Saturday, September 12, 2015

A Saturday Evening Post

I rolled out of bed thinking it was Friday. Luckily for me there were photographs aplenty for this day's post, otherwise, this post would be Sunday's. Or next Saturday's. And yet, here I be. Just you and me. Sitting here communicating like leaves on a tree. I'll be the first one to fall off. Just you wait and see!

Change is in the air! My desktop image needed to get on board. So after a good seventeen minutes of indecision, it went from cool summer blue to you see who. Even with the drapes drawn I get to visualize the greens of willow, plush grass, dense foliage, and dark oak leaves, but nothing orange or hot or red. All I see is green when I look at my screen. Screen readily rhymes with green. What did you expect? I'm no Eratosthenes. My sieve keeps most of what's left of my limited poetic vocabulary; very little slips through. Thank you, friend Patty. (wink, wink, blink, grin)

A letter partially written with green ink made it to my mail box. I heeded my intuition and drove all the way to the post office. Am ever so glad I did. Pardon me for not bringing my stylist with me. I should have arranged it to show the actual contents on my own. I'm talking nine letters, three postcards, three business letters, two pieces of junk mail addressed to box holder, a fine magazine, and a package with some of the best paper pretties a limner could hope for! See my Mars? The red planet. Hahahahaha! Oh, my goodness gracious! Everyone should have such mail. I will send a wish note to the Mail Fairy. In it I will ask that everyone who reads this post be granted twice as much lovely mail as came to me this time. I tell you, bread cast upon the waters does come back buttered toast. My pen friends are better than your pen friends. No. That's not right. Y'all are my pen friends. Thank you for being.

Still and all, I could lick the ink off these space cards! Mars was accompanied by Pluto and Europa! I do like a fine ad campaign. Expect scanned or photographed images of each. Europa boasts:  Wake up without aging a day! Europa Air is "your link to Jupiter." Way, way, way cool, good Randall. Wait until you see their destiny. You know how you save stuff, and after you tire of those who love you asking, "What on earth are you going to do with all this junk?" the best ideas just come to you--seemingly out of thin air? That always happens to me. If I died yesterday, and they embalmed me the following day, I'd have to be buried or cremated, or set under that tree on the body farm with a bag of creative supplies clenched in both fists, or I'd come back and haunt the heck out of everyone who didn't think to fix me up like that. Oh. Add two gourds. At least. And my Dremel tools. 

Sometimes you wish you were cloned, but then you wonder what you'd do if you didn't like the other you, and you make do. Like now. Made the first of these a long time ago for Misty. I shipped it in a box my giant sheets of watercolor paper were stored in. The second such creation hangs on a wall in the office of someone I admire more than I admire Eratosthenes. This third canvas was meant to go with it, but it never felt quite finished. 

The Y has fallen away from July but 2013 sticks steady like Ready Freddy. Perhaps the Y is stuck on the box that sat atop . . . I don't want to believe I gave up on this enough to put a box on top. But I did. 

Life is stages I'm going through. Not a stage. I went through a stage when I meant to paint with acrylics again. Wait. If life comes in acts, and we are actors on life's stage, then maybe life really is a stage I'm performing on, only to pass over the boards I tread. Oh, goodness. Hope springs eternal in an artist's heart. Acrylics made me break out in hives back in art school, but I was good at painting. No, I'm not bragging. I've never used oils in my life though. That turpentine just about kills me, and I am not an artist who's willing to die for her work. I'm not into starving either. So, since I had several canvases that needed to be used as more than dust catchers, I caught and held onto the idea of recycling. I simply grabbed hold of the idea as it circled my pate, examined every part, and then got busy. I hope you like the following close-ups.

 The overlay bears lovely words and definitions. The reed is an actual reed taken from a spent bouquet I was on the verge of tossing into the composter. Lucky it, huh?

Please forgive any and all duplicates. I tried to show the possibilities postcard-by-postcard. Good Times? A good time can be had every day, often without even trying.

I hope you'll try this wonderful and creative way to make art for someone's wall--perhaps your own--and make batches of postcards after you're done! I've sent some your way and you never even knew. It's a fine way to use up some of that stuff you're accused of hoarding. You'll also tell a story. Every little bit you attach means something. It means something to you or to the recipient. And don't forget to sign your canvas after you're done. An artist's work is never finished unless there's a signature. And a date. Show some love. Make art! Make mail. Print an image and turn it into an envelope! Send me one of your postcard? Pretty please?

I'll show you something else tomorrow. Wait! But first . . .

