I’m not into business cards. As trips and events loom, I blindly construct something emblazoned with my basic information so as to convince myself I’m prepared, should I be challenged to produce my credentials. Oh, a photo. Because I should probably make myself look less like an accountant (I like you, accountants). I close my eyes and take a stab at some photo from my archives – myself posing in a churlish manner, sullen faced, because I’m a blogger and that’s what bloggers should put on their business cards. right? Ok, done. Except when it comes to said challenge, I mumble something about having forgotten my cards at home because the thought of handing over such shoddiness makes me cringe. Result: several hundred¬†badly designed,¬†undistributed cards sitting on shelves or crumbling in the bottom of bags, covered in chocolate.

Well, this time, I allocated some time to It nurtured my needs and we formed a relationship. I picked favourites from my own work and we produced something beautiful together. I was card happy. Found some postcard joy too. If you see me, please ask me for a card. Because even if you don’t, I will throw one in your direction and cannot be held responsible for any injury incurred.

Get card happy here.

This is a lot of text. Not mad.

– Nadia