Still being on the new side, I am curious about how more experienced mail artists approach their work mentally when sitting down to do it. Do you form a piece specifically for a certain recipient, after you've come to know a few things about that person? Or do you tend more to go all-out free when you get to work, and send works to different artists without considering or worrying about that person's own style? I am hoping for replies from anyone who approaches their mail art one of these two ways, or both, or in some way different from the choices above. Thanks to all for your thoughts.
DVS, thanks so much for your answer, which is as I suspected though with some uncertainty. Even this early on, working without an individual in mind would feel a bit strange, and I find I can't really do it. And don't want to. When you become active here, you collect friends quickly, and that means, as you say, that you can't fool around and think about one piece for a week or two or more (which I am used to doing). It's a new way of working for me that will become (already is becoming) stretching. Yah, the individuality is the main draw -- the ongoing conversation. I like how you put that.
as someone who likes to veer oft off the path of normalcy,
IMHO, i would recommend not worrying so much about what other people do!
find your own frequency and CRANK IT UP!!!
even when i am busy with my tri-daily basketballpo:
my head spins with countless threads of conversations between folks on here,
thoughts shared between my wife and i, random social problems from all
kinds of past events which i cannot manage to let go, but constantly am
working to untangle, various threads of thought about social orders and
class distinction, zombies, calculus, and anything and everything in between;
to me the art is in that headspace where i work out the problems.
the stuff i do and post on here are just a shadow of the mechanics
that go on in the fore of everything i experience in the interim.
i think the art is the process itself of creation.
whih is what my whole asemic rampage was trying to portray -
there is nothing special about the external;
it's just a rearrangement of atoms on a plane of universe,
just as a flash of a moment your screen may contain
a representation of this text, momentarily - but it won't last;
save that it will ultimately affect your internal state to some degree.
it is the state of your internal machine, constantly working through
one kind of problem in life after another, where the art really happens.
and some art i personal, and minimally affects others outside of your own skin,
and some art has global repercussions. and neither the micro and the macro
are ultimately more important than the other - as they both can be mapped
onto one another, and help to solve each other's problems.
/* end data burst */
You summed up the universe and the ant walking on my desk, macro micro, in one short treatise, SH. A lot of wisdom there. And that video! Can't imagine how you do that. It kicked up the tinnitus in my head bigtime, but I got into the poetry of it and so didn't care. There it was.
On my original question, at this point it's less worrying about what other people do than just curiosity about what they do. How they do it. And so on.
Ok, the mental shot is taking shape! By the way, SH, your "Find your own frequency and CRANK IT UP!!!" is going up somewhere on my wall. It's a beaut, and great advice, and although I already tend to get pretty cranked up the reminder can be a good thing on weirded-out days -- especially when you drive it home perfectly in so few words! It also makes me laugh. It has a lot going for it, so gracias.
I think your question relates to the idea of "audience" I raised to you earlier. "Audience" is more of a writer's term, but let's substitute audience for recipient.
Mode 1 example: The Rilke card which stemmed from conversations at the Literature and Art page. I thought about you the whole time I was making it.
Mode 2 example: As with my writing, I sometimes enter a space of detachment in which I may interact only with the material(s) I'm working with, whether words or paint, glue, and paper. It really is another thought-space all together. Perhaps I also entered this space for brief moments while making the Rilke card. This detachment might be called objectivity. I like to think it is something like the zen masters encountered when they went on journeys and wrote their haiku. A paradox of attachment and non-attachment. Very complicated.
For myself, I have to step lightly because I have a sort of complex that makes me want to please others. It is a huge problem in terms of my husband, so I won't show him anything in progress. It is a kind of shackle.
It can also work the other way. Excitement can generate from two artists of like mind.
I don't think I answered your question!
Also on the new side of IUOMA, and for me all of the above. WROTE THIS BEFORE READING THE DISCUSSION BELOW.
After joining I went nuts creating 25-30 cards thinking this would be an opportunity to voice an ecological concern since these cards would pass through the hands of many. Then i looked at the personal pages of the members on the list my mentor (Valentine) sent me, and chose a card for each person. Really guessing which card each might prefer, and finishing up the back side with a personal (somewhat personal) hello.
Going forward, I can see this may change to creating something specific for each person. Something magical happens when i make a card and send it to a complete stranger. Creating and letting go.
This has been a good experience (IUOMA) for me. Starring down my ego from time to time is, well, it just is.
Alicia, seeing opportunities like that seems natural, and we probably all have agendas that make their way into our art. But I like your "something magical happens when I make a card and send it to a complete stranger. Creating and letting go." Patricio in Brazil educated me in a very kind way about that somewhere around my second day here. The letting go part. And then the first reply here, by DVS, where he mentions "ongoing conversation" -- that probably develops into the best part of all. I sent you something eight days ago, and hope it gets there. And I guess your week is being taken up by other things. I miss your presence around here -- or maybe you're here and I'm just missing it . . . that could happen when it's 99 degrees out.
i think she's been busy drooling over the wonderful lobster piece i sent her.
she'll be back when my magic spell wears off of her. ;-D