To remind and inspire myself, i often photograph envelopes before they embark on their journey. The fronts contain folks’ personal address (which i shoot to keep a record i never actually look back upon to recall who i’ve mailed) so i shan’t share that bit, but i will gallery up the backs – really for no purpose, just for amusement and artsy funtimes.
This batch are under-stated (made in Penang, Malaysia to transport watercolour pictograms) hearty manila card-sized and adorned with new-that-day inky stamps proclaiming various instructions or attributes, along with my distinctive seal of approval.
The folks at Moo.com make lovely postcards as well as greeting cards and “friendship” cards (though i suppose could be used for your business-type introductions as well). One of the great aspects –along with the exceptional quality – is you can choose a different “front” for each in the batch of 100. In other words: all the same on the back, all different on the front. Can upload images via Flickr or directly (and other ways too).
Anyhow, this is batch of postcards, received in June 2015, was made with my collections of art on the front including the “Gravelly Beach” series, static montage, global rambles and so on. They were quickly written upon and/or shared in other ways. You can get a special deal on shipping and help me keep up my postcards habit but ordering via my magic Moo.com affiliate link.
Embarking on meandering natural healing journey around Asia, Indian sub-continent, Arabia, Mediterranean, across Canada, US rocky mountain canyons, and to Grateful Dead anniversary shows while emerging from a fog after chronic and complex illness diagnosis resulting in lost years due to prescription meds.
Now, rebuilding after period of de-identification, I’m sharing stories into the world again – plus riffs about upcoming dispatches, other audio/video projects, annoyance about former prosecutors / cops / “carpetbaggers” getting into nascent legal cannabis industry… and hence, the importance of recognizing hemp pioneers.
Background soundscapes from a balcony in Istanbul, trail in Nepal, cafe in Rome, Whiskey Hickon Boys (from Utah) in Chicago and others in Grateful Dead lot + Lazarus by The Black Tories.
And i misspoke saying “Desolation Row” when i obviously meant “When i Paint my Masterpiece” – drrr
Drawing Room, Sunday
Find me in the drawing room
At the Majestic Hotel
Hot toddy made with
The second-finest single malt
Curl smoke from roughest Beedies
Rather than clumsy cigars
Red velvet belted robe
Replaces the glen plaid
Hung behind the hardwood high back
The barman named Sunday
I tell him the day i was born
6:45AM if i recall Mother’s story
However unnecessarily, continue to explain,
I’m not sure exactly
Of the time in Kuala Lumpur or
Kinchasa where his family waits for
Remittance he exchanges as salve for
Pain of separation and expectation
And aching tolerance of the unroyal man
Who explains old culture and
Stumbling billiards to all within
Without hint of invitation, irony
Or a scrap gentle restraint
Telegrams re-mixed for a un-modern, post-forgotten age. Water coloured with paints from a dollar store > cryptic messages scribbled fountain pen > inky stamps applied appropriately > chopped with tiny scissors > glued > addressed > mailed to magic makers worldwide > digitized for your possible convenience, enjoyment and/or pleasure.
I walked across the border, a confusing frontier, from Thailand to Malaysia and now sit at a train station – so alone – waiting to be whisked southwards – deliberately ignoring any detail, plan or expectation. Drifting, floating, swept away to elsewhere, savouring deliberate pages while stroking my beard with Viking oil.
Now in Penang, Malaysia… i came to there by a train to Butterworth (sadly devoid of pancakes), lurched by my boots aboard a ferry (which missed you mostly but i snapped the van Gogh green ceiling of metal paint), then wandered to a colonial outpost — now a mix ethnicities and religions – skipped the temples and went to a dusty stationery store to acquire dried-out stamps with barely useful phrases, watercolour paper, scissors / glue, envelopes and and stamps / all so sumptuous.
Post office frolic and then early morning to Bangkok then to Kathmandu! Dream of my youth when in a tent reading exploits of mountaineers and Sherpa tigers and Yeti.
Now in a vast room with a balcony and yellow walls, i transcribe from journals so i can mail them elsewhere (though i do plan to return, i am not committed to t he plan) and lighten load (i am carrying 4 notebooks at this point).
Listening to Jerry Garcia and only missing one thing. No, i have tea so that’s not it. Guesses?