A look inside my Letterfolk Hike Passports

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Several years after buying them and then promptly and steadfastly refusing to write in them lest I mess up and ruin them, I’m officially caught up with my Letterfolk Hike Passports. The bad news is, I did indeed mess up the first four entries/spreads in one booklet. The good news is, it didn’t actually ruin anything. I just paper-clipped those pages together and moved on.

A bunch of 3-inch by 4-inch photos from a bunch of my different hikes spread around a Letterfolk Hike Passport and pink Ellepi stapler atop my wooden desk.

The other bad news is, Letterfolk seems to have discontinued their entire Passport product line, which is a major bummer. Memorykeeping can be overwhelming. Because these little booklets were formulaic, simple, and affordable, they were a very accessible way to begin or restart a memorykeeping practice. I’m sad to see them go. (At the time of posting this, there are still a few varieties in stock, for 40% off.) (Maybe the product line is undergoing a redesign and relaunch, not being discontinued???)

Why share how I use this thing when it’s no longer available? I think it’s inspiring to see different approaches to memorykeeping, even when the exact materials are sold out or discontinued. Also, this approach to memorykeeping can be replicated or adapted using a Moleskine Cahier Pocket Journal or Field Notes notebook. Having a look inside my Hike Passports might help you figure out how you want to approach your own DIY version.

I’ve never used a Field Notes notebook, so I can’t attest to their quality. I have used Moleskine Cahiers and I mostly like them. My one complaint is the paper is pretty thin so you need to be careful with what writing utensil you use. Both the Moleskine Cahier Pocket Journals and the Field Notes notebooks measure the same as the Letterfolk Passports (3.5″ x 5.5″); have multiple cover options; offer plain, ruled, graph, and dot-grid paper options; and are priced at $12.95 for a set of three.

Each Hike Passport has room to document 20 hikes. There are also some extra pages in back to put a gear wish list, hike bucket list, and some other stuff.

Hike Passport back matter spread titled "hikes worth remembering"
Hike Passport back matter spread titled "animals spotted while hiking"
Hike Passport back matter spread titled "hike bucket list" on the left and "gear wish list" on the right.
Hike Passport back matter spread titled "rite of passage checklist" on the left and the back cover with a list of 10 beautiful hikes in the United States and some wildlife information.

Each of the 20 documenting spreads has a templated page on the left and a dot-grid page on the right. The templated page on the left has space to document details like the date, trail, location, distance, who you hiked with, the gear you brought, the weather you encountered, types of terrain, snacks you ate, how busy the trail was, how difficult the trail was, how long it took you to complete, etc. On the right, a dot-grid page for you to put whatever you want; I chose to include a photo from each hike. Other, more fun options of things to put here: a park or parking pass, a piece of trail map, a wrapper from a snack or the tag from one piece of gear or another that you bought for the hike, or a leaf or flower from the trail (if that’s legal where you are).

A blank inside spread of my Letterfolk Hike Passport. On the left page, a templated "form" of sorts to fill out prompted information. On the right page, a dot-grid.

If you DIY your own version of a Letterfolk Passport, you could create a template for whatever theme you choose to document (hikes, date nights, wine tasting, movies, recipes, etc.), print out however many copies you need to fill your notebook, and adhere each template to whichever side of the page you want. Or you could just write whatever you want to remember about each entry on whichever side of the page you want. On the facing page, you could include a photo, sketch a scene from your adventure, journal about whatever you did, or preserve a piece or small collection of ephemera (a movie ticket stub, a coaster, a piece of a menu, a receipt, a photo booth photo strip, etc.).

Here’s a look at a few of my completed (“completed”) pages. I don’t fill out every field for every entry, just the details that I kept track of (or, when working backward, the ones that I remember) and that feel relevant to me for that particular hike. I also don’t worry about including every detail—I save the more thorough write-ups for a private journal. These booklets are just a fun way to quickly get some of the details down. I’ve included a variety of pages below, so you can see the variance in details between entires and how informally I organize my thoughts on the page. It doesn’t have to be perfect!

Unknown trail somewhere in Shenandoah; hiked May 24, 2015. An early birthday hike with my then-partner and two of my kids. And what an adventure (derogatory) it was: I lost my phone when we drove away from the Visitor Center with it on the roof of the car. We had to drive all the way back home (about two and a half hours) to drop the kids with their dad, pull up Find My Phone on my Mac at home (my then-partner had an Android so we couldn’t pull up the app on their phone), print out a map of where it was pinging to, drive all the way back out to Shenandoah (another two-and-a-half hour drive), and carefully traverse the very narrow shoulder of a very winding, highly trafficked road until I found it in the grass, completely unscathed. An actual miracle. Then we drove the final two and a half hours back home.

Spread of my hike on a trail I don't remember the name of in Shenandoah National Park, Virginia. Details about the hike are written on the left page, a photo of me from the hike is on the right page, with the date of the hike stamped beneath it.

Upper Whiteoak Falls; hiked July 12, 2015. An anniversary hike. This trail is a gorgeous out-and-back with multiple spots to climb out onto huge rocks in the water (we lunched on some), and an amazing waterfall you can swim beneath at the top/turnaround point. Not at all difficult, very kid- and (leashed) dog-friendly. (The weekend after we did this trail we went back out with the kids, two of whom were under five years old at the time, and they had no trouble with it.)

Spread of my Whiteoak Falls hike in Shenandoah National Park, Virginia. Details about the hike are written on the left page, a photo of me from the hike is on the right page, with the date of the hike stamped beneath it.

Old Rag; hiked June 16, 2019. My first “real” hike, my first solo hike, and my first time encountering scramble.

Spread of my Old Rag hike in Shenandoah National Park, Virginia. Details about the hike are written on the left page, a photo of me from the hike is on the right page, with the date of the hike stamped beneath it.

Cedar Run to White Oak Fire Road Loop; attempted January 30, 2020 (did not finish (DNF)). This was…a hike. The blazes on this trail were very poorly marked and with so many leaves on the ground it was difficult to tell if you were even on a trail. I turned back much sooner than planned because it started to snow (not forecasted!) and I was out there alone. Until I wasn’t. Shortly after I turned back, an unleashed, angry dog was running straight for me, its owner nowhere in sight. The dog was extremely aggressive and lunged at me several times, barking and growling and baring its teeth. I ended up having to throw my backpack, sticks, and branches from the ground at it to get it to back the fuck up off me. Its owner eventually caught up and spent what felt like an eternity trying to get hold of the dog’s collar and control it so I could safely keep walking away. LEASH YOUR FUCKING DOGS, PEOPLE!!!

