Where Thanksgiving insists upon ritual, Friendsgiving thrives on invention. Its visual language is culled from the eccentric margins of history: an etched turkey with exaggerated plumage, children dwarfed by improbable gourds, abstracted florals painted in jewel tones. These fragments, reshaped into placemats, puzzles, invitations, and table dressings, turn the table into a stage for chosen family.
“Good friends, good books, and a sleepy conscience: this is the ideal life.”
— Mark Twain

