It usually starts with a painting, or a drawing.
Not one I created—let’s make that clear. I’m not the guy behind the brush. But I know the feeling when I see a piece and think, That belongs on a card. Something about it just clicks.
Maybe it’s the grit in an InvaderGirl painting, or thesolemn pride echoing in one of Jaime Munts’ flag sketches… or maybe it’s thesurging emotion you feel from a Lani Hankins watercolor. Sometimes it’s thesilence in a flag hanging still. But it says something—and I know someone outthere needs to see and feel it.
So I negotiate a deal with the artist to get it.
And that’s when the fun begins.
“Just Take a Picture,” They Said...
Once the artwork is in hand, you’d think the next step wouldbe simple. Snap a photo, upload it, send it to print. But no. That’s how youend up with a card that looks like it was printed on a potato.
I clear off a space in my studio, set the artwork on astand, and pull out the camera. I’ve learned a few things the hard way—like howoverhead lights give you glare spots the size of dinner plates, or how directsunlight can make everything look like it’s been bleached for television.
So now it’s a dance—natural light, maybe a soft lamp, anglethe painting just right. I’ve crawled around on the floor, propped things upwith soup cans, and shouted at reflections like they owed me money. At onepoint, I held a white sheet up with a broom handle to diffuse the light, andthat actually worked.
(Don’t ask me to recreate it. I couldn’t.)
For the pieces of digital sketch art, I get to skipphotographing them because manytimes the artwork is print ready!
Getting the Shot: The Holy Grail
Eventually—after enough minor acrobatics to qualify for acircus act—I get it. The shot. Straight, clean, colors true to the original.High-res, sharp, no weird shadows, no dog hair, no thumb in the frame.
Victory.
I treat that image like gold, because what comes next iswhere the magic—and the mistakes—really happen.
Photoshop: Where Good Paintings Go to Look Even Better
I pull the image into Photoshop and start tweaking. This isless about filters and more about respecting the art.
A little curve adjustment to make the blacks pop. Maybe pullback the reds if they’re screaming too loud. Clean up anything distracting—asmudge on the original canvas, a speck of dust I missed during shooting, thetiny signature that endsup way too close to the trim line.
Then I drop it into our greeting card layout. That’s when Iask the big questions:
Does this image fit the shape of the card?
Will someone know what it’s about at a glance?
Can I imagine someone opening this card and feelingsomething—respect, pride, maybe even a laugh if we lean into that classic,Overwatch dry humor?
If the answer’s yes, we’re in business.
From Art to Artifact
Before anything gets printed, we test it. Always. The imagemight look perfect onscreen, but print has a way of humbling even the bestdigital files.
Converting an RGB image into CMYK for print is a trick inand of itself. I make small adjustments—contrast, saturation, sometimes eventhe positioning. I tweak until the card feels like it belongs—like it wasalways meant to be held in two hands, not just hung on a wall.
And that’s when I know I’ve nailed it.
Why It Matters
A good greeting card is more than a folded piece of paper.It’s a message in your handwriting. It’s art anyone can hold. It’s connection.
And when that card started its life as a painting or sketch,created by someone who saw the world through a powerful lens, it carries alittle more weight.
I do this to help people communicate by translating real,human art into something you can send, display, and keep. #SendIt
~Lloyd