If you were here in this gleaming metropolis today cruising down, say the 101, or 110 freeway heading for somewhere…anywhere…and you decided to hang your head out the window like a doggy you would get your nostril hairs singed with a scorching dry blast of fire air. That means it was HOT. And not just hot. Windy. Scary windy. A hot dry wind. The kind of wind that makes my hair cyclone up in a great big ball above my head almost exactly like in my About photo. The kind of roaring wind that makes me reach for my Nerve Pills For Mood Disorders with a martini chaser.
Fortunately this lovely piece of MAILART from my girl RANDI found its way from the green pastures of Iowa all the way to this HOT barren asphalt jungle. Hot diggity dog! I’m only showing you the outside of the envelope today. Tomorrow the inside will be revealed in all of its MAILART glory. Get ready.
So far 2 of the ponies have made it to their destinations in record time. That bodes well for the other mailart as yet in ponie limbo. I’m posting the ones that made it along with another page from my visual journal up at the top. As you can see I wasn’t kidding about stapling the flea market photos onto every single piece of everything between now and kingdom come. I get fixated like that. That wee photo I cut out of a skull graffiti poster was spotted on the back of a street sign recently. I wonder if the young graffiti artists of LA have any clue that their great aunt Bertha is snapping photos left and right of their creations and pasting them in her journal. Gives one pause doesn’t it?