The Pinata Project is the culmination of hopes and dreams that can only transpire over many, many pints.
If you want to know how two normal people could possibly conceive of an idea this brilliant you should probably read the story here (spoiler alert – alcohol may have been involved).
If you’re more interested in the people behind the project, well you’ll have to make do with the info below. We’ve tried our best to make it informative, yet ridiculous.
ABOUT HEATHER
Heather’s pinata experience is limited to a traumatic incident at her fifth birthday party which led to several years of therapy before this project even began. She thought she was being a smart-ass when asked about her goals for 2014 and listed off “more pinatas” not realizing that she’d be held accountable for her boozy ramblings.
She’s passionate about wine, running, digital marketing, and travel. She’d pick teleporting over time travel (obviously) and wishes that pizza was a “superfood”. She has reservations about a monthly party devoted to violent candy acquisition, but has decided to “give up candy on Monday”.
Her other New Year’s resolutions are slightly more responsible and include: reading a book per month, keeping a gratitude journal, making wine that is nearly drinkable, and pursuing a medley of international shenanigans.
Heather tweets random musings and cat videos under her real name. Follow her @heatherilsley but only if you appreciate truly “valuable content”.
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ABOUT DEREK
Piñatas exist at the intersection of Art, Engineering, Sport, and Food. Make stuff, solve problems, bash things, eat. DNA has us hard wired. This is science.
The foundations were there from childhood. Doodle Art, Lite Brite, Lego, Meccano, soccer, hockey, football. Dad had a restaurant, and we learned to love food. This is inevitability.
We were there for the kids. Truly. Because I never drink. So the eggnogs are going down pretty easy, and the piñata thing comes up, and we’d been thinking about a blog anyway, and it all seemed to make a lot of sense. This is serendipity.
Now here we are, elbow-deep in flour glue and newspaper strips, wondering if the dollar store carries googly eyes.
Let’s see what happens.
