A couple of weeks ago, I ran across these old postcards. I've sent them unrendered to friends, because my messing with them would probably only screw them up. I'm not sure it's mail art to send an unrendered postcard to someone, even within the broad definition of mail art, but what the hell.
This one might be a man with his outhouse. Or maybe it's a fish house. I choose to believe it's an outhouse, because how wonderful to be so proud of an outhouse that someone would put a photo of it on a postcard.
I'm pretty sure this is a picture of Death at Teapot Rock. I have never been to Teapot Rock before, and I don't plan to, now that I know that Death hangs out there.
Neither of these postcards had writing or postage on them, so I assume they had never been sent. I suppose that's not surprising, since I'm not sure what kind of sentiment a photo of an outhouse or of Death would convey. Not that that stopped me from sending them to friends.