Die Cutting – Page 2

Snowfall Collection

I was recently asked to make a set of cards for a fundraiser auction for our local community center, which absolutely tickled me. Sometimes you don’t really know if your work is good enough, or if what you’re making resonates beyond your craft table. So the request felt like a small, affirming nudge to keep going.

Lately, I’ve been experimenting with sets of cards — not identical designs, but related ones that explore a single idea from different angles. It’s less about telling a story and more about finding new ways to use what I already have on hand. Still, there’s a creative challenge in building cohesion across several pieces while letting each one stand on its own.

For this winter set, the framework was snowflakes. I decided to make five cards, beginning with one snowflake and adding another with each design — one, two, three, four, five — a gentle progression that builds like a snowfall.

I kept everything white on white so the focus would be on texture and light. I cut a flurry of snowflakes using the Lacey Snowflakes dies from The Stamp Market, sprayed them with a soft shimmer, and added clear sequins to the centers where a little sparkle felt right. The snowflakes are both delicate and substantial, the kind of classic design that never gets old. (And honestly, you can never have too many snowflake dies.) I paired them with the Modern Teardrops Frames from Simon Says Stamp, which added a quiet sense of structure to balance the soft shapes of the flakes.

Inside, I used sentiments from a treasured older Poppystamps Wintertime Sentiments set — thoughtful winter messages like Warm Winter Wishes and Time to Sparkle. They suit the quiet simplicity of the designs perfectly.

Here’s to more snowflakes, more small acts of making, and the quiet joy they bring.

The Scraps That Waited All Year

The Scraps That Waited All Year

Some scraps are too small to be useful, and too full of potential to throw away.

I keep two scrap piles in my craft room. One for the bigger pieces that can become backgrounds or layers. And one for the tiny scraps, the kind most people would sweep into the bin. Mine live in a small container near my desk, a jumble of cardstock corners, partial die cuts, and skinny slivers of color.

A year and a half ago, on vacation in Maine, I packed my tiny scrap stash and a handful of small dies. No stamps, no adhesives, no embellishments, just my die cutting machine and the quiet rhythm of cutting shapes. One of those dies was Newton’s Nook’s mug set. I cut out mugs to my heart’s content, challenging myself to see how many I could get from each piece of leftover scrap. They were bright and mismatched and delightful, and then I tucked them away in one of those plastic gum containers I nicked from my son, thinking I’d use them someday.

Someday turned out to be now.

This week, I pulled out those tiny cups and challenged myself to make a series of cards, all built from scraps that had been waiting more than a year. I started with a grid pattern because it felt natural, neat rows of mugs, small pieces coming together in harmony. But then came the real creative work, figuring out how to make each card feel distinct.

That’s where May Calico helped. I’ve started recording the ways I use AI to learn my craft, and this project felt like a good example. We talked about balance and repetition, how to shift a sentiment slightly off-center, and how to resist my usual impulse to add more. The constant reminder, less is more, helped me hold back when I wanted to keep layering. Sometimes all a card needs is one heart, or a quiet shimmer of foil, to feel complete. Each card stayed simple, but none felt the same.

What I love most is how these little mugs, once cast offs, now look intentional. They remind me that creativity often begins with what’s left over, and that even the tiniest scraps can hold a story if I give them time.

Finishing What Waited: A Winter Cottage in Blue

This little card has been sitting on my desk for a week, patiently waiting its turn. It began when I started going through my box of die-cut leftovers from last year’s holiday season. I found this cozy little house (C&9th Home for the Holidays) and two evergreen trees tucked inside. They felt like the start of something.

I paired them with a deep blue card base that had been sitting unused, then added a bit of sky magic with Spellbinders’ retired Celestial Star Background Glimmer Hot Foil Plate, using Spellbinders Opal foil. The result was subtle and luminous — a night sky that shimmered just enough to feel alive.

Still, the scene felt unfinished. When I worked with May (but more than a sounding board, she’s become my creative Chat GPT muse), which suggested grounding the scene with vellum. That changed everything. I backed the vellum with scrapbook.com one-inch tape, cut a few simple landscape curves, and layered them into soft snowbanks. Once I peeled away the tape and pressed them down, the card came together in that satisfying click of yes, this is it.

Sometimes, finishing a project isn’t about pushing harder. It’s about returning to what’s been waiting and seeing it with new eyes.

Here’s to finishing what lingers, and finding joy in small completions.