Tag Archives: HandwrittenLetters

Post’d: Griffin & Sabine books, essay magazines and ‘the usual’

My intrepid wife did a big service this morning by swinging by the post office (i’d written this lil poem of concern):

Letters and packages
Ready since Monday
Post office tomorrow, maybe

Meanwhile: laundry to fold

Being an angel, she even did the stamps wonderfully and arranged a photo with the addresses discreetly disguised.

Includes: 3 more copies of beloved “Griffin and Sabine” book off to friends in Mexico, Vancouver and Prince Edward County – meant to inspire youth & olds alike making 9 copies of Nick Bantock’s beauty sent so far this run.

The book/series combines art in the form of handcrafted, postcards, variety of handwriting, styles, custom-made stamps –both ink and postal – and a narrative with switches between realms, realities, possibly time traveling, geographic locations / both real and fictional.

You can imagine why this is very much my style. And, I’ve had the pleasure of spending time with the author/artist on several occasions, including on the recent trip, and own many of his books (in English and Japanese), a couple of prints, personalized postcards and letters, and even originals from the book. Yep.

IsDave & WasNick, Victoria 2023

As an aside: introducing youth to books that are enjoyable, mixed media, stretch their possibilities, and even tactile is so important. Though I loved reading from a young age, the books assigned throughout junior / high school were insufferable and I know turned so many off. I made a list of examples if you would like me to include it here:

{Insert odd/curious/underwhelming assigned reading selections here for curiosity seekers}

There are also some signed magazines (with my essay), a custom artwork piece (made from an immigration card), a few postcards etc. in the bundle.

Good luck on your journey sweet dispatches!

this weary standard-issue postbox doesn’t really have anything to do with the above but noticed it from the van window while at a konbini, clearly dealing with sun stroke and loneliness

Post’d: dispatches for “world postcard day” a bit late but hey…

A step behind for #WorldPostcardDay but hey, grapes and turmeric tea on a bamboo bed desk, scribbling up handmade/printed Postcards to pals (met and not yet) in Sussex UK, Torrey (Utah), St John’s (AZ not NL), and various points around the region currently known as British Columbia.

Yes, that’s me with the beard, Richard Brautigan’s book of poetry, my own poetry postbox, and Don Mee dim sum in Victoria.

So very fondly, sent with affection (and decorated with inky & postal stamps)

Post’d: figuring *it* out with coffee & cards

Trying to find my… I don’t know next path/ purpose/ quest… or just getting my “sea legs“ back under me.

A month and a half after the BCInvasion & i am still physically, mentally, and – especially emotionally – drained.

(Reminding myself that yes, you are dealing with a chronic and complex illness which, despite all kinds of recent attention, really doesn’t have a pathway forward as of yet so i continue to experiment blah blah blah) #MECFS

Everything with my wonderful wife and darling son is great, i’m getting all sorts of medical care, my immigration status will eventually get sorted out… but for whatever reason, feeling lost, depleted, disoriented, and very very blue.

So after a seitai treatment and a conversation with the kindly doctor, snuck into a quirky, jazz-filled and calm coffee shop called Gloss and went back to my usual therapy routine of simultaneously hydrating and caffeinating while writing a variety of postcards to folks i know, folks don’t know, folks who have sent kind things to me, folks who need a kind word and whatnot.

I’ll be all right eventually, just need to lay flat for a long while, yet there is always something that needs done, logistically or otherwise.

Now I will ride Shinogoze bus / I had a nice talk with master at Gloss. Maybe he can be my friend

Bonus: quick snapshots of the postcards just dropped in the mailbox (while returning with my squadron of companions realized I forgot a couple but hey… im *trying*) – anyhow, i often take snapshots of the fronts and backs for my own archival inconvenience as well as a digital back-up in case the cards don’t arrive but never really get far down that road – yeah i make lists and keep logs of letters sent and received and then immediately forget where aforementioned lists exists.

Off the bus, heading back home to figure “it” out… wearing the same inadequate boots which clomped me around the Himalayan trails towards Annapurna… intrepid beats expensive when used correctly (or some such)

Post’d: a batch of postcards to shake to question marks (about concussion & pineal)

I’ve scribbled up a batch of postcards, both foreign and domestic. This is hardly new or surprising yet, in a rare instance, words elude me, and a great feeling of overwhelming malaise grips me.

