Aryn Henning Nichols

Cardboard Robot on Winnebago Street in Downtown Decorah is “your friendly neighborhood making-stuff store.” It’s a place filled with creativity and inspiration – art supplies, science toys, craft kits, nice paper and journals, and lots of nice pens (and other good stuff too).

“Everything we sell takes some creative input – building, writing, doing. One of the examples I often give is that we don’t sell greeting cards, but we do sell blank cards and envelopes that you can make into a thoughtful and personal greeting card,” says owner Eric Sovern. 

Eric and his wife, Shannon Horton, moved to Decorah from the Twin Cities in June of 2008. They had just had their son, Jack, in 2007, and Eric was able to work remotely at his job for Surly bicycles.

In 2011, the Decorah community was lucky to name Shannon as the new Decorah Middle and High School librarian, and in 2017, Eric and Shannon jumped into the entrepreneur world by opening Cardboard Robot in Decorah.

It’s a family business through-and-through. “Jack turned 17 in August of this year. He’s a senior. When we started the shop, he was 10 and loved giving people tours of the store when they came in,” Eric says. “Best salesperson ever.” And the work Shannon does at the schools goes hand-in-hand with the mission at Cardboard Robot, funneling ideas to engage young people in creative endeavors. 

The Cardboard Robot building sits tall on an alley corner midway up Winnebago (a street that gets more rad by the minute). The front door is sandwiched between an always awesome (often cardboard) window display and a cool black-and-white mural. Inside, the 3D printer is generally humming away, making something neat in the background while Eric is busy helping a customer or putting together a CardBored Box in the back workshop. 

What’s that, you ask? The CardBored Boxes are Cardboard Robot’s own brand of everything-you-need activity kits. Packaged in a box you can turn into your very own cardboard robot; each kit is a complete maker adventure. Current offerings include the Helm of Brilliance – a DIY headlamp including a small circuit board; the (Hold Me Closer) Tiny Stamper – with a Speedball linoleum carving tool and pink eraser to make your own stamp; and the Fun Size Art Gallery – three mini canvases and supplies to make a “wee art show” (including two 3-D printed figures ready to admire your work).

While Cardboard Robot is a great place to find presents for birthdays and holidays alike, Eric wants folks to remember creativity is a gift for yourself, too. Creative work is all about the process; you don’t have to be good at it to do it. It’s the doing it part that often holds the most beauty.

The Basics:
Name: Eric Sovern
Age: 55
Business: Cardboard Robot
Year Business Established: 2017
Business address: 110 Winnebago St Decorah
Website: cardboardrobot.biz

Tell us about the “leap” moment. When/how did you decide to jump in and become your own boss?

From what I know, a lot of business owners are living out a dream they’ve had for a long time to own a business. Maybe it’s odd, but that’s not been my experience at all. I had never planned to open a retail store for people who make things. Instead, I think I’ve lived a life that has somehow led me inexorably to opening a retail shop for people who make things. So, in that sense, there was no “leap moment” so much as a long slow decline into entrepreneurship. 

I think Cardboard Robot is the culmination of the jobs I’ve done, the hobbies I’ve tried, and the desire for the kind of weirdo clubhouse of creativity that I wasn’t sure existed anywhere. I was a teacher for a few years, and I worked in the bicycle industry for a lot of years. Both of those careers involved a lot of creativity and trying to do something worthwhile. Also, in 2007 we had a kid. There’s not much that will keep you on your toes trying to figure out cool things to build, make, and do more than trying to keep a six-year-old entertained.

Shannon, in her role as librarian, started a maker space for Decorah Middle School, and that became a huge inspiration for the store we eventually created. Watching students light up when asked to build something is a powerful thing.

Honestly, the store itself is a pretty equal two-scoop helping of Shannon’s great eye for cool things people might want and my love of the jumbled hobby store. I love it so much when people come in and have an idea of a thing they want to make. I want to help with that. A mom came in one year frustrated that her daughter didn’t want any of the princess costumes that were offered for Halloween, but instead wanted to be a clothes dryer. Yes, please! Getting to help bounce around ideas about how that might work was 100 percent satisfying.

That’s ultimately the genesis of the store’s name, too. Making a weird costume for your kid can be so much more fun than just buying something. The Cardboard Robot really did happen in our basement – and it’s a symbol in our minds for getting creative.

