their provenance is Irish, not Scottish: the beautiful work of my crafting-genius pen pal Emma.
Can you guess how she made them? It’s genius, but I’ll let you discover it on your own. In the meantime, enjoy the fruits of the silly fifteen minutes I spent photographing myself cradling these eggs as though they were my own draconic brood.