Again, a month with no question but here’s why:

I knew I would be traveling for July and August to the southeast. I planned ahead. I printed cards for both month’s, mailed July’s, probably from the airport post box as I often did when I traveled.

I carried August’s card with me.

I flew from Oakland to New Orleans where Misha let me borrow his car. His parents’ car but that’s another story. I slept on John Gerken’s couch in a house I would live in four years later. I drove to Tennessee to see my dad and sister. I took my sister to South Carolina to surprise our mom. Yes, I told my mom I picked up a hitchhiker and my mom didn’t even flinch. She was genuinely confused when it was my sister. My sister flew back to New Hampshire and I back tracked to North Carolina for two weeks at adult art camp, Penland School of Craft. I made a lot of paper. I made some collage. I made things I am still proud of, even if they didn’t lead anywhere. I saved 100 (or 65, or however many subscribers I had at the time) bits of handmade paper and glued them to 100 cards. I celebrated my birthday. I drove back to New Orleans, sweated through a few more naps and flew back to Oakland where I had been fired from my job. My co workers quit and the business imploded. Julian Schendelmen wrote a good zine about it.

My point is that I keep sending the postcards. It was a wild time.

My friends and co-workers quit in solidarity, not just with me and the other managers being fired but over sketchy practices. They were brave and awesome and I was making paper across the country.

PS I still haven’t been back to Rome

This card was letterpress printed with polymer plates on chipboard using a borrowed Heidelberg Windmill, with handmade paper glued on.

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