Spread of my Cedar Run hike in Shenandoah National Park, Virginia, which I did not finish. Details about the hike are written on the left page, a photo of ice-capped rocks is on the right page, with the date of the hike stamped beneath it.

Wahkeena Falls Loop/Multnomah Falls; hiked April 24, 2022. An impromptu hike. I went to see the falls, saw the sign for the loop, and said “fuck it” and set out.

Spread of my Wahkeena Falls Loop hike at Multnomah Falls just outside Portland, Oregon. Details about the hike are written on the left page, a photo of Multnomah Falls is on the right page, with the date of the hike stamped beneath it.

El Paso Tin Mines Trail; hiked May 7, 2022. A hike with my oldest, to celebrate her 17th birthday. It was extremely hot this day, just like every other day in El Paso. We should’ve brought more water (there’s no water sources along the way). Climbing down into and then wandering through the mines was so fucking cool.

Spread of my Old Tin Mines hike in El Paso's Franklin Mountains. Details about the hike are written on the left page, a photo of me from the hike is on the right page, with the date of the hike stamped beneath it.

Dog Mountain; hiked May 20, 2022. This is a very popular (crowded) trail. If you, like me, are not a social or leisurely hiker, you will find yourself bottlenecked and annoyed many times along the way, even if you go early as fuck on a weekday. Physically, it’s great. It’s the hike equivalent of any workout on the assault or Echo bike—all lungs and legs. The ascent is immediate and unrelenting (making the way back down more of a trail run than a hike), and the views are gorgeous.

Spread of my Dog Mountain hike on the Washington side of the Columbia Gorge. Details about the hike are written on the left page, a photo of me from the hike is on the right page, with the date of the hike stamped beneath it.

Elk Mountain/King’s Mountain Loop; attempted May 28, 2022 (DNF). This hike almost killed me. Literally. It’s the only hard-rated trail I’ve hiked that’s actually hard, and it’s the reason I haven’t been back out on the trail since the end of the 2022 season; I managed only four hikes after this one, two of which I didn’t finish. This trail/experience really fucked me up, mentally.

Spread of my Elk Mountain/King's Mountain Loop hike in Tillamook State Forest near the Oregon coast, which I did not finish. Details about the hike are written on the left page, a photo of me from the hike is on the right page, with the date of the hike stamped beneath it.

Angel’s Rest; hiked July 31, 2022. My second time on this trail, this time with two of my kids. Pretty short and easy, and by far the prettiest and lushest trail I’ve hiked. If you find yourself in or near Portland in July or August and looking for a hike, I highly recommend this one.

Hart’s Cove via Upper and Lower Cascade Head; hiked October 1, 2022. My last hike of the 2022 season, and the last time I hiked. I’d tried this same trail a few weeks earlier and had to turn back after about four miles because of enveloping wildfire smoke and a mentally ill brain that kept telling me to jump off the oceanside cliff. I’m glad I went back. I’m glad I got the full hike in before they closed the trail, and even though it was a mentally exhausting experience thanks to my OCD and derealization kicking in again on the most precarious portions of trail. I truly have not been the same out there since Elk’s Mountain/King’s Mountain.

Spread of my Hart's Cove hike in Neskowin/Siuslaw National Forest along the Oregon Coast. Details about the hike are written on the left page, a photo of me from the hike is on the right page, with the date of the hike stamped beneath it.

I worked on this project in real time for all of my 2022 hikes so they have the most accurate and complete entries. For all of my pre-2022 hikes, I worked backward, completing each hike’s entry in December 2024. Because of this, some of these hikes don’t have as many details (some of them don’t even have a trail name listed), are missing a stamped date beneath the photo (my date stamp goes back to only 2020; I wrote the dates of my pre 2020-hikes in the space provided at the top on the left-side page), and the numbering of each hike in the top left is fucked up (I started both booklets with “1,” oops). Oh well.

I used the free/basic version of the AllTrails app to measure distance and elevation for most of my hikes beginning in 2020. Stats for hikes prior to 2020—if I listed them at all—are estimates pulled from the hike’s AllTrails page. I included all hikes, even ones I didn’t finish, regardless of the reason. Every hike received its own entry, which means the trails I’ve hiked more than once have more than one entry.

I decorated my current Hike Passport—the one that includes all my 2022 hikes and still has room for a few more—with some stickers. On the inside cover, Owen Wilson saying “WOW,” because of how often I find myself stopping to take in the views around me and, à la Owen Wilson, saying, “WOW” over and over and over. I found this sticker on Etsy. Sadly, it’s no longer available.

The inside cover of one of my Hike Passports featuring a sticker in the shape of a speech bubble with an illustration of Owen Wilson's face in the center and the word WOW above it.

On the back, a “THE HIKER” sticker modeled after a tarot card, that I found at Powell’s. That red paperclip is holding additional photos for, and index cards with notes about, some of the hikes.

The back of one of my Hike Passports with a mostly pink, purple, and yellow sticker of a hiker setting off through trees into snow-capped mountains.

* * *

Supplies

Letterfolk Hike Passport: This entire product has seemingly been discontinued, sorry! A few other Passports in the collection are still available (and at 40% off!) at the time of posting.

Photos: For my regular Project Life album I print my photos at home (I use a 10-year-old Epson PM-400 that I love and recommend). For projects like this one where the photos are exposed and handled directly, I print my photos through Persnickety Prints. Their website is a little janky. Their quality and service is unmatched. They’ve been my go-to photo printing service for a decade. Unless you truly need your photos immediately, there’s no need to pay for expedited shipping. Standard shipping (their default option) is incredibly fast and, with the exception of literally one time in 10 years that the post office lost the shipment, it’s never taken anywhere near 7-10 days to arrive, not even when I lived on the other side of the country.

Stapler: Ellepi Klivia 97, $25-ish (it comes with a little sleeve of 1,000 staples). If your local paper goods shop or craft store doesn’t carry Ellepi, try Little Otsu or Porchlight, two of my favorite Portland businesses. (Fun fact: Ellepi is a four-person Italian team and they make all of their products by hand.)