{As it goes, the brain is a tricky organ to sort out that there’s really no reason for my semi annual existential crisis or consortium of conundrums. As it goes, I have a beautiful and brilliant wife, a wonderful and growing son, a safe and quirky home, a barn studio full of artifacts and projects, food in the garden and fridge.}

Optional digression: When it’s all “in the thick of it” you run down all the different scenarios / you see, I worked hard on building up all the good things reco’d to do; playing in the garden, exploring hobbies (plenty!), connecting with people, cuddling and hugging when possible (in a country where cuddling and hugging is not really much of a thing but anyway), diligent self-care, hot springs, rest, meditation of all sorts, avoiding news & screens… (except this present moment, ha).

Plus getting treatments from a wise and wonderful seitai sensei who is unlocking all kinds of neurological blockages (much residual from a car accident Christmas Eve 1988 in Jerome Idaho) which produces a near psychedelic experience which inadvertently includes tremendous floods memories long-forgotten or sequestered in someway, bound up in neurological and muscle knots in various parts of my body. It’s hard to explain except the pathways become smoother But darn it’s a bit of a rocky road to get there.

Anyhow, also exploring the effects of various concussions: there were four for sure in a three-year stretch (the vespa crash in Vancouver, then Pacifica California, Adelaide Australia, and outside of Chiang Mai Thailand) all generally untreated but definitely lingering effect, does that play a part? (Aside: all broke my super expensive prescription glasses as well as face – 3 if 4 landed on same right side of head).

And then comes question of performance / calcification of the pineal gland which controls/produces/releases dopamine, serotonin, melatonin etc. but, can get a bit stuck in the aftermath of medications and while I am very lightly medicated now, in the *early days* this was definitely not the case and there was also some self-medication going on while (too rapidly) tapering down from the heavy duty assortment of SSRIs, opiates, benzos, anti-spasmodic and other devious medications.

Finally was the cryptic diagnosis of bipolar disorder (if a 14 page fax report can be considered cryptic) from a psychiatric doctor with freshly hanged degrees from Stanford in an office which seem to have been popped up for a movie set or a prank the night before. Yes, the (snotty & snooty) report came at a very bad time, with no follow up care offered or provided by the medical system in the jurisdiction where I lived at the time.

Soon afterwards, at reco of an NPO brain clinic, I checked myself into a psychiatric ward which turned out to be a colossal mistake including a dangerous escape/exit in a sweaty white V-neck clutching a backpack rushing into the midnight of Victoria, completely confused, shaking and with absolutely no support from the people who should be trained to do the support. Yes, there are emotional scars from this yet I don’t feel like this is part of the current bout of depression.

Rather, I think my body has improved and changed really so much since starting at the Okayama University Hospital program that my brain is having a hard time catching up, so much new information coursing around, I am walking better than I have in 10 years, I carry my child on my shoulders, I move things around the garden, I’m up out of bed most every day for a while at least where this used to be definitely not the case.

I’ve learned to listen to my body and my body is telling me there’s something wrong with the physical part of my noggin which then affects the mental part. Does that make sense? It doesn’t to me except for the part where it does.

All I want is to be better each day for myself, for my darling wife, for my remarkable son and to be capable of the creations I will make in the future (yes, much of me wants to make everything, so many things, starting tomorrow but there’s something about putting on your own oxygen mask first or putting the foundation under the castles you’ve built in the air).

I’m taking the time to solve the problems out. I am safe.

So I start rebuilding from the foundation of: fold laundry, wash dishes, make tea and rice, and then write postcards to express gratitude and other varied emotions.

I’ll disappear again – surface from time to time while i figure out *what comes next* (note to self: the answer is obviously “nothing”) #LayFlat

Anyhow, I hope one of these postcards is for you.

Post’d: well-franked from Wales, Portugal and Gifu + India returned

Quite an assortment in the Post box yesterday:

that right there is a beautiful quartet

1) postcard of painting of a postbox from Wales with a commemorative Queen Elizabeth 2 Memorial franking & 3 language Air Mail seal

2) postcard from a dear correspondent in Gifu who’s postmaster always does a fantastic cancellation stamp (subject matter: motels around the world)

3) big envelope with collage art from Portugal with a fantastic oversize 4£ portfolio style stamp

4) a postcard i mailed to India that sadly, was returned because “mail to this region is not currently possible“ – keeping it on standby in the meanwhile