Featured Work
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First Page of Snail Mail Project by izzybeth
I was not sure how to approach this Snail Mail project, so I began by finding a 8”x8” card-stock and adding to it found objects. First, I tore to shreds an old card, and I glued the pieces around the border of the card-stock. Next, I located a nifty paper punch that cuts out bird shapes. I found some decorative paper then punched out a flock of birds to place on the blue page. I decided to add a little wooden stick , and embroidery thread to the little red lantern on the top left corner of the page. Then sprinkled itty bitty greenish-blue marbles to the page and finished it off with red paint and high gloss varnish. This was to be the first page. On the second page, I added a little business card and repeated the bird and lantern motif. From a magazine I cut letters to create a word phrase. And on the back of each page is a little hand written letter for readers to enjoy.
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That time is upon us again. Everyone seems to be messaging each other asking that most modern of 21st century questions: “What’s your postal address?”. Everyone messages back vaguely excited that they may be about to receive a wedding invitation (because it’s still faux pas to send those out via Facebook) before they realise it’s December. Every year I sit down and write a stack of Christmas cards. I have done this for the past two years and as I completed my third year’s worth tonight I realised I have friends with which my only communication during the year is a Christmas card. That’s it. That card needs to convey the entirety of the past 12 months including births, deaths and marriages. It makes you wonder whether it’s really worthwhile, but I can’t help it. I must write that card. To me the Christmas card is a throwback to a more civilised age, when people took the time to write by hand, when they considered what they were going to say because there’s no delete key for ink and they kept records of people’s addresses. I feel an absolute compulsion to write Christmas cards. No-one writes letters any more, the stuff in the letterbox is either demanding money or a real estate agent wanting to sell your house from under you. I feel sitting down to write a stack of Christmas cards is a tradition that requires my personal support to survive. I imagine all those people reading my cards and I think they’ll be spurred into sending their own (some might say shamed, but that’s a bit harsh, isn’t it?). If there’s anything that will stem the inevitable death of the hand-written letter, it is the devout fervour with which I write my Christmas cards. Which is a little ironic since I am far from filled with the Christmas spirit. I think the stress of the season gets to me more than anything. I freak out when I think about events and and who will be there and what to say to them. Giving people gifts seems unnecessary when all I want is to hang out in their company. But give me a Christmas card and some beautiful wrapping paper and I’m set for the season. Hey, we don’t have to believe in all traditions – just the ones that make sense to us.
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Season's Greetings by Zolton
Lovely old style mail box I passed on our first snow day here! Brrrrr….. but it was a great day.
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For Adrian. A little scratching I thought could go somewhere, but was let down by my lack of vision and Australia Post.
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Snailmail by Tom Godfrey
“Phew! Thank goodness I caught up with you; I thought I’d missed the mail run.” / Akkermesh grinned with relief, as he skilfully flipped his letters into the snail box. Another gentrime, would have been too long to wait for the return trip. “You are lucky slurped the snail, another three pecsureps and I would have been through the gap. Many Red orbits to wait for my return, had you not caught me in time.” In ages past, on their once unpolluted crystal planet, Kryx, communications had advanced from wires to wireless over a few short gentrimes. Scientific advances soon allowed sub-atomic particle encoding quark transfer possible. Nothing faster, or more reliable than transfer at thought speed, they had surmised. It even made light, pedestrian by comparison. They were correct regarding the speed, but quite wrong re the reliability. The Kryxian miners had reached thought speed, with information transfer, which it turned out, surpassed even that of light. Thought transfer had one major flaw though, it could be intercepted by highly trained individuals using intuitive telepathic look and lock techniques. The invisible “ether” of space, the so called empty or dark zones between solid objects was not, it turned out, empty at all. It was, the scientists had discovered, like an invisible elastic blanket, to which all things were connected and from which all things had sprung. This meant that highly trained individuals could, “surf the blanket” with the right clues and be led, also at thought speed, to the information they sought. The focus of energy required to concentrate and transmit the packets of data, created a “heat” signature in the mental ethers which gave them away and allowed interception and decoding. After a few major breaches of their defences and the lucky discovery of an enemy agent at work, the Kryxians searched for a more reliable method of information transfer. Then, quite by accident, they stumbled upon snail mail. Evolving naturally in the dank, dark, slimy caverns beneath Kryx, the snails had developed an ability to communicate between themselves, using biological wave sensors on their “feet”. Over time they had roamed towards the surface in search of food, and that’s where they found the miners. As a young free thinking miner hybrid, Akkermesh was first to recognise the special transport abilities of the amazing snails. In collaboration with the gastropods and the top scientific minds on Kryx, they had formulated a process using holographic multiplication, to create gigantic thought bubble transfer domes, which could double as protective bubble shields around their cities. The Kryxians used a recently developed write and memory wipe technique so that traces would not appear in the ethers. Once sealed, the writing was chemically encoded with the paper and vibrationally tuned to the recipient. Should anyone other than the intended receiver, open the letter, the paper would instantly dissolve. Thus the era of “Snailmail” was born on Kryx.