Date stamp: Miseyo self-inking date stamp.

Pen: Pilot G2 Premium Gel Roller (0.7mm).

Currently: April 2025

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AIMING to try one new crafty, creative thing each month this year. I missed January (oh well), I crocheted a small basket in February, I ordered and completed a custom puzzle in March, and I plan to tackle this paint-by-numbers this month. What comes after that, I don’t yet know.  

A not-yet-started desert-scene paint-by-numbers canvas flanked by paints, paint brushes, and a color printout of what the final product is meant to look like.

CUTTING back on what and how often I buy from Amazon. I’m doing my best to buy local when possible, and to limit ordering from Amazon to once a week at most.

DEBATING whether to invest in a Skylight (or similar) Calendar. While my household consists of just two of us—my son and me—there is a lot of friction between us. We both struggle with executive function-heavy tasks, and my autism and his ADHD clash to near-death daily, especially over household chores and responsibilities. I think having a centralized, always-visible, clear display of our schedules and chores would help dissipate some—enough—of said friction and clashing.

DUSTING off the pile of memorykeeping projects that fell victim to my autistic inertia and spent the winter in a bin in the basement, and hoping that bringing them back into my daily field of vision will somehow be enough to coax my brain out of the prison of itself and make progress on at least one of them.

FINDING so much inspiration in Uzo Njuko—in her creativity and vision and dedication and determination, in her confidence in herself and her work, in her openness in sharing her creative and business processes and experiences on Twitter. 

HYPERFIXATING on preparing for the triple-digit heat later summer will bring, as a heat-intolerant renter living in 85-year-old apartment with large, single-pane, south-facing windows and no AC. 

LISTENING to (and loving!) the Obitchuary podcast. I started from the very beginning in January and just finished the 100th episode over the weekend, which means I’m still two years behind, which means I still have so many episodes to listen to, yay! Spencer and Mr. Eyes’s friendship brings me so much joy—theirs is the type of companionship I yearn for. 

LOOKING very forward to the first batch of big-bouquet gym flowers of the year. The other week the flower farmer and florist who goes to the same gym as I do brought in the first batch of small bouquets of the year—the most airy, delicate, and softly colored daffodils I’ve ever seen. I cannot wait for the bigger bouquets.

Bouquets of creamy white, orange, and pink daffodils accented by cherry blossoms in a wooden crate on top of shelf.

MAKING this year’s summer bucket list, which so far includes a lot of the same (or similar) items as last year’s. 

MOURNING the sudden and unexpected loss of the only planner I’ve ever loved and actually consistently used (I used it every single day for more than FOUR YEARS), after the brand recently completely changed the design and layout and content of said planner’s pages so significantly that they essentially created a new product—one that is not compatible with my brain—without any notice or explanation! I found out only when my most recent shipment arrived. I was, without exaggeration, devastated. I’ve been looking for an adequate replacement for weeks and have yet to find anything that will do. Sad! (I’m autistic! I’m not good with change! Especially unexpected change! And extra especially unexpected change to a tool I’ve used daily for nearly five years to help me manage my extremely fucked-up executive dysfunction.)

NEARING the end of my Portland Movie Theater Project, with just a few theaters left on the list. I’m not sure yet how I’ll document this project, or if a physical memorykeeping project will even come of it. We’ll see.

OBSESSING over my fresh-off-the-press Betty White stamps—and inventing reasons to send happy mail to the three friends I have, all of whom live thousands of miles away, so I have a reason to use—and brighten someone else’s day with!—them. I’m also in love with these forthcoming Goodnight Moon stamps. 

READING the essay collection Y2K: How the 2000s Became Everything (also sometimes (?) titled Y2K: A Witty and Poignant Reflection on Recent HistoryThrough a Contemporary Lens, See How Y2K Shaped Our Past, Present, and Future) by Colette Shade and…

REMINISCING about Orbitz soda and Fruitopia “juice” and dELiA*s and Alloy and inflatable furniture and Afterthoughts and the Icing and Claire’s and Donkey Kong and A/S/L and TRL and Nokia phones and cucumber melon everything and boy bands and spaghetti strap tank tops and frosted wet n wild makeup and Special K cereal and Beanie Babies and boomboxes and Sam Goody and Border’s and Dickies and studded belts and puka shell necklaces and black Steve Madden platform wedge sandals and butterfly clips and translucent electronics and the cool S and dial-up and the magazine aisle at the grocery store and a million trillion other turn-of-the-century relics. 

SPENDING as much time outside as possible before it becomes too hot to breathe. On the days it’s nice out, I live my quiet little life in the patch of grass in front of my apartment, and, in the evenings, on the steps out back—soaking in the sun, reading books, listening to podcasts, working out, eating lunch and dinner, scrolling Twitter, watching YouTube videos, watching the birds and sometimes the bugs, simply existing, etc. 

STOCKING up on puzzles from the Portland Puzzle Exchange so that when, come July and August and several random days in September and October, it’s too damn hot to do anything except stay inside and lie on the floor and barely move, I have something low-commitment, low-pressure, and enjoyable to help me pass the time. 

THINKING a lot about how grateful I am that my kids had the privilege of living the vast majority of their childhoods pre-COVID, and that I had the privilege of parenting them through that phase of life pre-COVID. As someone who is still-COVIDing, I have so much empathy and compassion for everyone else who is also still-COVIDing, especially the parents of younger kids. 

WATCHING (finally! (for the first time ever!)) Grey’s Anatomy. I’m roughly halfway through season 12 (I finally made it to the infamous Elisabeth Finch storyline last night) and, frankly, surprised by how much I like the show. Lucky for me, I’ve got at least 10 more seasons to enjoy.

WORKING on establishing a consistent practice of genuine gratitude, which does not come to me naturally or easily or comfortably. I’ve started by making a list of the things I like about my apartment, the place I spend most of my time and the thing about which I spend much of my time complaining. This apartment is tiny and ancient and not my ideal home. This apartment is also a blessing, and there are plenty of things I like and love and appreciate about it. The list I’m drafting is meant to help me remember—and focus on—the latter perspective more often than the former.

