Kitchen Litho from Carina in far off Petsmo. Wunderbar. (Can you really do lithography with just things found around the kitchen? If so, I want to try it). And the envelope, please.
Brava! Thank you, Carina.
Angie Cope's entry for the Chinese New Year...it's the year of the earth dog. That tail is whack. (Hopefully, that means something to someone). Thank you, Angie. I'll send you our earth dog once it materializes. We're going with Boston terriers this year. The corgis need a rest.
From Stripy Goose, an English (of course) Sparrow and his overstuffed chair. Thank you, SG. (I too worry about our urban sparrows. One of them confessed to me his preference for velvet over twig. It can't end well).
Tres gifts from Ptrzia in Starnsberg, where, I am required by law to say, Mad King Ludwig was drowned. Upper left, Ptrzia's very small book of etcs. You need no other. Danke, tic tac.
More precision intrigue from Amalgamated Confusion. Among other things Keith is single-handedly reviving the use of Latin in mail art thereby raising the bar for the rest of us. To which I respond: Bonus fortuna cum eo. And now, the revised Non-Goldfish plate:
It's still a not a goldfish to me. And the stylish envelope.
Gracias, Señor Chambers. magnam pulchritudinem est in attendentes
Marie Wintzer continues to unfold her Japanese syllabary. And there will be a test. See how well you do. Here's my stab which will probably not place me the upper 93 percentile.
Thank you, Marie. How'd I do?
Katerina N. sent me two different pieces from far off Thessaloniki. This whimsical postcard with the famous White Tower and...
the famous Blue Dress which looks like it may have been inspired in part by ephemera. Of course, no entry from Katerina would be complete without...
a riff from her famous dress shop on Harilaou Street. Efcharisto, Katerina. And good luck during Paris Fashion Week.
A succinct collage from Alicia Starr Ryan, encircled with asemic text for protection from our ongoing hex. Here's a clumsy segue to something I stumbled across in the archives.
There is hope. Not for Asemia but other things, I'm told. Thank you, Alicia.
Envelopes from Nancy Bell Scott tend to be overstuffed with good things. Among them, this haptic piece (is it a player piano scroll or braille? Our experts will reveal all in the next install.) As well as…
this beautifully constructed collage and....
ephemera from Nancy's bottomless stash of coolness. (The two hundred kyats are payment for a bet she lost on the election. As it turns out, everyone lost that bet). And the envelope with its paper trail of great stamps from a lost civilization.
Again, thanks to all and forgive me my somewhat overly glib nature. I mean no harm. Dilexisti malitiam super benignitatem sine profundum