Incoming

[David Stafford]

In my continuing effort not to get behind here's another blogathon for the last two or three week starting with:

This is the envelope Taidgh sent me his work in, embellished with the colorful creatures that leap out of his pencils. I've said before that Taidgh's work reminds me of the Chicago school that flourished in the late 1960s but inside were...words...pages and pages of written text, including a long screed from Shelly Appleton who I will deal with privately and a sheet of lovely poems that Taidgh wrote. Here's one:

Once

The sky darkened,

and the stars gathered,

as we sifted through dirt and fragments,

carefully uncovering a man

quiet and skeletal,

fragile fingers sharp as little arrows,

and thin curled toes.

With a skull shaped like the moon.

We knelt, picking our minds

for information

wondering who this man was

and where he hunted food.

Travelling with no roads

or  maps as guides

only the stars.

Taidgh's poetry has a sort of anthropological feel to it, as though he were excavating lost civilizations. I liked getting a letter and poetry...thanks, Taidgh.

Suus in Mokum sent me this exquisite mandala which was made by catscanning an easter egg or maybe this is the moon coming up in the dark sky of tripping Amsterdam. It could also be a glimpse down a spiral staircase after a bump on the head or it may be the genetic code of something found at the bottom of the Marianas Trench. Thank you, Suus.

I've been sending Carina Granlund mini-mysteries and now she has reciprocated.

This is called "Slowly but surely she walked away and never looked back," A hand-painted photo exploding with vibrant, saturated colors. Although I imagine the picture is old (the men are wearing hats, the woman has a 60s do) it looks current because of that familiar body curl of cell phone revery. The curl that chiropractors probably already have a name for. Her envelope shows a picture of me in traditional Finnish drag which, let me tell you, is probably the hardest drag to pull off. My fingers are still numb from the embroidery. Thank you, Carina.

Dean had some free time on his ferry ride to the British Isles and so he decided to destroy a few books. What can I say? This is who Dean is. However, this time around, Sir Cecil Pulphead, a member of the Royal British Academy, caught him ripping the cover off a perfectly good copy of "Now We Are 62," a popular children's book. Pulphead lunged to save the book but at the last minute Dean pulled back and Pulphead went over the side. His mission fail was my gain though I am sorry the text didn't make the journey. Two summers ago I went to a book sale in Dixon, New Mexico. I bought a bunch of books with the express purpose of wrecking them and I have to say, years of reverence for a hardbound book is a tough habit to break even when the book is more suited for long distance travel than reading. Thank you, Dean.

Angie sent me this lively animalistic card straight outta the Veldts of Wisconsin. Angie's diving deep into her Sliced Landscape Series. Here, the view from her window in Port Washington is layered with gazelles drinking, forest and prairie. In the foreground, a prehistoric Corgi lopes toward the viewer in search of a kibbled snack. Thank you, Angie.

Svenja Wahl's collage is all about the distance men have to go in letting go of the perks of patriarchy. Here we see a hero (possibly King David) coming to grips with the obsolescence of the warrior class and ala John Belushi's samurai deli owner, he channels that testosterone into the clean sou chef slice of an apple. Goliath (not seen) is played by a cranky Cuisinart with a mean bread hook. Thank you, Svenja.

Katerina's been tippling again. And in the tumbling dominoes of her bottles there's a sense of animated movement so great that you can hear the bottles breaking as they spill right across the back of the card. Great card, Katerina. Thanks. Oh, and thanks for the coaster as well...I'm putting it good use next to my computer.

My old friend, Miguel from Sevilla, sent me this collection of cards, the centerpiece of which, is this haunting portrait of a woman whose piercing glare is not something you'd like to experience in the flesh. The woman on the right I'm guessing is making a political statement about the long economic crisis in Spain which drags on and on. Here's hoping that relief is on the horizon. Thank you, Miguel and everyone. Great work from everyone.

I'll deal with Shelly Appleton in the fullness of time.

[taidgh]

Quite the haul you got there David and a wonderful way to blog them. I can almost see the credits rolling. Some really great stuff. I like Carina's and Miguel's post. Happy to hear you got my envelope. I'm sure Shelly Appleton will be pleased to hear you plan to get back to her. Happy Sunday!