Take my card . . . please

I met my friend Kathy for lunch today. No mere social outing, this. We had serious work to do. She had a short story she wanted me to pick over, and I needed help deciding what to put on my business card.

Not that I have a business. That would imply regular, gainful employment by self or other, but “business card” is a shorthand that everyone understands: a  2" x 3.5" printed piece with my name and contact information on it.  Plus, some hint as to who I am and what I do. Therein lies my difficulty.

What DO I do? Well, I do write choral music. I’ve had some pieces published, gotten several commissions over the years (money for art - what a concept!) and my work has been programed in more than a few places. I have some cards that cover that. I had them printed when I was headed for a choral music conference and needed something to hand out that made me look like a grownup. It reads, “Jan C. Snow, Music for Voices,” followed by my phone number and email address.  

But that really doesn’t do the job. Are we to identify ourselves only by what earns us money? Or by how we spend our time? How about by what gives us joy? I’ve made my living, for the most part, in journalism. “Writer” is what the occupation spot on my IRS form reads. And although it doesn’t say anything about teaching, I’ve wrestled down more than my share of writing workshops and classes. 

But I’ve also taught paper making and book making. (The journal-of-your-own kind, not the horse-racing kind.) The bottom of my refrigerator is home to plastic vats of paper pulp. And squeeze bottles of dye. I mess around with a variety of fiber arts, particularly shibori, a Japanese version of resist dyeing. Think tie-dyeing but somewhat more organized.

I’ve played piano all my life (well, minus three years) and two decades ago I added hammering a dulcimer to my skill set. I'd like to play my grandfather's fiddle but I keep forgetting to practice. I also draw. I make no claim to professionalism, whatever that means, but more to the point, I love to draw. I don't even care how it turns out; I just like doing it. And I think I’d like to try painting.

So you see my problem. Who we are beyond the pigeon-holes of endeavor? My late friend Jeffrey was fond of reminding me when I bemoaned my perceived lack of productivity that we of our species are dubbed “human beings,” not “human doings.” Jeffrey would listen to me whine for just so long;  then he’d tell me to go take a hike -  preferably through the park or to the lake.

So, besides, my email, phone number and the address of this blog, here’s what I’ve decided to put on my card:

     Jan C. Snow

        ink-stained wretch

                 multi-arts maven

                 mostly fabulous person

I think that about covers it.