In October 2005, it was time once again for the prestigious St.James Art Fair to be held over the course of a weekend in Louisville's swanky "Old Louisville" district. A growing trend for kids, punks and hipsters was to thumb their nose at the fair's snobby society-lady scene by holding the "St.James Un-Fair" on the periphery of the grounds. I decided I would choose neither side, preferring as always to stay above the entire equation. While everyone else baked in the sun, tethered to their tables like vendors at a flea market, I would wander about both fairs at will, hawking my goods like a roving "Cigarette Girl". But what kind of art to sell? It had to be something small and lightweight which I could lug around in some meaningful quantity. I opted for a scattershot, quick and dirty approach: one evening in my Butchertown studio, armed with hundreds of hastily cut-up postcard-size pieces of a particular type of mailer-insert cardboard known as 'chipboard' and a 4-pack of Duvel's Belgian Ale, I leaped into a marathon all-nighter session of creation. Just as with my Window Comics installation, I set my brain on autopilot and drew/painted whatever popped into my cabeza. As the hours wore on, my synapses fired even more irrationally, not so much because of the Duvel's but because of the fumes of the Sharpie markers. They're noxious to most people but I have a particular sensitivity to their toxic scent. When I awoke the next afternoon, the studio was littered with over three hundred of these cards, half of which I had absolutely no memory of creating. The cards - "Crispy Cards", I call them - were a surprising success that weekend, selling both to the Un-Fair hipster kids as well as the St.James oldsters. I especially had luck with tourists who didn't quite know how to say no to a crazy man who walks right up to you and shouts "Hey LADY! Wanna buy a drawing of Colonel Sanders' HEAD in a jar of FORMALDEHYDE?? It's a Jeffrey Scott Holland ORIGINAL!" I imagined them driving back to Massachusetts saying "Gosh, Martha, authentic folk art from a Kentucky hillbilly. These could be worth something someday like, you know, the guy who did that R.E.M. album cover." I do a "Crispy Card" session about three times a year now, and they remain among my most popular items. God knows why.