I love nothing more than the printed page, except perhaps the possibilities presented by blank pages. Ever since I can remember, I've wanted to put ink on paper. This predilection led me through early writerly aspirations into various careers in typesetting, commercial printing, and book publishing, all of which have resulted in different degrees and varieties of disillusionment with the fourth estate.
Well, I love a good book as much as the next person, but I've come to believe that the really worthwhile stories are not the ones that are mass-produced for our consumption by the publishing establishment, or even, at the other extreme, those that are now unfolding in the rantings of iconoclastic bloggers (though that's a promising improvement).
No. The really interesting stories are happening all around us, to you and to me, in our daily interactions and small exchanges with friends and family and neighbors and coworkers. It may sound incredibly corny, but it turns out to be true that greeting cards and social stationery are right there at all of the important intersections of our lives, printed pages that help us to observe and preserve occasions both momentous and ephemeral, telling small pieces of our stories.
So now I happily spend my days with three old platen presses and a beautiful old paper cutter, printing, scoring, folding, and gluing things by hand, one piece of paper at a time. I make literate cards for literate people, because you're a lot smarter than Hallmark gives you credit for.