And if you’d a movie to watch on this day, how about Dennis Quaid as Remy McSwain and Ellen Barkin as Anne Osborne in The Big Easy. It includes one of the hottest two lines ever said on screen after an awkward encounter with a lot of bashfulness.
Anne: That’s okay. I never did have much luck with sex anyway.
It’s funny, collecting Bigfoot cards started out as a lark. It was one of those things where I noticed I had a burgeoning selection of cards with that theme. Then that theme built and built and built. And now I have albums upon albums of Bigfoot postcards and ephemera. I’ve even made podcasts about Biggie, like this one with Jamo, and this one where I talk about my pocket-sized grandfather.
I’d say if you want to create a collection — or a theme of anything on postcards — start with a single card. And declare it so. Start looking. Noticing. Commenting on cards with your theme. And then one day you wake up and find yourself with what could be a world-class collection of postcards. As the saying goes: The best time to plant a tree is 20 years ago. The second-best time to plant a tree is today.
It’s always interesting to look at incoming postcards in the collective. To examine them from different levels of observation. (Reminds me a a bit like the Charles and Ray Eames film Powers of Ten.) When you stand back and look a while, and have the breathing space to do it without IG tugging at your shirtsleeve, patterns emerge.
Today’s pattern is Strong Women.
I recently wrote a piece called In Space, No One Can Hear You Scream. I featured a postcard of a Storm Trooper in a dirndl that was sent to me by JoAnn. Which led to JoAnn sharing the story with the designer — and to her sending me a gift of five terrific postcards from Allen’s Halsey’s Strong Women Series. You can find Allen on IG with the very clever handle Probably Not Emma Watson. And you can find his other work at InPrint. (I wasn’t able to find a direct link to his postcards, but I’ll keep looking and update this story when I find something. I will say the cards are printed very nicely — velvet touch matte coatings on the front give a really nice hand feel.)
In addition to the Strong Women Series, I also noted I have a few other terrifically strong women on postcards to add to this piece. The Mae Jemison card sent by Betsy is from a box set from Timbuktu Labs called Good Night Stories for Rebel Girls: 50 Postcards of Women Creators, Leaders, Pioneers, Champions, and Warriors. Plus, I added the Fannie Lou Hamer card from Lisa.
And Marilyn. Well, Marilyn. She needs only one name. And that quote I appended to the card with her on it. So was so good.
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I saw that statement by Virginia Woolf this morning on Inspiring Quotes. Seeing it prompted me to walk away from war coverage TV for a few minutes and look at a set of recently arrived postcards. That act alone gave me a moment to pause. Breathe. A moment of zen. There’s no one unifying theme here except that the cards slowed me down.
There is something particular about postcards (and letters) from others. It’s a message that we’re all in this together. Take a little stroll with me and enjoy some pretty postcards for a few minutes. No hurry. No need to sparkle. Just be yourself. Unless you can be a unicorn; then be a unicorn.
I was 10 years old when 400,000 people went to Max Yasgur’s farm and hung out for three days of Peace, Love, and Music. But I listened to many of the songs over and over again when my friend Paulie’s older brother bought the Woodstock album in 1971 and blasted it on his porch. My dad hated it. I loved it. Check out this three-day set list to see what a wow the music was. Also, if you love music and that Summer of Love, I’d highly recommend the Woodstock documentary that was released in 2019.
What got me thinking about Woodstock? This postcard and pin published by Bethel Woods Center and sent to me from that historic site. Here’s a direct link to the 35 postcards they sell.
If it’s a story I’m telling, then I have control over the ending… But if it’s a story, even in my head, I must be telling it to someone. You don’t tell a story only to yourself. There’s always someone else. Even when there is no one.
Margaret Atwood, A Handmaid’s Tale
I’ve mentioned many times how much I like handmade postcards. I’m actually really drawn to them. (Yeah, I didn’t mean to get that cute, but I think I’ll leave that in here.) They’re one-of-a-kind pieces of art. I always separate handmade cards from other cards when I get them. The trick is I’m still figuring out a way to display them. Right now I keep them in archival storage boxes. They vary so much in size I haven’t gotten an album approach yet, but I’m working on it. These wonderful handmade postcards will be in that mix.
Orla Hegarty talked about creating Imbolc postcards on Episode 126 of The Postcardist Podcast. Here’s the wonderful one she sent me. I can feel the magic of it.
About 550 years after that first Valentine was written, I was a kid, and I used to look forward to Valentine’s Day with great anticipation. I’d bring my bag of Valentines to school, with one signed for each kid in the class. And although the nuns would try to enforce the one-kid-one-card rule, they couldn’t enforce the quality of the cards. Back then, each pack of Valentines (I think there must have been 50 in a pack) had one larger Valentine. If you were sweet on someone, they’d get the bigger card. It was a big deal. Alas, I never got a big Valentine.
Those nostalgic days are gone. But happily, Valentine’s cards aren’t. Here’s a selection of Valentine’s cards from the here and now. And as far as I know, no one sent one from prison. (Although that would be kinda cool.)
By the way, as I was writing this I was thinking about Valentine’s songs. And you know what’s one of the worst songs ever written? It’s Frank Sinatra singing My Funny Valentine. Who in the effing hell thought that was a good song? Or that negging some nice person on Valentine’s Day would be charming? Not me.
Happy Valentine’s Day to you. I hope you find connections every day of the year.
You knew the rest of the title right away, didn’t you? Get your kicks on Route 66. That Nat King Cole song tells the whole story of that famous road. And these two incoming postcards tell a story from the road.
Nikita sent me several Kerouac quotes on the card. This one got to be today.
Hey, speaking of going places, there’s a place you should go. Ana has been writing a lot about postcards and letters on her Cartas y Postales site. Check it out. And let me say it makes a lot of difference for writers (including me) when you take the time to subscribe and comment. .
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