Saturday, June 22, 2013
Today was the first day of the pop up exhibition in Suffolk at Old House (Memories are Made of This mail art plus some of the other recent pieces.
The weather was pretty terrible so not as many people came as hoped for (about 50 people came during the day) and I told them all about IUOMA and talked them through lots of the work! I wasn't able to hang it all but it was all there and people were taking things out and holding them and opening them up, even if they weren't hanging. I showed as many genres of mail art as I could find and spoke of how the mail I receive can directly result in some inspiration that makes its way over to other art. This was pretty easy because I also had some of my 'fusepo' - trashquilts and trash landscapes in a room nearby so could show a Diane Keys trashquilt and then explain how that morphed into my fusepo. People seemed genuinely interested too! I made some catalogs for the fusepo with a wonderful context page by De Villo Sloan!
I am back there tomorrow and there is music so perhaps even more people will know about 25 years of IUOMA and mail art.
I had materials ready and I think six people made mail art who had never made it before.
Wednesday, June 19, 2013
Wednesday, June 5, 2013
Wednesday, May 29, 2013
Full quota from Simon Warren!
Simon sent a pile of instalments to Maine which Eileen, the post-mistress collected and sent; they arrived in a plum envelope, all together.
' The street lamps in Akeman Street are switched off at midnight...''Ordinary people like me suffer, we have no means of voicing our disquiet...'
'I knew the parkland, the woods south of here like the back of my hand...'
'What does one remember but the strangeness of it all?'
'I can't go forward because I have no system of value the only thinkg I remmeber is an awful present...'
'There were never times like this years ago because my life was so different.
I would have loved doing this
I wasted the gaps in my life whenever I could...'
'Time lost our lives consist of time lost...'
'A lot of the young of Tring people left the area...'
'quail!'
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