WRITING this post on my phone in the middle of yet another sleepless night. Such is the burden of the autistic brain. Woof. 

Seven creative projects and small adventures I want to take on in 2025

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In addition to continuing with my regular memorykeeping practice, I’m hoping to make more things and go on more small adventures this year. Here are seven creative projects and small adventures I’d like to take on in 2025:

1. Build a website from scratch

For what? I don’t know yet. Maybe one of the many iPhone photography projects I’ve got going on. Maybe for something I haven’t thought of yet. Back in the day when personal blogs were a thing, many of us learned basic HTML and CSS so we could customize our blog’s look and feel to our liking (who else remembers Katrina’s incredible labor of love Pugly Pixel? Or Elise‘s very beginner-friendly HTML e-courses and workshops?). It’s been about a decade since I’ve put any of what I once knew to use. I’d like to try. And I’d like to learn more than I did before.

2. Disposable camera

I’ve been wanting to do a film photography project for a while. I don’t have a film camera, nor can I afford one, and anyway I don’t know enough about photography to shoot on good film using a real camera and to get it developed. Not with these prices in this economy. What I do have are three 27-exposure disposable cameras, and what I do know is how to use them, and what I can afford-ish is to develop one (1) of them.

My disembodied hand holding three disposable cameras, still in their packaging, over an open drawer, in which they've been living for the last few years. Memorykeeping supplies and albums are in the bottom of the drawer.

These cameras are only (“only”) a few years old—I bought them in 2020 with the intention of using them to document the NINE coast-to-coast drives I made between DC-ish and Portland in 2020 and 2021—so I think the film’s still okay (?). We’ll see!

3. Photobooth photos

I love photobooths. Like, LOVE. Especially ones that still print black and white photos on film, which, sadly, seem to be nearing extinction. Still, whenever I see a photobooth, regardless of whether it prints in black and white or in color, or on film or is digital, I have to sit for a strip of photos. I don’t get the chance as often as I’d like—most photobooths here in the city are in bars and restaurants, two places that aren’t my scene. This year, I’d like to find some of the photobooths in the city that aren’t in bars and restaurants and sit for a strip of photos in each.

I know about the ones at Cargo (one of my favorite stores in Portland) and the Ace Hotel downtown. The one at Cargo hasn’t been there for quite some time (RIP)—more than a year, at least. The one at the Ace still prints in black and white, which I appreciate. Unfortunately, it’s no longer film, the color is different, the dimensions are a little weird, and it went up in price (though you do get two strips (different photos on each strip) instead of one now). Here’s a side-by-side of strips printed by the old Ace photobooth and the new one.

Two photo strips on top of a closed silver laptop. Both strips are black and white, though the coloring is different, as are the dimensions of the frames and number of frames per strip.

4. Portable scanner 

Last summer I saw this tweet of a New Yorker taking a portable scanner around the city. This type of project is extremely my shit. I think it’d be fun to do something similar.

5. Portland Movie Theater Project 

About six weeks ago, I, a person who cannot sit through a movie to save a life, decided I wanted to watch a movie in each of Portland’s historic or independently-owned movie theaters (there are 16 by my count). Initially, I planned to start in January. And then I changed my mind.

A small, historic movie theater is dimly lit by two beehive-inspired flush-mount light fixtures. The name of the movie, CONCLAVE, appears on the screen in a green-tinted light yellow font. The letters are tall and skinny, sans serif, and all-caps. The screen is flanked by curtains that appear to be a similar color as the title of the movie that's on-screen. A red carpeted walkway and the tops of empty seats are visible in the foreground.

I got started that week (Thanksgiving week) and knocked out four movies at four theaters before Sunday (Conclave was the first (and Sam Irby’s Instagram review of it made me laugh)). And then, in the weeks that followed, I saw two more movies at two different theaters. Six down, 10 to go.

6. Reread my favorite books from my youth

This was something I’d intended to do in 2024. Life had other plans. In the meantime, I’ve managed to get my hands on four of the five books on this list that I remember the titles of (I’m certain there are more than five books I loved while growing up, I just don’t remember them (it’s the trauma)). Once I have the brain space for this project, I just need to pick one up and start.

7. Sidewalk Joy Map

Portland has tons of Little Free Library-style installations, galleries, dioramas, and exchanges for all sorts of things: books, of course, and also handmade ceramics, keychains, mini art galleries, plants and seeds, puzzles, toys and trinkets, VHS tapes, yarn and other fiber arts supplies, etc., etc., etc. A bunch of them—more than 100 at the time of writing—are catalogued by the PDX Sidewalk Joy project. Once the weather is warmer and drier, I’d like to use the Sidewalk Joy Map and accompanying PDF, which includes descriptions of each of the locations on the map, to visit as many as I can this year, ideally by walking and biking around the city. (This is such an incredible project—a huge thank you to Rachel and Grant, the people who started it and keep it going.)

Old ID cards mini album

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About a year ago, I was trying—again—to reestablish a regular memorykeeping practice. It just wasn’t working. I’d recently quit my job and was still in the thick of autistic burnout and passive suicidality. I didn’t have the brain space for a regular memorykeeping practice, and anyway I wasn’t doing anything aside from lying on my couch all day so there wasn’t anything to document. I wanted to do something, though. Something that took less effort and was basically impossible to fuck up. So I dug this acrylic album out of my stash and a stack of old ID (and similar) cards out of a container in my closet and made this very simple project.

To secure the cards, I trimmed off the top part of Photo Flips and, using the album cover as a guide, punched holes in the top center of each photo flip. It’s all clipped together with a binder ring.

The whole project took maybe an hour. The most challenging and time-consuming parts were deciding which cards to include (all old school and work IDs and drivers licenses, select business cards, old membership cards, and other IDs and various cards that hold the most sentimental value) and in what order (mostly chronological).

Many of the cards in this album are old school and work IDs and drivers licenses. Aside from the one school ID shown below, none of them are included in this post. I didn’t feel like doing the work required to block out all my personal information.

In addition to old school and work IDs and drivers licenses, I also included things like bank cards, health insurance cards, library cards (mine and my kids’), membership cards, neighborhood pool passes (RIP to living on the east coast where every neighborhood has an outdoor pool), National Parks annual passes, business cards (my own and others’), SmarTrip cards, the train schedule I kept in my work bag for the days I commuted by train, and key tags for some of the gyms I’ve belonged to.

