Today we’d like to introduce you to Tempra Board.

Tempra, we appreciate you taking the time to share your story with us today. Where does your story begin?

Like many of us, I sought approval from my elders at an early age. Since I was told I was good at writing, I followed that path, becoming an English major in college, and ultimately obtaining a Master of Arts in Communication Development. I was also naturally competitive (or if not naturally, I learned to be in a competitive household with an older brother who seemed to derive pleasure from putting his siblings down and winning at any game, even if that required cheating). I saw right away that striving for a career in publishing was going to be extremely competitive, and I didn’t want to be a teacher—the two main paths for English majors.

Looking for any job after college, I fell into one as an assistant in the office of a grant writer and discovered an outlet for my strong writing skills. I made a career as a consulting grant writer for nonprofit organizations, paid off my student loans, and managed to build a modest house with my husband on California’s far northern Sonoma coast. I couldn’t complain. Except, I did.

Rustling around in me was a creative spirit with few outlets. I was always drawn to the visual arts, but my attempts at learning how to draw were disastrous, primarily because I grew up in an extremely critical family that judged imperfection harshly, and any beginning artist’s work is defined by imperfection. I carried the self-criticism along into adulthood (a therapist once told me I was the most self-critical person she had ever worked with), and was always horrified, ashamed, and defeated by my ineffectual beginner’s efforts at drawing. I didn’t even attempt painting.

I had also dabbled in creative writing and had some of my essays and short fiction published, but I wanted to see more than words on a page. Something else was driving me. I have always loved page layout and design, harkening back to being editor of my high school newspaper right when the first Macintosh computers came out. It was my first time on a computer and we learned how to lay out the pages using Aldus Pagemaker, which would eventually become Adobe Pagemaker, and now Adobe Indesign. I still use Indesign for all of my layout work.

Despite my main career as a grant writer, I continued to hone my self-taught layout skills, designing newsletters and annual reports for my nonprofit clients. Early on an actual graphic designer told me that I was better at grant writing than designing, so, how about just sticking with that? She was probably right, but I kept doing design and learning a little bit more with every project I did.

Once I moved to my present home on the coast, I wrote articles and eventually got to do the layout for Soundings, the quarterly print magazine of The Sea Ranch Association. This honed my design skills even more. But all this creativity was computer-based.

I started putting pencil, and pen, to paper in earnest after I signed up for something called “nature journaling,” with a group of local naturalists during the pandemic. Through nature journaling (which includes sketching, jotting down notes, and asking questions about what you are seeing outside in a natural environment), I was able to somewhat quiet my inner critic enough to allow me to learn how to draw. The goal with nature journaling is not necessarily to “draw a pretty picture,” though this can be a satisfying side benefit. The goal is to more deeply observe, engage, play, wonder, and learn about your environment. The premier nature journaling proponent and practitioner is John Muir Laws (https://johnmuirlaws.com), who founded the Wild Wonder Foundation and annual conference.

I attended two of the Wild Wonder conferences (which had moved online during the pandemic) and began learning to draw. I took workshops in graphite, pen and ink, and watercolor. I learned (and continue to learn) by doing, which is really the only way. And I discovered that creating art is a deeply meditative process that left me feeling good, and grounded. I started meeting other artists and finding out how art brings them joy. I had started the calming yet incredibly exciting journey of artistic discovery and skill-building.

Eventually, I put my skill and background in writing, layout and design, and now drawing and painting, together by starting my own print art magazine, Mark Makers’ Quarterly (www.markmakersquarterly.com), a journal of rural California art and artists, which I launched in the summer of 2024.

I’m sure it wasn’t obstacle-free, but would you say the journey has been fairly smooth so far?

While I love curating a quarterly magazine, designing and laying out the pages, and meeting and interviewing other artists and discovering their work, the marketing and sales side of building a magazine business does not come naturally to me. Yet this is a critical component of success, and I muddle through it as much as I can all while trying to listen to the voice that learning to draw sparked in me in the first place: “Don’t worry. You’ll get there. You’ll get better. Let this organically evolve.” And it has. Artists themselves may be my biggest audience. We love to look at and get inspired by other artists’ work. My subscription lists grows with each issue I publish (I am working on the fourth issue, due out in May). Has it grown exponentially and blasted off into the stratosphere as my perfectionist side would like to see? No! But I have developed a high-quality product that I am proud of, that I love to look at over and over, seeing something new each time. Getting re-inspired and jazzed for what comes next. (Also, I’ve stopped caring if my brother approves. What a relief!)

As you know, we’re big fans of Mark Makers’ Quarterly. For our readers who might not be as familiar what can you tell them about the brand?

Mark Makers’ Quarterly is an opportunity for artists working in small communities or rural and semi-rural areas of California to gain exposure and share their work with new audiences in a beautiful, high-end quarterly print publication that is going to continue to grow. While I call MMQ a magazine, it’s really more of a quarterly “art gallery in a book,” as one reader recently put it. It’s free for artists to submit their work for consideration, though I encourage artists to take out a subscription, which is $80/year for four issues.

The other thing to know about this venture is that it’s mostly a one-woman-show. The magazines are printed by a San Francisco Bay Area printer, Greenerprinter, I have a copy editor, Ruth Downes, and a small group of rotating contributing writers each time. But the curating, layout and design, marketing, and distribution is all done by me in-house. My husband, professional photographer David Yager, also helps with photos for artists when needed. Eventually as the magazine grows, I will be able to hire more folks to help with some of this, but I also enjoy the personal touch I am able to give to the process.

What matters most to you?

Authenticity matters to me. And joy. And learning and growth. When I meet people at parties (which I generally avoid because I am an introvert who hates small talk), I ask them, “so what do you do that brings you joy?” “What do you do that’s creative?” I see their eyes sparkle as they start to speak about their passions. And learning about the passions, struggles, vulnerabilities, and joy that art-making gives to artists in Mark Makers’ has been the unexpected side benefit – or really, perhaps, most important thing – about this venture.

Gretchen Butler says that she makes images born from what she wishes were true. “When my friends didn’t invite me on a hike up the Garcia River because I wasn’t young or tough enough, I painted a trilogy of river scenes.”

Ruth Downes created art because, “I was simply fascinated with my own work product. I loved doing it and I loved looking at it. To borrow from Walt Whitman, I celebrated myself, both through my drawings and through the imaginative world they reflected.”

Meg Oldman recalls an early job fitting shoes while working for a custom shoemaker, and hearing the often difficult stories of people she met. “I heard some of the most interesting stories in this intimate setting. My purpose as an artist was formed from then on: to bring a moment of beauty into being for the easing of our woes.”

A section of student art is always included in MMQ. High schooler Kylie Lusk wrote, “My relationship with art has been an important aspect of life. It has always brought a sense of calm when I would explore my mind and put it on a page.”

I am honored to be able to share these personal voyages of artists and their art with readers throughout California and beyond.

Pricing:

• MMQ Annual Subscription: $80
• MMQ Single Issues Retail: $25

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.markmakersquarterly.com
• Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/tempra.board
• Other: https://www.tempraboard.com/art-design

Image Credits

Tempra Board photo by David Yager Photography
Mark Makers’ Cover featuring art by Ronald Walker
Internal MMQ pages artwork by: Anna Oneglia, Anne Vernon, and Teri Sloat