One fine, random day, I cut a bunch of my watercolor paper into squares. Equally trimmed to a small 4"x4". The motivation was to practice painting with watercolors. The full sheets seemed overwhelming and a huge barrier to entry. I was motivated, yet horribly intimated. I have attempted watercolors at other times, but I think I had just bitten off more than I could chew...
This stack of 4x4s aren't going to paint themselves.
I went to the kitchen and grabbed whatever and started painting. Then I grabbed another vegetable, or fruit, or product and I kept on going. The small size canvas allowed for me to be freer with the paint method. Before I knew it, I went through the stack. I started to grab scraps to avoid any kind of derailment of the painting habit that was forming.
Meanwhile in other parts of life, my husband and I were continuing with our recipe experimentation. (We've been doing this for quite some time, adjusting things to our tastes or simply to find a scratch-made version of many boxed items). I would write down changes we had made in my annual planners. It almost looked scientific with ratings on how it turned out or what to try next time.
Then it hit me as if someone launched a tomato square in my face and the recipe cards came to fruition!
The intention with the recipes was to make something that was fairly repeatable and as scratch-made as possible, like my husband's mamaw would have made it. When he was a kid and called home "Mamaw, can I bring 3 of my friends over?" Then she would run into the kitchen and put her heart in the bowl and stirred something up quick and magical. It was so good that you would have thought she spent hours.
We want the recipes to be whimsical and wonderfully imperfect, including the illustrations.
Side note: But I have to admit! This new card isn't that new. I had launched it already. But it wasn't sitting right with me. I kept looking at it with irritation. It wasn't 'right' and I realized that the initial one was drawn to a version that was too clean, not what it needed to be. Off to the drawing/painting board and many lemons later, this current one came about. It was finally the right kind of imperfect – ha! What I think we all should be!
...I digress, back to the cards... Most importantly, we want people to send messages; written and sent with the same amount of imperfection. The part that matters is letting someone you care about KNOW you are thinking of them. It's not about how the words or timing are perfect. As for the recipe, it's just the icing on the cake.
This blog post was written by me without the aid of AI. These words and grammatical errors are my own. Enjoy!