Like my pandemic puzzles mini album, because this project is clipped together with a binder ring, it’s expandable so I can keep adding to it over time, which I love.

@tindertisements postcards

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At the start of 2024, I wrote about three creative projects I wanted to work on throughout the year: I wanted to make a candle from the leftover wax of bunch of other candles of the same scent, I wanted to finish transcribing a 101-year-old diary I found a few years ago at a local vintage mall, and I wanted to do something fun with vintage photos I’ve been buying at various vintage stores and stalls and malls around town over the last several years.

I made the candle (and did not enjoy it), I finished transcribing the diary (and absolutely loved it, as well as all the rabbit holes and field trips the project took me on along the way), and, in a true Christmas miracle, I’ve done something fun with the vintage photos I’ve been buying at various vintage stores and stalls and malls around town over the last several years. I present to you, the inaugural (and perhaps only-ever) set of @tindertisements postcards.

A stack of linen postcards sit face up in an open shipping box. Only the top postcard is fully visible. It features a digitized black and white vintage photo of a man dressed in a suit and snappy shoes. His jacket is unbuttoned. One hand is in a trouser pocket, the other on his hip. His head is slightly cocked to one side and he's smiling.

On the front of each postcard, a digitized vintage photo. On the back, a short dating app bio—or portion of one—that I thought was fun and/or funny and/or clever. Most bios are exactly as I found them; some have been lightly edited for capitalization and punctuation.

The back of the postcard in the photo above. In the top left corner it reads, "Jay, 31. Dog dad, no roommates, lavender slut."

This project started almost four years ago on Instagram. I named it @tindertisements—the vast majority of the bios are from Tinder, and dating app profiles are the modern iteration of the hundreds-of-years-old personal advertisement. The Instagram approach quickly fizzled out; I don’t spend a lot of time on the platform, and I wanted to do something with this project that I could hold in my hands. I’m a big fan of both snail mail and quality paper-crafted goods (and also one-of-a-kind items). Postcards just made sense.

A grid of 18 vertical postcards. All feature a digitized black and white photo of a white man.

A closer look at a few of the pairings:

On the left, the front of the postcard: a buff, shirtless man stands on a beach, his hands at his side. Hotels and palm trees are in the background. On the right, the back of the postcard: in the top left corner it reads, "Brett, 27. Send me drunk texts at 2 am so I know it's real."
Brett, 27. Send me drunk texts at 2 am so I know it’s real.
On the left, the front of the postcard: a woman in a long-sleeved dress stands near a tree. A body of water and bushes are behind her. One arm is up on the tree, the other is against her body. On the right, the back of the postcard: in the top left it reads, "Katya, 28. My wife says I should fuck more goth boys."
Katya, 28. My wife says I should fuck more goth boys.
On the left, the front of the postcard: a man wearing a suit, an overcoat, and a big smile stands against a building. On the right, the back of the postcard: in the top left it reads, "Jonathan, 26. Recently on new anti-depressants so we both have the pleasure of meeting the new me!"
Jonathan, 26. Recently on new anti-depressants so we both have the pleasure of meeting the new me!
On the top, the front of the postcard: a woman stands in front of what appears to be a church. She's in a dark long-sleeved dress and wearing a fancy hat with a large brim. She holds a clutch at her chest. On the bottom, the back of the postcard: in the top left it reads, "Sarah, 39. I think many things can be improved with a spreadsheet."
Sarah, 39. I think many things can be improved with a spreadsheet.
On the top, the front of the postcard: A man stands dressed in casual (for the day) clothes, his hands clasped behind him. He's smiling. Behind him, structures that appear to be camping cabins. On the bottom, the back of the postcard: in the top left it reads, "Hayden, 31. I'm into poetry and struggle to understand art theory. Please don't sit on my bed with your outside clothes."
Hayden, 31. I’m into poetry and struggle to understand art theory. Please don’t sit on my bed with your outside clothes.

While I haven’t counted how many bios and photos I have in my collection, I’m pretty certain I have at least 100 of each. Part of my collection lives in an old cigar box (another vintage mall find) on one of my bookshelves.

A vintage cigar box filled with 3x5 cards and vintage photos.

Not all of the photos and bios are paired. Pairing old photos of people from many decades ago with contemporary names and personalities and matching the ages as best you can is a humbling art that takes a ton of time and patience and practice to get good at (I’m still learning). (It’s also quite challenging, it turns out, to find vintage photos of men wearing something other than a military uniform, of people in poses other than standing straight in front of the camera or sat in portrait mode, and of people who aren’t white.) Of the photos and bios that are paired, not all of them became postcards—many of the photos simply aren’t the right dimension. Many more of the not-yet-paired photos will suffer the same fate for the same sad reason. RIP.

There are 33 postcards in the set. I ordered two sets. In one set, the photos are as they were scanned in, have the same font size and placement on the back of every postcard in the set, and are all linen postcards. With the other set, I played around with different levels of contrast with the photos, different font sizes and placements on the back (which you can see in the five examples above), and different paper finishes (matte, pearl, etc.). I made a spreadsheet to keep track of all the different combinations so if I end up ordering any given postcard again, I can make sure I’m using the contrast level, font size and placement, and paper finish that I like best.

Many of these postcards became gifts. I sent a chonky stack of them to my friend and former roommate, who’s been along for the ride since the very start of this project (we lived together during the first year of this project—she joined me on several of my photo-hunting shopping trips and still helps me decide on pairings I’m stuck on, and she’s who’s sent me the glass I used for the candle I made). Like me, she also loves snail mail, quality paper-crafted goods, and one-of-a-kind items. I know she’ll enjoy sending these postcards to folks in her life (or saving them for herself). A few more will go to other faraway friends to whom I’ve sent a few pieces of random happy mail throughout the year each year since the start of the pandemic. The rest will continue to hangout at home with me and their siblings—my greeting card collection—until I have reason to send or gift them.

* * *

This project was hugely inspired by Minor Phrases, an old Tumblr project that has also found a home on Instagram, and much of Sophie Calle‘s work, especially her 2020 piece On the Hunt (an archived version of the original article on the piece, which features more images of the actual work, is here).

