"Okay. So, Spencer asked me to write an entry regarding my experience screenprinting. You should know first that I teased him mercilessly for this through our first session, as we encountered pretty much every problem you can have in this process in the first half hour or so ("Dear internets: and then my wise and benevolent teacher fell on his ass"). He's a good sport though, and made no comment on the fact that I'm so short, I needed to stand on a cinder block to use his home-made set-up. Which he should have. Anyone else would have.
And the second thing you should know is that it's easy. I mean, Spencer did all the hard, annoying parts for me. He got the screens made, he ordered the shirts, he set up the work space, bought the ink, et cetera. I was there, essentially, to make it "mine." I drew the design. I get to provide the elbow grease. So I mixed the fabric ink, and he showed me how to line up the shirts and load the screen. Now, I enjoy good, repetitive, mind-numbing work as much as the next field-hand, but I will be honest—it hurt. I have wee bitty arms, and wee skinny wrists that I wear braces on to fend off the inevitable carpal tunnel surgery, and the set-up obviously wasn't made with me in mind—I was standing on a cinder block, after all. So it hurt. But you
don't wuss out on a guy as nice as Spencer.
Also, I wanted a tshirt with a pissed-off unicorn on it. And a thai mermaid goddess. And all those other cool things I'd seriously consider for a tattoo and then chicken out on. Earning a little money on the side doesn't hurt."
--meg
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Meg did great and all I had to do was feed her a little shepherd's pie. And juice. She demanded juice. I do admit, Russ and I made the table a bit high too save our own backs. I'll make sure I have a better platform for next time.
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