Still life with postcards, inky stamps, cup of tea, bowl of nuts / was making up for some poor decisions at the time by (trying to) spread love out into the world. Hope it worked. Did you receive one of these treats?
PS I enjoy this sort of activity on many levels for sure, i.e.: find playing with scissors and glue and pens very pleasant and, like the thought of spreading a little bit of goodness to various places around the world and, going to the post office gives me a little manageable errand.
I have a hard time getting “out and about” and really have to minimize screen time so this allows me to communicate and create and keep my brain active.
In these dossiers, i included prints of my paintings, bits of poetry, various insta snapshots, and letters on expired aerograms etc.
Enjoy the goodness / (of course) my address is available and you can sign up for Postal Club. I hope you hang on your fridge or put in a shoebox.
Wasn’t allowed into the birthing clinic appointment today due to the fcking “situation* so sat outside and scribbled a few postcards (yes of course i had my kit with me) #postaltherapy
Note: packages cannot be sent to/received from overseas – and, as i understand, cards and letters are all going by sea due to lack of commercial flights which contract to transport mail. Ugh. Continue reading Diary: Hospital Blues/ Postal Therapy→
Scrapbook: Wonder Hotel / rejuvenations, inspirations + amusements (2018), cover
I make scrapbooks and journals for all sorts of reasons, sometimes for my own creations and writing, sometimes for specific project and in this case, for inspiration or dareisay therapy.
Background: I was having hard go of it in life or whatever and moved into a very small room at a boarding-house-type place. While basic, i quite loved having a place which kept me safe and allowed me rest. Reminded me a sign i saw in Vancouver for the “Wonder Hotel – Rooms for Rent – Clean, Quiet, Free Cable, Fridge, Secure” – all the attributes this Ankangan Guesthouse possessed.
Disappearing, invisibility, loneliness, depression, anxiety, being lost, trying to not be found, trying to find white space to invigorate… Sometimes these weave together, other times (perhaps) each remain exclusive.
Gord Downie, Jack Kerouac, Charles Bukowski and me all try to figure out the nuance in different ways atop Turkish street music, trains from Kerala and Moncton, and various ephemeral music snippets.
Note: Also available in audio-only via all normal podcast channels and elsewhere in this library.
Disappearing, invisibility, loneliness, depression, anxiety, being lost, trying to not be found, trying to find white space to invigorate… Sometimes these weave together, other times (perhaps) each remain exclusive.
Gord Downie, Jack Kerouac, Charles Bukowski and me all try to figure out the nuance in different ways atop Turkish street music, trains from Kerala and Moncton, and various ephemeral music snippets.
My dear counsellor – who helped me so very much when “the wheels fell off” with sickness, death, career disruption, and finding new self with advice about letting go and floating – is travelling, writing, meditating, learning, giving… all over.
Tip 3 for beating the blues: cappuccino and a desk full of stationery and postcards, Sending treats to friends and strangers hoping it will transmit a virtual hug, via Airmail.
Today’s batch includes Latvia, Singapore, Olympia, Logan, Mexico and who knows where else… Oh and also Provo, Norman (place not person), Coquitlam, Kelowna…
How are you feeling? Do you need a treat? If so, fill out the “postal club” form.