What’s the weirdest request you’ve had at the store?

I did have a person walk 10 feet into the store once, look around for a solid 20 seconds from that spot, and then ask me if everything in here was made out of cardboard. I’ve also had people think we’re a shipping store that will package up your glass beer growlers and get them safely across the country.

What do people come in for all the time?

Pens and journals. I love pens and journals, and so do our customers. The simplest form of creativity happens when you grab a writing instrument and face a blank page.

What’s the best thing about being your own boss?

I love not having to ask for permission to do a thing. I’m a pretty spontaneous person generally, and planning ahead doesn’t always come naturally to me. So, now, when an idea strikes, I can just go with it. I don’t have to run it through a committee or have a meeting. That feels pretty cool.

 How about the worst?

The fear of failure can be paralyzing. “What if people don’t like this?” I mean, I feel like the store is a pretty good representation of what I like and who I am. If people don’t get it, or don’t like it that feels personal. I get that it’s not, but still…

 Any mentors/role models you look to/have looked to?

I once worked on a crew painting dorms in the summers while I attended the University of Iowa during the previous century. The boss was a younger guy just a few years older than I was who had taken over the business from his uncle. He was the sort of person who wanted to teach you to do a job, to do it well, and to be proud of the outcome, and that made me want to work hard just so he would make money. It was from him that I learned that what job you did wasn’t really the important thing. What mattered was working hard and working with integrity. “Paint the parts that nobody will ever see and do it well because it’s the right way to do it.” 

I also come from a line of entrepreneurs and idea people. My parents are both people who hatch plans and go for it. Both of them went back to school later in their careers and were never afraid to change course and follow a new path. That’s an amazing lesson to have learned and I will always be grateful for them. Having a belief somewhere inside you that you can do just about anything is pretty powerful, and I’m grateful to my folks for instilling that.

What’s the one thing you wish you had known before you started?

I wish I knew at the beginning how to better ask for help. I think I still need that. There are so many parts to running a business, and I’m pretty sure it’s impossible to be good at all of them – though, I think I have tried. It really does help a ton to lean on the skills of the people in your life. I couldn’t be happier when someone asks me for help, but it can be difficult for me to do that myself. I suppose it may be the most Midwestern thing about me. I’m still working on this.

 How do you manage your life/work balance?

Working at Cardboard Robot is something that I really do enjoy. I’m mostly able to separate myself from work for time with family and friends. But that doesn’t mean I don’t wake up at 4 am thinking about shelving or how many bags we have left. We originally moved to Decorah from Minneapolis 17 years ago to reduce commute times and feel more connected to our community and our kid. I think that has worked out pretty well for the most part.  This might also be a good question for Shannon to answer.

What keeps you inspired?

The inspiration for this venture comes directly from our customers. I love that we have regulars who get supplies from us to make amazing things. It’s also energizing to talk with Decorah’s visitors and find out where they’re from and what they do. During a lot of conversations I have with these folks they will pull out their phones to show me pictures of the art or craft or cardboard fort they’re building or making. Seeing that and hearing people say how much they appreciate having a place that supports creativity is the fuel that keeps this bus on the road.

What do you wish people knew or believed about creative work?

The thing I least like to hear from people is, “I’m not an artist,” or, “I’m not crafty.” I think people actually believe that you are either born with the natural ability to make beautiful things, or you are not, and are forever relegated to a life of blandness. Everyone is an artist. Everyone can make things. You may not be able to paint the Sistine Chapel ceiling, but that’s a good thing because it’s already done, and I think you’d get in trouble. Michelangelo didn’t paint that on the first day he picked up a brush. He wanted to do it, worked at it, and got good at it. It’s the same as it is with everything. I’m no good at flying a plane, but that’s because I’ve never trained to do it or made it a priority in my life. I’m pretty sure I could learn to do it with training and practice. Some people have been doodling in the margins of every piece of paper they’ve held. That’s artist training, and sometimes they get pretty good at it. Art and craft work also doesn’t have to hang in a museum for it to have value. All it has to do is express something you feel inside and then make you feel good about getting it done.

Read more Sum of Your Business interviews here!

Ten years ago, Kara Maloney was a senior at Luther College in Decorah, completing a double-major in Studio Art and Business Management, running cross-country, and feeling excited about her future. 