Additional related reading: 15 amazing personal ads from the ’90s, a Longreads essay on the evolution (through the mid-2010s) of the personal ad, and one editor’s favorite London Review of Books’ personal ads.

My “Why didn’t I think of this!!!” list

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In my phone I have a note titled “Why didn’t I think of this!!!” It’s a list of creative projects that I (1) think are clever, fun, and smart, (2) wish I’d thought of, and (3) find inspiring and generative. Today I’m sharing some of the projects on that list here.

A mural painted on the side of a SE Portland neighborhood of caricatures of people that kind of look like cute monsters. The question WHO INSPIRES YOU? is painted in all caps above them.

Food diaries and a cookbook

Leaked Recipes by data researcher Demetria Glace (photography by artist Emilie Baltz) is a cookbook of more than 50 recipes—and the stories behind them—that were found in some of the world’s biggest email leaks (Enron, Hillary, Pizzagate, Wikileaks, etc.). Genius. Though it’s useless to me on a practical level as a stereotypically extremely picky autistic eater, I wish I’d bought the book when I had the money to.

Sylvia Plath’s Food Diary, a Twitter account—curated by writer Rebecca Brill (who also runs @sontagdaily) and illustrated by painter Lily Taylor—that tweets “everything sylvia plath ate according to her journals, letters, poems, the bell jar & other texts.” That’s literally it. No added context, just excerpts. Love. For more about the project: an interview with its curator.

What I Ate for Lunch and Why, a blog that documents almost every lunch the blogger behind it ate from May 2008 until early December 2015 (and a few entries from 2017 thrown in). Extremely my shit. As the type of autistic who eats the same thing prepared the same way eaten out of the same container or off the same plate using the same silverware while sitting in the same spot at the same time every single day for months and months and months on end before switching things up, the sheer variety of foods eaten is impressive, fascinating, and incomprehensible to me.

What She Ate: Six Remarkable Women and the Food That Tells Their Stories by Laura Shapiro is a fantastic idea for a biographical essay collection. I love an oblique and unexpected angle into history.

Memoir-ish and adjacent writing

“Cognitive Behavioral Therapy While Running” is a hermit crab essay by writer Megan Williams. A hermit crab essay is one that takes on an existing form or structure of another type of writing. In this case, Meg’s essay is written in the form of a CBT worksheet. So, so good. (Here is an archived version of it, in case Twitter dies or doesn’t let you see it without logging in or creating account.)

I love little glimpses into other peoples’ lives so naturally I love the classifieds. Over the years, I’ve read a handful of books and articles on the history of the classified ad, and a few pieces of work wherein the writer interviews the people behind the items they list in the classifieds. No one does it better than Miranda July (website, Instagram, Substack) in It Chooses You (I love everything she makes). In the book, a project she took on while procrastinating on another, she and photographer Brigitte Sire travel around Los Angeles, interviewing and photographing “a random selection of PennySaver sellers, glimpsing thirteen surprisingly moving and profoundly specific realities, along the way shaping her film, and herself, in unexpected ways.” A dream project.

Illustrator Carson Ellis‘s latest, One Week in January: New Illustrations for an Old Diary, is one of my favorite projects of the year. In it, she pairs new illustrations with an old diary that she kept for only a week before abandoning it—the year was 2001 and the entries document her first week in Portland as a young artist living with other artists/friends in a warehouse in southeast. I’m such a sucker for stuff like this. Sadly, I missed her author talk at Powell’s. Happily, I made the opening reception of her show at Nationale, which featured original paintings of the art in the book (sadly, I left way earlier than planned because my social and sensory batteries ran out way faster than anticipated). More about the project and an interview with Ellis here.

If you grew up in the 90s with AOL chat rooms and AIM and also enjoy peering into the private parts of peoples’ lives, you’ll probably love People I’ve Met from the Internet by Stephen van Dyck as much as I do. The book is a memoir—in the form of a very long annotated list—of his sex life as a gay teen on the early internet. It’s one of my all-time favorite projects. The concept and material are just so good—and similar-ish to a project that I’ve had in the works since 2017, which also draws inspiration from Sophie Calle’s True Stories, Carmen Maria Machado’s Inventory, Emily Spivack‘s book Worn Stories, and The Museum of Broken Relationships.

Pixel art

This Google Sheets pixel art by artist and creative director Kara Haupt blows my mind. I’m endlessly impressed by people who have a brain that works like this because mine does not (or at least, it has not yet), even when I’m given a pattern or instructions to follow.

I’m also deeply in love with Diane Meyer‘s work, in which she stitches pixelated squares directly onto photographs. Her entire portfolio is incredible. I especially love the scenes from Berlin and the 1970s class photos. (Meyer’s work reminds me of Anna Von Mertens‘s project “As the Stars Go By,” in which she hand-stitched onto large swaths of black cotton the star rotation pattern at different violent moments in history (Wounded Knee, Hiroshima, the assassination of MLK Jr., 9/11, bombings of Baghdad, etc.).)

Security envelope patterns

I can’t get over this curated collection of security envelope patterns. Hoping to craft something similar (I haven’t—yet), I started collecting security envelope patterns earlier this year after seeing a memorykeeper whose work I love used a cut-out from one as the title page for a mini album she made back in 2016 (she took her projects offline years ago and I don’t see an example of it anywhere on Pinterest so I can’t link to it, sorry!). When I saw the zine-like project I almost died. Both ideas are impossibly cool and creative.

My all-time favorite home tour

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Years ago, Austin Kleon shared a link to a home tour with writer Olivia Laing. It immediately became—and remains—my all-time favorite home tour; it’s a comfort video for me, and I return to it often. The place is incredible. Full of art and books and beautiful and sentimental objects and ephemera, it just feels so cozy and eclectic and loved and lived in. It feels, too, very authentic to its inhabitants. And that English garden/yard—be still be still be still, my heart. It’s giving whimsy. It’s giving cottagecore. It’s giving Secret Garden.

Did you catch the part where she talks about her home being a love story? As an autistic who spends much of my life at home, where I have far more control over the sensory and social environment than I do outside of the space, I love this idea—and its sibling idea: your home can be a love letter to your life.

What I’m working on: December 2024

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For the first time in years and years—and just in time to discover the memorykeeping industry as I previously knew it has all but disappeared—I’ve got a whole bunch of memorykeeping projects in the works. Perf! Here are four that I’m hyperfocused on right now.

