LAUREL STREET PRESS
put your memories on a bookshelf
OR ON A WALL (posters now available)
tell ME a story
— CUSTOM, HAND-BOUND AND ILLUSTRATED SHORT-STORIES —
Tell me about your mom and the way she cooks your favorite breakfast. Tell us about the traditions you've cultivated over the years. Tell me your love story. Tell me your heartbreak. Tell me about all the places you've been on foot. Tell me to write about your writer's block or your hair-dye journey. Tell me how the colors crystallized your creativity. I want to write about you or your friend or your teacher or your loved one or that one particular place that energizes you. You tell me a story, and I'll make it a memoir. You give me a theme, and I'll narrate its core. I'll make it pretty too. A book with binding and your favorite lettering. Gift it to your bookshelf or during celebration. Gift it for a holiday. Gift it just because.
For inquiries and available options, keep scrolling.
TELL ME A sTORY
Briefly describe your story or poem that you'd like me to write. We'll talk details in depth soon.
Who is your story for?
Do you need it by a certain date? (Stories requested for completion within less than a month may be expedited for an additional charge)
Do you want it illustrated? Check out samples below.
Made-up, adventure stories are also available. Just ask!
All stories are made-to-order and hand-bound. Prices are estimated and will be finalized based on customizations, including length.
Not sure you want a personalized, hand-bound storybook? Curious though? Reach out anyway, and we can chat!
portfolio
artist bio:
C’est Funk
Where do you go in your head? Can you paint me a picture? Is there music? Does it move you? For João, there's always music. It's complexly part of the landscape, making any scene all the more sweet with richness and texture. Putting the medicine in the candy, he calls it. The medicine is the music, and it curates the experience, coats it in sugar. João is the curator. Queued, collected, present. All sounds orchestrated with ease and adding brilliance. Now we're all dancing.
Growing up, João got lost in his head listening to the music. It meant something to him, much like it means something to you. At the time, there were songs that immersed him even though he didn't know the words. When he moved to New Orleans in 2014, he was 19, and he barely spoke English. But he had his inclinations: the music was enough.
One evening, in some upscale venue, João found himself at a Samba show. The music rang with rhythms that ribboned layers over and over themselves, but everyone was sitting down, and it shocked him. Without dance, where is the liberation?
Back home in Belo Horizonte, João lived, grooved in lush waterfalls, energizing music and tranquility. Brazil is saturated like that. You ever jump right into the water without thinking? The full body immersion is the magnificence. Back on land, you take with you rejuvenation.
During that Samba show, João had an idea, and it took root in the rhythm or "batucada," emerging as Batucada Groove, an international dance party fueled by vinyl and culture.
You'll hear the rhythms and beats behind Brazilian disco, Latin funk and worldwide house blend together in smooth transitions. You'll wonder where those notes are from that made you move in this way, and you'll ask João after the show. We dance first, and then we get interested in each other.
Before you know it, you'll be across the world on your way to the jungle so that you too can swim in the waterfalls of Belo Horizonte.
Need a writer for your project?
Whatever it is, the way you tell your story can make all the difference.
Live Writing Samples: From the Writing Booth
The high heat of day, the dry heat of day. That's when I let the sun in, by the river with the water on my toes. Mama knows. We're all in love, in the river, where it's rich and runs forever. Once, when I went in, with my head under the surface, I caught the sounds of stories found; they were lost in turf and spinning round. I gave my hand, an unwinding dance, and in return, I could float the earth forever. - "Write about a river and make it ethereal; include our Mother."
Churning out stories like laundry; my hands know the details. Haven't washed my hat once, but I leave it in the sun. When I'm walking, when I'm washing - all before the first stars. When I'm out there, always churning, making music by the bars, by the bayou. I'll look you in the eyes. Man! God is showing up today. Have I got a tale for you. I'm out there, always churning, making music by the bars, by the bayou. - "Write about my friend who's a poet and musician in the Quarter."
"I'll write when I wanna." You're resolute, and there's pages on the desk. All blank pages. It's a mess. Honey, you're stuck in the jar, and you just need a little heat. Honey's always flowing when it's warmer. We're softer now, our minds bending. And we'll tend to the pages, fill them with spaces, whatever rages; these words. "I'll write every morning to let honey flow." - "Write about writer's block."
Seated up high so I can see the world the way Momma does. Caught a ride around town, and she pedals. On my way to the water where the trees weep. They cry like me when I'm thirsty. Momma, we need you. - "Write about a baby on a bicycle."
You can forget that angels float around you; they'll hang there in the wings. When you call on them again, they may play a few tricks to remind you of their wit. Stay open as they come and go. You'll know their presence when things start to flow and flowers grow. - "Write about angels."
The rain makes the mud, and I make the storm. Some people call me a fool because I'm not wearing rain boots. But bare is aware of the ground under there and the sand and the stone and the granules of dirt that get in my toes. It's my fool's journey: and I'm heading back home. - "Write about the fool."
I could say I always knew, the way a love seat just knows it's meant to couple. The way a flower just knows it's meant to bloom. But I didn't know, and I'm not sure why I forgot, except that it feels so good to remember. And now, you're sitting next to me, and we're always flowering. And the knowing comes easy." - "Write about my woman. She's about to be my wife. We dated years ago. We broke up. I don't even know why, but one day, she just popped into my mind so I reached out to her again."
On my path, I walk with a rhythm that moves me forward and keeps me even. Less fear in each step. Suddenly, a rattle rings and all the fear that ever was comes rushing in and sends a flood. I've gotta pause or I'll forget everything. (1/2) - "Write whatever feels right."
Remember, it isn't always easy, but to breathe out the fear might make a rare acquaintance. The rattlesnake and you. (2/2) - "Write whatever feels right."