A bit anxious, too.

“Arts management is a highly competitive field,” Kara says. “I’d done internships at Vesterheim, Lanesboro Arts, and Springboard for the Arts, but I still wasn’t sure where I was headed.”

Kara arrived in Lanesboro, Minnesota, in 2015 for that one-month internship at Lanesboro Arts, a nationally recognized and respected small-town arts center. A year later, she became its full-time advancement director.

She had some reservations about moving to a town whose population barely topped 700. “I grew up in South Minneapolis and always figured the Twin Cities would be my eventual landing spot. My Luther advisor told me to give Lanesboro a try for two years. Now, 10 years later, I’m glad I did! It proved a great fit. People were very friendly, inviting me over for dinner, movie nights, community sings, potlucks. It felt like home right away.”

Today, at the age of 30, Kara is Executive Director of Lanesboro Arts. It’s a position and a place that’s giving her the opportunity to do what she loves most – community-building.

“I love the feeling of people being and working together,” Kara says. “My greatest professional joy is collaborating with others, members of my team, people in Lanesboro, and with other connections I have. Everything I do is community-driven.”

One her major goals is to bring the skills and viewpoints of artists to the community table. “We’re all trying to succeed with limited resources,” she says. “And artists know all about that! They also contribute imaginative thinking, the ability to pivot, and a resiliency that comes from dealing with criticism and critique that helps everyone.”

Kara was raised in an active family, visiting museums, attending concerts, and enjoying the outdoors. Her parents were service-oriented, too, she says. “My dad volunteered at church, among other things. My mom – who’s also an artist – taught classes, created mural backdrops, and face-painted at festivals. They taught me community is important.”

Beyond her full-time work at Lanesboro Arts, Kara quickly jumped in to help with other community organizations. She joined the Lanesboro Area Chamber of Commerce board (which she now chairs), the Downtown Business Promotion Group, the Sons of Norway, the Blandin Community Leadership Program, and LEAN (Lanesboro Entrepreneurial Action Network). She’s served six years on the SEMAC (Southeastern Minnesota Arts Council) board and is part of RUX (the Rural Urban Exchange) based in Winona. In her “spare” time she coaches the Lanesboro Junior High track-and-field team, is a familiar face on the town’s pickleball court, and enjoys personal art projects like rosemaling. “Life does get busy!” Kara says with a laugh. “It’s about making time for priorities.”

And when a community is small enough to literally know everyone, there can be a unique set of challenges and competing thoughts on what should be top priority. “Sometimes we get in the weeds and have tough conversations. People have differing opinions; feelings can get hurt. When that happens it’s important to keep talking and working together.”

Being on the younger side of leadership can feel like a hurdle as well.

“I feel valued and listened to, but there are times when I sense I’m not the most visible person in the room,” she says. “I move past that by seeking conversations and commonality. People my age are eager to build community.”

She sees fellow millennials and younger generations creating space and change across the region, citing Decorah’s Pride Festival and a mental health fundraiser in Lanesboro as examples, both organized by folks with a mix of ages. Kara says it’s important to not get stymied by the often-slow pace of change that’s sometimes a reality in small towns. “We all get impatient at times,” she says. “It helps to remember that ‘change happens at the speed of trust’ and to ‘move slowly, with care.’”

But small towns can also prove that, when neighbors are in need, people come together. Showing up not only builds community, she says, it creates a powerful circle. “When you show up to volunteer at a cancer fundraiser, to usher at a community theater play, to deliver senior meals, you support others. People who do that get supported in return.”

One example of that support had a lasting impact on Kara’s commitment to her community. It happened on the evening of June 18, 2016, the day before “Art in the Park,” Lanesboro Art’s major annual festival. Volunteers showed up in Sylvan Park to set up. So did a fierce Midwest thunderstorm with high winds, heavy rain, and hail. Trees came down, a park shelter was destroyed, event decorations were in shambles. Kara, one of the staff members in charge of the event, was faced with the decision to cancel it.

As they discussed that option, people began showing up at the park to help clear debris. Despite clean-up tasks at their own homes, and working in the beam of car headlights, volunteers brought order to the chaos. Chainsaws buzzed into the night as downed trees and branches were hauled away. “We didn’t make phone calls, people just came,” Kara recalls. “The next day, the festival went off beautifully. But we couldn’t have done it without those generous volunteers.”

