This postcard had a bit of an adventure before it even intentionally set forth on its way to Melbourne. It was blown twice from the balcony I was sitting on last week, while we were at Frew Park, and the second time it looked as though I had lost it for good.
We found it spooning the wall of the building.
I thought I had lost it a third time. Eventually found it nestled in the book that I had placed it in for safe keeping from the blustering wind.
Made from my 2015 postcard, and taken from the ten raw postcards I sent down to Adam at the start of 2016, #44 is my first dip back into that artistic landscape. The words were taken from my Elyora baggie of fragments.
I’m torn as to whether it is a summer poem or a winter one. What do you think?