Hartware
My blogs
| Industry | Arts |
|---|---|
| Occupation | Hand painted clothing |
| Location | Oregon |
| Introduction | cada@cadajohnson.com |
| Interests | Greetings! This page is my first effort at participating in this amazing internet. Here I am. So, if you have just stumbled across this page, I will give you a wee bit more info about what I'm about. I am walking in to my 20th year of peddling my line of handcrafted cotton clothing at open air markets and arts and music festivals on the west coast. I'm proud to put handpainted, batiked, stenciled, stamped, vivid t-shirts, hoodies and jackets onto the backs of men and women from all over the world. I stumbled in to this from a traditional graphic design career and I never expected to enjoy it so much. Here I am 20 years later thinking and feeling that I am the most fortunate person alive. It has been the most fantastic experience to discover the wonderful folks who are my customers. It is to all of you that I give my biggest most heartfelt bow. You have fueled my inspiration, my visions, and my pickup truck. If it wasn't for this dynamic dialogue that I have with you I would never have stuck it out for so long. Thanks |
| Favorite Books | An ad that pretends to be art is -- at absolute best -- like somebody who smiles warmly at you only because he wants something from you. This is dishonest, but what's sinister is the cumulative effect that such dishonesty has on us: since it offers a perfect facsimile or simulacrum of goodwill without goodwill's real spirit, it messes with our heads and eventually starts upping our defenses even in cases of genuine smiles and real art and true goodwill. It makes us feel confused and lonely and impotent and angry and scared. It causes despair. David Foster Wallace |
What would you wear for camouflage if you were hiding in a gingerbread house?
"There are these two young fish swimming along and they happen to meet an older fish swimming the other way, who nods at them and says "Morning, boys. How's the water?" And the two young fish swim on for a bit, and then eventually one of them looks over at the other and goes "What the hell is water?"" — David Foster Wallace