Kara thinks about the impact of that type of community care – and the impact she wants to have in the future – every day, every time she works to create space for members of her community. “However long I’m here, I want to help make our community an even more welcoming place. A place where people of all backgrounds feel they belong. A safe and inclusive place where everyone can contribute their gifts. That’s the legacy I hope to leave.”

No matter a town’s size or age of its people, community-building happens best in simple ways, says Kara. “It’s about building relationships. It’s about being curious and staying open-minded. Most of all, it’s about showing up.”

Steve Harris

Steve Harris (steveharrisauthor.com) is a freelance writer who lives in Lanesboro, Minnesota, and can be reached at sharris1962@msn.com.

In Laura Demuth’s cozy home, once a one-room schoolhouse, drapes woven in red, blue and tan cover closets and shelves; on walls, floors, chairs, and railings, woven coverlets and tapestries glow with geometric patterns or flowing designs of trees, leaves, and acorns.

Laura, whose last name is pronounced “DAY-mut,” is a weaver in the Norwegian folk tradition, a skill she has honed for four decades. She received a Gold Medal in Weaving in 2001 from the Vesterheim Norwegian-American Museum and Folk Art School in Decorah, and she has continued to grow her skills from there, constantly exploring new techniques and passing them along through her teaching.

A floor loom occupies her home’s front room. Next to it sits a spinning wheel where Laura produces yarn from the wool of her own flock of sheep (and once, a single cranky llama). In recent years, Laura has converted an upper room into another center for her creativity. A tapestry loom, tucked under a skylight, perfectly fills this space, where her current project is unfolding: a landscape featuring the Yukon River. In the tradition of billedvev (“picture-weaving”), Norway’s tapestry technique, the design is based on a photo taken by her daughter, Bathsheba Demuth, an environmental historian at Brown University who specializes in the Russian and North American Arctic.

Laura is improvising subtle layers of greens, browns, golds, and reds to recreate the scene. “This is a new thing for me,” she says. “I’m just making it up as I go along.”

According to Laura, this has been her approach to weaving and to life in general. No lifelong goals, no grand plans. “I’ve meandered,” she says wryly.

Weaving Her Own Way

Laura came to Decorah in 1976 to attend Luther College. Her life has been Decorah-centered ever since, but growing up, she moved a lot. Her father worked as a civil servant for the U.S. Army, and the family relocated every few years to multiple states as well as to France and Germany.

Laura finished high school in Hanau, Germany, where the post chaplain was a Luther College alumnus. On his recommendation, she applied to the college, and when Luther gave her the best financial aid package of the colleges she had applied to, she chose it.

At Luther, she encountered two important influences. Number one was her husband, Steve Demuth of Pipestone, Minnesota. They were married in 1978.

A philosophy major, Laura’s interest in ethics led her to the second important influence: the work of Mahatma Gandhi, to which spinning and weaving were integral. “It was the first time I heard of spinning,” Laura says. The idea of spinning yarn and thread by hand and weaving one’s own clothing stuck with her.

While living in married student housing at Luther, she bought a loom and took a weaving class in the art department. She had grown up embroidering, knitting, and sewing. But weaving was completely new to her. 

Meanwhile, Steve graduated. A math and physics major, he began working for Luther’s computer center while Laura worked on her degree. They both felt pulled to living in the country, though, so with only a semester of coursework left to go toward her BA, Laura dropped out. “It was a stupid thing to do,” she says. “But I had changed direction.”  

Initially, they lived on a friend’s farm, and she took her floor loom along. 

“I started weaving and making a lot of mistakes,” she says. She read books and magazines and got tips from fellow members of the Decorah Weavers Guild. 

When Bathsheba was two, the family moved to their current acreage, north of Decorah. Her son, Gabriel, was born four years later. Laura home educated the kids, while Steve worked for Seed Savers Exchange and then for Mayo Clinic, where he was chief technology officer. (Following in his father’s footsteps, Gabriel lives in Rochester, Minnesota, and works for Mayo Clinic as a statistician for health care research.)

