Postcardia-cum-Poetica #34

Made for my darkly beautiful Owl-Sista, it takes from the Elyora baggie and a picture cut from an old WQ magazine. It continues with the dark gothic feel that infused most of May’s poetry. 

Postcardia-cum-Poetica #34

Last post, I promised something a little more light-hearted! It was only after the poem was stuck down that I noticed the thought bubbles.

Another repurposed Avant Card which continues on a run of bird themed cards between Kim and I have been sending. 

Apologies to the artist whose details I forgot to take down before the card went into the post. 

Elyora Goodreads Giveaway

These are all in the post today – copies of Elyora won by people who entered the Goodreads Giveaway. I’m ecstatic to know there will be a copy in England, Norway, the Czech Republic, Indonesia and Poland.

Because I was late in getting these out, I made litttle egg shaped book marks using The Paprly Shop’s free Easter download, each has a personalised message on the back. Felt good to add something handmade.

There’s also postcards headed to the USA and Europe along with this mail out, a tarot bag to the USA and a bookmark to Melbourne. The next lot of bookmarks I’ll offer only to my blog subscribers as so far I’ve only shared them on Instagram.

It’s now time for a cup of tea and a rest before it’s the school run and the rest of the afternoon’s domesticities.

What was the last non -bill or -bumf related article to arrive in your letter box?

Haiku Oracle Challenge, Day 2

Today’s prompt: your biggest dream

Part One

had flowered

and sleeps

waking in the night 

.   .   .

It’s okay. I am an eternal optimist. But I have let myself sit on this all day.

The first thing to spring forth from this is: I don’t really have dreams. Big, small, or between. I’m the sort of person who is pretty much okay in the here and now. So I am going to shuffle again and substitute ‘idea’ for ‘dream’ because I’m an ideas person more than a dreamer. Ideas are what sparks my imagination.

It might be easy to believe my best is past, tucked neatly behind the trauma of chronic insomnia, but I don’t actually believe that is true. I’ve done the work needed to be okay with who I was then and who I am now. In short: the stronger, most distilled version of me. Never think of yourself as a shadow of your former self! When you do, you sell yourself short!

What I am thinking is that this tells me I’ve always been able to achieve what I have wanted. Then there is a fallow period. Then the moment where you wake in the night with inspiration that has you reaching for you phone and notes, or pushes you out of bed. That it’s a process. Ever turning. And with that, I am totally okay.

Is it too early to call stalking on a card?

Part Two

a flash of lightning

autumn moonlight

winter solitude 

.   .   .

I’m glad I ran a little word substitute experiment with this – because kapow!! 

My ideas often strike like lightning. And the big idea I am currently working on – Postcardia – came in like that. Then all the little bits came together.

Friday evening (autumn moonlight) I put the finishing touches to the project document including the timeline to finally know what the big date will be. And yes – winter solitude – I am hoping there will be 100 of us sitting down on the solstice (it will be the winter solstice here) to write our first postcards.

This is the very first time I’ve spoken about #Postcardia. There will be more on the project. Keep tuned – especially if you are a lapsed letter writer, someone who enjoys joining in Instagram challenges or an avid art and poetry appreciator who  loves finding and sharing unique art objects. And if that’s not you, perhaps it’s someone you know!

Postcardia-cum-Poetica #6


I’m a bit late in getting last week’s postcard photographed and into the post. Another Avante Card, this time a promo one for ACMI in Melbourne. It was made for my friend’s son who is five and off to school next year. He has a wicked imagination and I could see bits of him climbing in and out of the words and pictures.

Rob commented that it’s a bit Beatle-esque in arting and wording. I’m happy to take those compliments. 

Postcardia-cum-Poetica #5

All the poems for the postcards come from a random draw of word snippets; all the off cuts, of all the pages, from all the poems I’ve built over the last year. I have two baggies of Calvino and one for Winterson. 


Last week my son came home with some Avant Cards he found in the library. These were our staples two years ago when Kim and I started writing. 

Pretty hard not to be wowed by Ying Huang’s Heart’s Shadow. And I loved what was randomly drawn from the baggie. Couldn’t have been a more perfect fit for the artwork. 


 

Fifty-Something Postcards from the Horse’s Mouth

My narrative skills were honed telling stories as a teenager. Not just the angsty,thinly-veiled fiction about the boys we had crushes on that I entertained my girlfriends with, but via the letters I wrote (to those same friends) when I moved from Victoria to Queensland in 1988.

I corresponded with five girlfriends during my time in Queensland. There was never a time when I didn’t have a half-written letter in the back of a folder.

When Adam and I began writing Piper’s Reach in 2012 I went through the striped Tuperware bag that held all the teeanger/early 20’s letters and repatriated them. I managed to send back all but two bundles of letters. One of those bundles belonged to my friend Kim.

kim

L-R: Me, Kim, Melissa and Helen
December 1989

For years I’d wondered what happened to Kim. My Year 8 drama partner in dance (we did interpretive dance to Pump up the Volume), my next door locker mate in Mr Smith’s homeroom in Grade 8 and 9 and my general go-to person for deeper insights into life. (And I remember Kim’s brother wanted to grow up to be a taxidermist!) I still have photos of Kim’s debutante ball. I remember being at her place in 1989 watching ‘Beetlejuice’.

Even though Kim didn’t move on to St Martins with us in our senior years, we remained friends and wrote letters into our early 20’s when I again moved interstate. The last letter I remember receiving from Kim was after her trip to the Czech Republic. I was sitting at the dining room table at my parent’s place in Gordonvale reading it in the height of the monsoonal heat and humidity, as Kim described the freezing European winter, the astounding architecture and how it was juxtaposed against the grey, morose locals (grey in their clothing, downtrodden in their Communism pall). It’s weird, that some twenty years later, with all the things I have read and seen, that image remains in my head.

In August last year, during my delirium of glandular fever, I received a message via Facebook from Kim, who was writing from Japan. I was ecstatic as she had been the one friend I had been unable to track down of my five original girlfriends from the Sacred Heart years. Two weeks later I had to go back, when the fever calmed, to check that I hadn’t hallucatinated the messages into being.

PostCard Project 1

“I chose this post card as much for its clear instructions as for its wonderfully over-exposed picture of Christchurch.”

I remember now why she was always a favourite friend and why for two decades I missed her so much. Her sense of humour, generosity of spirit and encouragement, the commonality (resonated across 20 years!), her calm craziness and unparalleled view on the world. Since we’ve reconnected I’ve been promising to write, promising to find her bundle of letters and send them on. And failed on all counts.

Over Christmas I was thinking about what kooky project I could raise for purely entertainment purposes in 2014. I wanted to do something related to the post (I miss Piper’s Reach for many reasons, but receiving letters every few weeks is one of them!) I wanted to do something simple – post cards, rather than letters. And somewhere along the way Kim and I agreed to write one postcard a week for the Year of the Horse. Turns out I am not the only one with a penchant for slightly mad ideas and the ability to rope people into them!

While we’re still a few days out of the new year, the first post card from Kim arrived today. And I am so excited. Tuesday is an auspicious day to receive mail. In Year 12 it was the day Ty’s letters would arrive and I’d run down the footpath after ballroom dancing lessons to grab up his letters from the post box and devour them on my bed before being called for dinner.

Today there was tea on the verandah! But the nostalgia lingers in the best ways. Especially when so well articulated in handwriting so well known.

postcard 1.1