Hike Passport

This Hike Passport is from Letterfolk. It is, of course, no longer listed on their website. They do still have the kids version and a handful of other Passports listed, though.

An overhead view of a pocket-sized, green-covered Hike-themed passport atop my wood desk, surrounded by 3-inch by 4-inch photos of me taken during different hikes and a pink mini stapler that looks kind of like a whale.

Each pocket-sized booklet has room for 20 entires. The left side of each spread is a little “form” that you fill out with information about the hike—trail name, distance, the day’s weather, any wildlife you saw, who you went with, etc. The right side of each page is blank (well, it’s printed with a dot grid) for you to do with it what you will: make a sketch, journal, affix a photo, etc. I decided to include a photo from each hike with its entry.

I’m waiting for the latest batch of photos to arrive before I share more of this project here. (I print many of my photos at home and order professional-quality ones only for special projects (I use Persnickety Prints).)

* * *

Holiday mini flip album

In the memorykeeping world there’s an annual holiday project that a bunch of people take on. It’s called December Daily (more here and here and here) and it’s brought to us all by memorykeeping OG (and fellow Oregonian!) Ali Edwards (also here and here) and her creative team.

An overhead view of a stack of holiday-themed and -patterned scrapbook paper arranged on my dining table.

I do not participate in December Daily. I never have. I’ve tried—lots of times. It’s just never worked out. This is partly because I’m not a big holiday person and so generally don’t feel connected to the premise of the project. And it’s partly because my brain struggles real hard to do a daily themed project and not have each day’s “entry” be from that actual day.

(The way most people, including Ali, approach this project is to tell 25 to 31 different stories throughout the month (many people document only through Christmas Day; some through the end of the month), regardless of whether the story they’re documenting happened on the day of the month that corresponds to the number used in the album. My brain does not work like that.)

Still, I love—and I do mean LOVE—looking through everyone else’s December Daily projects. And still, there is one annual holiday tradition I do with my kids that I want to document. This will be that project. I’m very excited to get the photos back and put it all together.

* * *

Museum Passport

Another Letterfolk product. Unlike the Hike Passport, the Museum Passport is still available on their website (for now).

My disembodied hand holds a small, pocket-sized, blue-covered Museum-themed "passport" over a stack of ephemera collected from museums I've visited over the years.

Like with the Hike Passport (and all the others in the collection), each booklet is pocket-sized and has room for 20 entries. The left page of each spread is a little “form” you fill out with details about each entry—the name of the museum, the type of museum, admission cost, favorite pieces, etc. The right page of each spread is blank-ish (printed with a dot grid) for you to do whatever you want there. I chose to include a photo from each visit with its entry.

I’m working backward with this project, which is not my preferred way of approaching a memorykeeping project. It feels easier and less stressful to me to keep up with projects in real time. That isn’t always possible, and that’s okay. I do what I can with what I have and where I’m at.

I finished all the legwork for this project the weekend before Thanksgiving and placed an order the other day for the photos I’ll be including with each entry. I look forward to sharing more of this project here once I’m caught up with it all.

* * *

Yearly memory album

This style of memorykeeping—which is basically a physical Instagram grid with some collage-style elements and techniques added in here and there—is also known as Project Life, modern memorykeeping, and pocket pages-style scrapbooking or memorykeeping. It’s been my go-to memorykeeping approach since I first learned about it circa late 2011/early 2012. In recent years—since 2020, really—I haven’t been as consistent with it as I was in earlier years. The pandemic and the halt to life as we knew it that it brought are only partly to blame. A pre-pandemic major and unexpected life event is also to blame, as are mental illness and the lack of space there is to store my supplies and work on my projects in the apartment I’ve lived in for the last four years.

A six-inch by eight-inch photo album, open and face up on a table. On both the left and rides sides are a page protector partitioned into four three-inch by four-inch pockets, each filled with a photo or a card with journaling on it.

Nevertheless, she (I!) persisted: I’m pleased to announce that since July of this year I have fully been back on my bullshit and have kept up with documenting the days and weeks and months in this 6″x8″ album. I’d like to share more spreads here on the blog whenever the dreary Oregon sky that dominates this time of year gives me some photo-friendly lighting to work with. Don’t hold your breath.

A six-inch by eight-inch photo album, open and face up on a table. On both the left and rides sides are a page protector partitioned into four three-inch by four-inch pockets, each filled with a photo or a card with journaling on it.

I’m the opposite of pleased to announce that I’m not sure how I’ll continue this practice (my main memorykeeping practice!) going forward—I’m almost out of room in this album and the brand that sold these albums (and the corresponding page protectors) recently pivoted to selling office stationery (sticky notes, desk calendars, notepads, etc.). It’s a brand “refresh” that I’m not alone in feeling deeply confused and disappointed by. Here’s hoping I can figure out how to keep at this project in 2025 and beyond.

My 2025 to-do

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I don’t make new year’s resolutions. Instead, I make a new year’s to-do list comprised of a single, massive undertaking. Then, I break the overall undertaking into smaller and smaller groups of tasks, order them hierarchically, and work away at it all, bit by bit, until the project is done (or I give up).

My 2024 to-do was “get my affairs in order.” You know, estate planning. I have neither an estate to speak of nor plans nor a desire to become incapacitated or die any time soon. Even so, I’m a single parent with no family and few friends (and none who know me well enough or live close enough to take over if I were to become incapacitated or die any time soon) and a history of mental illness. Plus, there’s the ongoing COVID pandemic, the likely incoming bird flu pandemic, and climate collapse. So, even though I don’t have plans or a desire to become incapacitated or die any time soon, I recognize that these things are not, ultimately, in my control, and I made it my mission this year to plan as best I could for the inevitable.

This was a deeply uncomfortable undertaking. It was also an important and necessary one. After a year of difficult work—I had to stop and take weeks-long breaks several times throughout the year because thinking about these things often triggered my OCD (existential subtype) and derealization, and the administrative aspect of estate planning is not compatible with my autistic executive dysfunction—I managed to check this to-do off my list at the eleventh hour (yesterday!). Thank fuck.

