Not all prophets write on the subway cars…
Some of these notes are truth – indeed not all #prophets write on the subway cars, some choose cardboard or other substrates yet the medium & message are equally compelling the message is the medium.
Another batch of dispatches underway. Handwriting still lousy but sentiments still true. Also must commend self of exceptional quality & variety in stationary (nice one daveo, thank dave) – this is my #therapy on quest for #reinvention & #reincarnation .
Often times, I make scrap journals for no particular reason, just for enjoyment of gathering interesting paper tidbits and ephemera which I enjoy… Then somehow a “theme” or story of some kind emerges. Especially after being stuck/fermenting in a suitcase for months or years, as soon as I open a booklet of artifacts, so many memories return. Some of you might see oddities in here wish you recognize and enjoy as well presented in a different context.
++ Continued Exploits and Dispatches from one Thor Aronson ++
Over a week now in Istanbul, just waiting for evidence his quarry was here, or had stopped through at least. But, not a lead until a well-bribed cleaner a 4th floor walk-up hotel sent word (through contacts at the port) of a passport matching his vague description.
“A Canadian?” thought Thor, “they’re not even their own damn country! Just another dominion of the damn British!”
A closer look revealed his Greek heritage which indicated he had at least two passports to travel under. The stamp s showed a circuratous route through various Mediterranean, Levant and Baltic enclaves.
Yet “Gus” is no TE Lawrence or even Wilfred Thesinger, no way he could be rambling through these remote places without assistance from a fluent Arabic speaker, various fixers and sea captains. But still, Thor was at least a step behind… if not more.
With myriad ships going in and out of the gateway to Europe and Asia, he could be just about anywhere, but most definitely he was at sea as the rail lines were still rebuilding from frequent bombings, likely effectuated by those nefarious Brits.
No matter, after contacting an inside source at the Canadian Consulate (of course sequestered down a hallway at the UK embassy) Thor knew the passport was a fake, and even the name might not be accurate, but… The face was definitely the mug he was after.
Thor sat down stone steps between the grand souk and the blue mosque, lit a cigar and waited for another smoke signal. If he was careless to leave the passport behind in the hotel safe, no doubt something else would emerge. The bribes were paid, the photo circulated and soon Gus would tip another card. Inhaling deeply, Thor mattered, “fucking Canadians, when will they get it together and become their own country?”
I enjoy ordering from moo.com for mini “friendship” cards and luxurious postcards. The paintings turn out great and the “static montage” collages are sharp as well. Do you wanna Moo? I can help you and you can get $15 off your first order.
Not too many mixed media masters creating ephemera-laden epistolary literature weaving intriguing mysterious relationships, international intrigue, and postcards. That gets a smile out of this lad – still with a heavy heart. I took my mom’s copy of his book “Griffin and Sabine” and he provided a most wonderful signature with stamps of various kinds. Such healing and respect. More to share about encounters with this gent.
Compiled during a lost period, the memories of which are as foggy and blurry as the snaps as i wandered places as cursively sloppy as the scribbles within. Remnants of medical appointments, medications schedules, mail ordered items, lists, journals, poetry, dreams, nightmares and talismans of hoping for peace and healing or just rest or maybe contentment.
The book itself is my “usual style” of a board game backer board, calendar paper front cover (Audrey Hepburn obv) and a variety of heavy stock sewn within using a Japanese sidebinding style.
Also coasters, cards, travel/ticket stubs and oddments to help retrace steps like paper breadcrumbs. Seems a wander from Washington to Oregon to Pacifica (CA) with sojourns to Logan (UT) and Austin (TX). I recall fleeting snippets and folks whom i am grateful to.