Often times, I make scrap journals for no particular reason, just for enjoyment of gathering interesting paper tidbits and ephemera which I enjoy… or in some cases, specific slices of inspiration which intrigue me for specific projects, remixes, or just recount times of life – what i was receiving or thinking about or even watching/reading/listening.
Sometimes a “theme” or story of some kind emerges – more like a thread of interconnectedness, whether content, medium, colour, aesthetic or tactility.
Presented here-in are two books which contain items which inspire or amuse me, connected by size, form, colour, theme or otherwise.
The first (named “Kindling & Matches, Tinder & Sparks”) is an accordion style book (a preferred format for these types) filled with beloved postcard &/or postcard-sized items. A few decorations on the cover (1970s era lettraset rub-off lettering, dried flower and my name clipped from a hospital envelope), inky stamps for easy identification.
The second (named “Dark Arts for Lighter Hearts”) has more variety of size and shape and contains a set for photos sent to me by a young artist named Simon among other objects d’art. Decorations include hotel luggage tag, insta-photo of a painting (self re-mix), snippet of poetry from a Lebanese wizard, and my name from a forgotten red-ink typewriter.
Explaining the obvious: I fill notebooks/journals of poetry, notes and musings (as well as scrapjournals which contain paper ephemera) and then transcribe (which no editing), then stash them into old-timey suitcase, which usually live in a storage locker faraway from where i physically exist.
I snap lil snaps of the cover before hibernation to remind myself of these lil tomes which remind me so much of where i was when the words were scribbled.
To prevent the snaps from vanishing into a folder (digital shoebox as it were), compilations ensue, placed into this archive for my reference, and for you to peek at if you have a notion.
Some of these have been shared previously somewhere maybe but who’s to say. Carry on.
Batch of scrapjournals hand-crafted during summer of 2019 whilst on Nusa Ceningan, Indonesia.
Featuring: covers made from vintage aerogrammes and hotel letterhead; binding covers of elephant dung paper and used envelopes; accessorizes of cookie fortunes, wax seals, cancelled postage stamps, eraser crafted ink stamps (and other inky stamps for that matter); hotel luggage tags; forged passports; printed Lomo sardine can camera 35 mm snaps; and various printed oddities – often leftover from other scrapbooks and places of comfort and inspiration (see: Wonder Hotel).
Made with Japanese-style side binding, sewn with hearty thread via 3 holes drilled through a mighty block of various paper stock acquired at random intervals around Bali.
To be filled with anything desired by recipient. Scissors and glue provided separately.
“I see a vision of a great rucksack revolution thousands or even millions of young Americans wandering around with rucksacks, going up to mountains to pray, making children laugh and old men glad, making young girls happy and old girls happier, all of ’em Zen Lunatics who go about writing poems that happen to appear in their heads for no reason and also by being kind and also by strange unexpected acts keep giving visions of eternal freedom to everybody and to all living creatures.”
What follows are public telephones created in a time when phones did not roam freely and in pockets.
To make a call, one would either enter a specially-created booth (or box), or simply stand close by as the receivers were tethered to the phone unit by a short cord, then insert a variety of coins depending on the location called (local, domestic or international) or in some cases, use a purpose-made phone card, or even a credit card (though doing so often exposed one to fraudulent actors).
Perhaps you have already imagined the unsanitary nature of sharing a phone handset (placed next/close to ear and mouth of course) with strangers – though perhaps this increased “herd immunity” despite being rather unpleasant. Note that oftentimes the coin return slots were checked for forgotten change but the miner was surprised to find discarded chewing gum, or even-less-savoury items, instead.
This gallery is primarily Japan phone – both current working payphones, hotel house phones, house landlines, antique non-working artifacts and one from Indonesia, captured “in the wild”.