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!