I’d be thrilled if you check out / follow/ like, etc:

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Hum Creative

Hum Blog (follow via tumblr here)

Hum Twitter

Hum on Facebook

my personal twitter

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bye!

I’ve been working as “croak & hum” since 2004, when I was an illustration major at Cornish College of the Arts. The name came from an old book of collected etchings, each chapter vaguely named for what kind of images were in it. My favorite chapter, full of hummingbirds, dragonflies, frogs, and other small summery-outdoorsey creatures was called Croak & Hum. To me the name was relaxing, nostalgic and sweet… and it seemed perfect for the illustration path I was hoping to head down, most likely full of children’s books and greeting cards. 

Surprising to me, I’ve spent the last seven years having people question my name. Plenty have said it sounds awful, thinking I meant “croak” as in “die.” Even more have asked for the story behind it, only to be disappointed  when I explained “I just really love the sound of it.” A lot has changed since then, too. Since 2004 I have moved across the country (and back) three times, lost and made amazing friends, and had seemingly concrete parts of my life fall apart only to rebuild a much happier world for myself. For the first few years out of undergrad, I worked as an illustrator and quickly grew frustrated with the amount of input I had in projects. It seemed like most projects I got involved a sketched out plan for me to execute, which felt incredibly uncreative. I’ve always loved design and typography, and wanted to MAKE things, not just doodle pictures for other people who made things. (Probably needless to say, but many illustrators are able to work in a satisfying way in which they have creative authorship, I just personally couldn’t figure that out.)

So, off to grad school I went. RISD completely changed my life. I met friends I will have forever. I was exposed to new (to me) design ideas, and met designers who worked in ways I didn’t even know were possible. I saw student after student (and instructor after instructor) set up their own practice, allowing them to make the work they choose. I am completely inspired by anyone who starts their own business, and have officially decided to give it a shot.

Seven years isn’t that long, but the difference between 23 and 30 feels HUGE. So, too, is the difference between illustrator-hopeful and business owner. It is time for a new name: Hum Creative.

“Hum” was never the questionably icky part of Croak & Hum for me. Humming is something you do when you’re in a good mood, and something I do when I’m at my busiest. Happily working, humming along. Not sure that will satisfy those who may ask where my name came from, but it feels good to me. It holds on to a bit of my past, but allows me to start something new.

I’ve been working my way through the internet to delete every username, blog, and account that I called croakandhum. From now on I will simply use my actual name for play, and my business name for, well, business.

So, this will be my last full blog post here, save for a forwarding-address post next.

Good bye, blog. Good bye Croak & Hum.

xoxo

Last week I saw my aunt Pam, and she sent me home with a bag of items previously owned by my Grandma Connie, including some amazingly fabulous glasses and  prescription sunglasses. Most of my memories of my grandmother involve her wearing sunglasses no matter if she was indoors or out. It never occurred to me when I was younger that she just considered them her glasses. Seems her vision was terrible, the glass in these is about a quarter inch thick. I’ll probably never wear them, but I enjoy having them amongst my things.

She also gave me a handful of Connie’s dresses, which I am taking to the tailor PRONTO. They are straight out of Mad Men, only real. The best part? they all have these adorable little  tags in them. You better believe if I start a clothing line, it will be called “INT’L LADIES GARMENT UNION.” please, no one steel that, k?

I am not a keeper. I am a firm believer in regular purging of things, but surprise gifts like this are making reconsider this choice. My aunt’s bag also included photos of my mother that I’d never seen, and notes from her announcing the birth of my sister (swearing at one day old she was saying “da da”). I cringe to think of all the notes I’ve tossed over the years that would someday seem magical to my neice, or to my future-kids. Its a little late for resolutions, but here goes anyway: 

I know I can’t keep every card, or every photo, but I will do my best to keep some, and scan as many as possible. And, after I have kiddos, maybe I’ll hang on to the items that become my uniform? They may be happy to have my cardigans and vans someday, or then, they may want to through them out. But, I’ll let them decide.