I have given up on smelly mail. Please, please, please, do not send scented mail my way. Hand lotions, perfumes, perfumed pages from magazines you turn into envelopes . . . All that makes me ill. Have you ever had to use an EpiPen? Imagine having to carry one with you where ever you go, or having to wear a medical alert bracelet because your airway shuts down. It can happen quicker than you think. Your face swells, your eyes, lips, nostrils . . . People do die from asthma. So, from now on, if you send scents, I won't even bring your mail inside my home. Until today I've actually read it on the patio wearing an expensive face mask and gloves. I've tried reading it through a Zip Lock Baggie. Some of the new printing inks get to me too, so it's not only man-made scents and perfumes. I don't mind plain old not-so-fancy letters. Honest. Just no more scents, okay? It took me three days to get over the last attack. It happened again today, and the scent was so strong it contaminated the letter on top of it. The smell sticks to my hands, my clothes . . .

On a lighter note, I am seriously thinking of investing in Kleenex. I use enough of it! I do like their new packaging though! Don't you? And just imagine what we can do with the empties come the holidays! P.S. They take up less desk and nightstand space too.

Have a great wheezing-less weekend! And thanks for all the awesome mail!!! Reciprocity is fun! Stay tuned!


  1. oh sorry you are sick and yes I have the same problem don't send me any perfumed pages either I get migraines from them . yes I do know and have an epi pen and it is a god send . I hope you get over this spell soon dear great mail day take care and blessings over you .

    1. Ah! A fellow sufferer! You know how miserable it feels, and how it takes a while to get over being ill. Empathy makes sympathy look anorexic, doesn't it? :) I tire of having to use chemicals to help me breathe, and no amount of mail is worth an asthma attack. 99% of the mail sent is good, healthy mail, and no one knowingly sends the dangerous kind. Forewarned is still forearmed to help people like us. Pet dander is another problem. It's rare but I get sick at least twice a year from my friend and neighbor who give doggy hair hugs. He flings himself at me before I can distract him. :) He has asthma now, so his parents got rid of seven of their eight dogs, then adopted the neighbor's. LOL.

      Thanks for your good wishes. Be well.

      Um, have you ever tried to bathe a cat? Is best to start them off when they are kittens. :)

  2. Caution: long comment follows.
    Well! I see what happens when I go to work for a few days without checking the mailbox! My dear Limner, I sit here with a pile of beautiful treasures form you and my brain is already scheming what I can do with all of the lovely paper sent my way. A reply is on the blotter for my Sunday things I want to do. Not things I have to do, thats almost everyday. Of course writing with the lovely fountain pen will be one of my joys of today!!
    Ah yes, scented paper...there is nothing that irks me more than a great magazine smelled up by some god awful perfume sample. I remember my Grandma used to have that paper in drawers that was suppose to smell like 'summer fields' or some other thing that doesn't smell ANYTHING like what it's supposed to. It just smelled like baby wipes or diapers to me. Hope the lavender sachet wasn't one of THOSE things.
    Have a most wonderful Sunday...Love the collage of much to say, so much to say...

    1. Aw, Kerry, long comments are good comments, in my book. :) You got them! It sure took awhile. Never mind. I hope you will have a little paper fun, and my fingers are crossed that you will be amused by the little drawing pen I often use for writing.

      If I subscribe to a magazine that has scents I write to ask for the unscented version. Poor Grandma. LOL! Seems no one is satisfied with natural scents these days. The Febreeze car rentals use to de-stink their cars sent me to the emergency room once. Those things shut down our tastebuds, which transport scents to our nasal passage, and replace them with overwhelming man-made smells. I hate those commercials that convince people to buy Febreeze to get rid of their doggy smells, smelly tennis shoes, cooking odors and other "noxious" odors with their product. Not every smell is offensive. If they are, clean your house. Why mask the scent of a litter box? Clean it! If Simon and Minuet's bedding smells of cat saliva, I wash it. Ad agencies has us convinced that our natural world is all wrong and bad for us. The average person buys into it. Imagine buying something advertised as having a fresh clean outdoor smell, when it's chemicals in a dryer sheet. No wonder so many people need allergy shots.

      The natural lavender scents sent me to the sun and back! I love natural. :))) I miss such lovely smells. You and Randall made me so happy with the real deal, and I did not have even a hint of an allergic reaction. I cannot take aspirin or ibuprofen either. Here's a funny, and then I'll move on: Large hives nearly shut my right eye once and my bottom lip was swollen really bad. I had to wear long sleeves for almost a week. Our neighbor thought I was an abused wife! She believed I wore long sleeves to hide bruises! :)

      Thank you! I have had a wonderful Sunday for real. It's been a perfect day. I hope yours was even better.

  3. Hello!!! I came over from Pam blog. Looks like you get plenty of mail. I to send letters though postal service.
    Coffee is on

    1. Hey peppylady. Thanks for stopping by. This is my third attempt to respond. Blogger does not want to play well with me lately. I hope this takes from iPad. Be well.