In 2025, I want to tackle my digital photo and video organization and storage. Like 2024’s to-do, this will be a massive undertaking. I anticipate it will also be massively frustrating at most points and massively rewarding and helpful once it’s complete. (I’ve been trying (“trying”) to tackle this task since, like, 2018 as part of a larger digital decluttering project I’ve been very slowly chipping away at. It has always felt too overwhelming. Getting my affairs in order also felt incredibly overwhelming and I managed to do it anyway. I’m hoping the sense of achievement and ability that crossing that to-do off my list gave me helps me finally get to the finish line with this project, too.)

I’m not yet sure how I’ll approach this thing because I haven’t yet completely mapped out the project. I do know that my first steps will be to figure out where all my digital media is, and then, before I start fucking around with it, back it all up.

Completing these two steps will be challenging considering several of my memory cards are missing or lost (RIP), a not insignificant amount of media (about eight years’ worth) is saved locally on an old laptop that I don’t currently have physical access to (it’s in a co-parent’s garage, thousands of miles away) and may not actually even work anymore, my old Dropbox account isn’t downloading/exporting files correctly (and their support team can’t figure out why), and I have a bevy of photos that now exist only online with photo storage services I don’t remember the names of and maybe don’t exist anymore. And then there’s the headache of the media that I do currently have access to, which, at roughly 130,000 photos and videos, is beyond overwhelming.

Eventually, this undertaking will also involve distinguishing iPhone media from GoPro media from “real” camera media (this is something that is important to me right now; it may not be once I get going with this project); going through all my screenshots and probably deleting most of them; figuring out offline backup solutions; and drafting a README document that explains where everything is and how it’s organized so that when the time comes my kids can easily find what they’re looking for.

The end result of this project doesn’t need to be perfect. It just needs to work better than what I’m doing now: Whatever the solution, it should be able to adapt to changes (as best as can be anticipated) in technology, our access to it (I am deeply concerned about the future of the internet), and how we use it; it should be able to adapt to my needs; it should include both on- and offline redundancy; and it should be easy and economical to use, maintain, and back up. Data privacy and security, especially in regard to (1) citizen surveillance and (2) customer data being used to train AI, is also very important to me. Unfortunately, both of these things seem ultimately unavoidable.

Because this to-do overlaps so heavily with the types of things I’ve shared so far here on the blog—memorykeeping, other creative and creative-ish projects, small adventures I take (or find) myself on—I’m sharing about it here on the blog, too. Partly to help myself stay focused on this monumental task, and partly in case it’s the push someone else needs to get going—or pick back up—with their own similar effort. Progress report to come.

Pandemic Puzzles mini album: An update

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Over the weekend I added photos for five additional puzzles to my Pandemic Puzzles mini album. I messed up on the very first one 😬.

Spread #1. The left-hand page is a photo of the puzzle's unpuzzled pieces. The right-hand page is a photo of the completed puzzle of illustrations of different chickens.
Chickenology by Princeton Architectural Press. 1,000 pieces.

Ideally, the right-side page should be flipped so that “chickenology” is on the edge, facing in. The thing is, there was…a wildlife situation happening on the roof of my apartment building when I was putting these pages together. It was extremely loud and distracting (and, at times, sounded kind of like chickens). I would’ve gone outside to get a better idea of what was happening (I was watching it as best I could via the reflection in the top-floor windows of the building across from mine) if there hadn’t also been an aggressive and likely rabid raccoon terrorizing tenants in our parking lot. It was an eventful holiday over here (and, quite frankly, the most excitement in my life all year). Anyway. I was distracted by all the chaos and I messed up. Oh well.

I bought this ramen puzzle at Two Rivers/Weird Sisters, a super cute combination book store/yarn shop in North Portland’s St. Johns neighborhood. If you’re planning a visit to Portland, I highly recommend checking this place out while here. (Hound & Hare, a vintage shop a few blocks over, should also be on your St. Johns list of places to visit.)

Spread #2. The left-hand page is a photo of the puzzle's unpuzzled pieces. The right-hand page is a photo of the completed puzzle of an illustrated overhead view of two bowls of other ramen and other sides and foods.
Late-Night Ramen by Smith Street Books. 1,000 pieces.

I picked up this needlepoint puzzle (and a holiday-themed one I haven’t started yet) in October at Portland Puzzle Exchange‘s monthly event. It was my first time attending. There was a live band, free refreshments, and a lot of people—the line was through the community center that it’s held in, out the door, and down the block. It was sensory and social overload.

Spread #3. The left-hand page is a photo of the puzzle's unpuzzled pieces. The right-hand page is a photo of the completed puzzle of needlework letters and numbers in a grid pattern.
Needlepoint A to Z by Galion. 1,000 pieces.

This tarot card puzzle is double-sided, which I didn’t realize until I got home and was a little annoyed about. I thought it would make doing the puzzle unenjoyably challenging. Fortunately for me, both sides of the puzzle pieces were coated differently, which made it easier to distinguish which side of any given piece was the side I needed.

Spread #4. The left-hand page is a photo of the puzzle's unpuzzled pieces. The right-hand page is a photo of the completed puzzle of various cards from the tarot's major arcana, arranged in a grid.
Major Arcana (double-sided) by Galison, 500 pieces.

This Golden Girls puzzle was more challenging than I expected. Some of the pieces have a “normal” puzzle cut, some of them are shaped really strangely. The hair was the hardest part.

Spread #5. The left-hand page is a photo of the puzzle's unpuzzled pieces. The right-hand page is a photo of the completed puzzle of The Golden Girls seated for a portrait a la 1980s JC Penny-style photos.
The Golden Girls by USAOPOLY. 1,000 pieces.

This puzzle was a very unexpected and fun find—I walked into it on the sidewalk while on my way home one afternoon. It was with a stack of other puzzles, left beneath a Little Free Library in the neighborhood. Incredibly, no pieces were missing.

A stack of piles on a neighborhood sidewalk. The Golden Girls puzzle is on top.

It’s not uncommon to find free piles around the city. Portlanders (myself included) leave out all sorts of things—in various states of condition, and in various types of containers (or no container)—for others to take. There are almost always several free piles lining the sidewalk on my street, and I encountered a lot of free piles during my summer walks. This was the first time I came across puzzles. The Golden Girls puzzle is the only one I took and it’s for sure my favorite free pile find so far.