Although Laura began weaving thinking she would earn money for the family, that idea fell by the wayside. She couldn’t imagine how much she would have to charge for the labor and the yarn that goes into her blankets and tapestries. 

“I didn’t see how hard it was going to be to sell things and make a living at it. I’m not an entrepreneur and not a salesman.”

Yet, she committed to a hand-woven life, nonetheless. Today, she says in wonder, “We bought 40 bred sheep when I was nine months pregnant. It was crazy!” These sheep were Corriedales, a New Zealand breed good for producing wool. Thus started a decades-long practice of shearing her own sheep, preparing the wool, and spinning her own yarn.

Eventually, they switched to a herd of Bluefaced Leicester, an English breed that is easy to handle and that has, in Laura’s words, “great fleece,” as well as working with that one temperamental llama – not so easy to handle. “She was a crank,” she says. “But now, I miss her.”

In the summer of 2023, the Demuths sold their sheep and llama. An adult Bluefaced Leicester weighs around 160 pounds, and they realized that shearing them had become too difficult. Laura misses her herd and expects they will acquire a smaller breed in the future.

She keeps pushing herself for two reasons, both ethical and educational.

“I think making your own clothing, or at least some aspect of your own clothing, can foster an appreciation for clothing itself; [it allows you] to gain some idea of the amount of labor and care and also intelligence that goes into clothing,” Laura says in a short documentary about her in Pioneer Public TV’s Postcards series. “It is actually a platform on which we can find expression and we can find joy.”

“Weaving has always been an intriguing problem. It’s a technical question that pushes your brain,” she adds. “It keeps you full with questions and possibilities.”

Vesterheim Connection

In 1993, Laura entered her weaving in the Vesterheim’s National Norwegian-American Folk Art Exhibition. This annual summer exhibition is designed to encourage and inspire folk artists to develop crafts rooted in Norwegian traditions.

The best pieces in the exhibition are recognized, and Laura won her first ribbon. “It was a double weave pick-up wall hanging that I made for my son,” she says. “He was very interested in the Vikings at the time, so the piece was filled with images of dragons, Viking ships, and runes.”

Laura started taking classes at the Vesterheim Folk Art School in 1998. “I knew the basic techniques, but not until I took classes at Vesterheim did I get better, because the teachers were masters,” she says. “They pointed me to the high-quality yarns, materials, and techniques.”

Her awards from the National Norwegian-American Folk Art Exhibition added up quickly, with ribbons in 1999, 2000, and the Gold Medal for Weaving in 2001. Only 25 gold medals for weaving have been awarded since 1982. She is highly respected among the local and regional community of weavers and has published in several magazines about weaving.

Teaching was the next obvious step, and for the past 20 years, Laura has taught weaving for Vesterheim’s folk art school. “Laura Demuth is a masterful artist and instructor,” says Andrew Ellingsen, director of folk art education. “When Vesterheim closed during the pandemic, Laura was one of the first instructors to take on the challenge of teaching folk art online. Whether she’s teaching online or in person, Laura celebrates and uplifts traditional Scandinavian weaving techniques while also bringing a warmth, a gentleness, and a calmness to the classroom. We are incredibly lucky to work with her!”

Finding and Giving Joy

In addition to becoming a master in Norwegian weaving, homeschooling her two children, and producing her own wool and yarn from her family’s flock of sheep, a visit to an open house at the Decorah Zen Center in 1999 started her journey to becoming a Zen Buddhist. She was ordained as a priest in 2013. “I’m this little mousy lady who lives in Iowa, and I have the chance to be a Zen Buddhist priest,” she marvels. “How weird is that?” She currently co-directs the Decorah Zen Center and assists with the practice and events at Ryumonji Zen Monastery, a training monastery in the Soto Zen tradition, in Allamakee County. And in 2006, she completed her bachelor’s degree in philosophy at Luther College after a decades-long hiatus. 

If creativity and joy was the goal, Laura Demuth’s art and life show that she’s still “meandering” steadily in that direction. She has woven a beautiful life.

“I like things that are difficult,” she says. “I like to solve puzzles.”

Her husband, Steve Demuth, remarks simply, “She is an inspiring person.”

Laura Barlament

Laura Barlament is the executive director of marketing and communications for Luther College. As a contributor to Inspire(d), she enjoys learning more about the vibrant tapestry of the Decorah community.