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Pippi´s message by Johannes Wessmark
Du you remember the message enclosed in a bottle Pippi Longstocking throw in the water? Well here it is : ) / Airbrush and pencil
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three little packages by SoxyFleming
If you would like to buy few of these for Christmas cards bmail and I’ll arrange a special price : ) for pbworks some of the contents of the tuna tin
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Mail art = Tuna Box, Tuna Book ! by pbworks
A small box of tuna which I recycled :)
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Postie's Delight by Anne van Alkemade
These letter boxes sit on their volcanic rocky bench on a road just out of Bacchus Marsh. Built by one of the residents of small group of farmlets, they are fun, quirky replicas of bathing boxes at Brighton Beach in Melbourne (and no doubt other beaches around the world). I had taken a photo of these boxes before (a very popular selling card for me) but I heard on the grapevine that they have a new coat of paint and so they do look much brighter and happier. It’s nice to know that the owners of these boxes like to keep them looking nice.
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Recent Work
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STAND AND DELIVER.....MY MAIL by Michelle Legg
On the way to the Bunya Mountains I found Ol’ Ned standing by the side of the road just waiting to be photographed! What could I do? I just had to stop and oblige. Canon 400d with 70 – 200mm L IS USM lens. / Manual exposure / AV 5.6 / TV 1/400 / ISO 100 I did a little tweaking in Photoshop to sharpen the image a little and provide a bit of contrast.
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MOO LETTER BOX by Michelle Legg
In my never ending quest to look for unique letter boxes, I found this on a drive in the country near the Bunya Mountains. I just slammed on the brakes (well, not slammed – I was on a dirt road) slowed down, found a safe place to turn around and drove back to take this shot. I was met by resident pooch who had a puzzled look on his face, gave my hand a sniff and lick and then walked off leaving me free to snap away.
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That time is upon us again. Everyone seems to be messaging each other asking that most modern of 21st century questions: “What’s your postal address?”. Everyone messages back vaguely excited that they may be about to receive a wedding invitation (because it’s still faux pas to send those out via Facebook) before they realise it’s December. Every year I sit down and write a stack of Christmas cards. I have done this for the past two years and as I completed my third year’s worth tonight I realised I have friends with which my only communication during the year is a Christmas card. That’s it. That card needs to convey the entirety of the past 12 months including births, deaths and marriages. It makes you wonder whether it’s really worthwhile, but I can’t help it. I must write that card. To me the Christmas card is a throwback to a more civilised age, when people took the time to write by hand, when they considered what they were going to say because there’s no delete key for ink and they kept records of people’s addresses. I feel an absolute compulsion to write Christmas cards. No-one writes letters any more, the stuff in the letterbox is either demanding money or a real estate agent wanting to sell your house from under you. I feel sitting down to write a stack of Christmas cards is a tradition that requires my personal support to survive. I imagine all those people reading my cards and I think they’ll be spurred into sending their own (some might say shamed, but that’s a bit harsh, isn’t it?). If there’s anything that will stem the inevitable death of the hand-written letter, it is the devout fervour with which I write my Christmas cards. Which is a little ironic since I am far from filled with the Christmas spirit. I think the stress of the season gets to me more than anything. I freak out when I think about events and and who will be there and what to say to them. Giving people gifts seems unnecessary when all I want is to hang out in their company. But give me a Christmas card and some beautiful wrapping paper and I’m set for the season. Hey, we don’t have to believe in all traditions – just the ones that make sense to us.
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Okay, at 12.24am, there hasn’t been a lot of today happening yet, but I’m thinking this will still be the funniest thing I’ve seen all day at 11.59pm tonight! Go take a peek
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I am descending from a hypomanic episode, and though I cannot say I am please now that the eyes have come clear, I am relieved it is over. SO, I am going to make a visual artist Mac user’s Christmas, or a PC user’s day, or a literary artist of either platform’s year by hosting a challenge sans group. The winner will have a choice of Adobe Creative Suite 4 Design Premium for MAC Full, or (for you PC users out there) a VisTablet draw pad and a TNT2 64 graphics card with VGA output. As for you lit-brats, you have an advantage naturally in this challenge, so the prize for you is a secret…. but it’s worth it, OOOOOOHHHH is it worth it. I’m a Mac user, so the CS4 DP is of course Mac and it’s available because I was treated for early Christmas to the Master Collection (yeah, I’m in Adobe Wet-Dream Land) which came with my Mac Pro 4Tb 3.2GHz…. ok I’m sorry, no more happy gloating. To the point: If you want to enter, you must comment on this journal with ONLY three letters, separated by commas (for example, comment ”$,&,%” but with LETTERS in place of those symbols. No numbers either.) I will tell you what constitutes a win now to be fair: Whoever makes the most chicken will be the winner. As soon as I get one person entering, I’ll post clue/part 2. This runs until the 30th at G(U)ST 11:59PM. I can pay Redbubble to do me the favor and ship the prize to the winner if that person does not want me to have their address (It’s quite common… ;) If you balk at the obscurity of the whole thing, just think of the prize (MAC Users) or the beauty which comes from confusion (PC users… oh, and the pen tablet really is nice).
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Wanna join? This Group is not for everyone. It’s called THE BUYERS CLUB. Go to GROUPS…find it…and JOIN—if you are willing to BUY…then, eventually you may get a sale, too. Tired of not selling a thing on this site…or just a ‘greeting card’ now & then? / THE BUYERS CLUB requires EVERY member to make 2 purchases per year. / This means each member must buy something OTHER THAN A GREETING CARD…a print, a t-shirt, a calendar….Members must make one purchase / btwn Jan-June 2009 / and one purchase btwn July—Dec 2009. Each member may sell something within their ENTIRE portfolio…you are not restricted by what you upload to the GROUP. I’m hoping this Group creates more sales for those of us who want to sell more of our work. THE CANVAS PRINTS are amazing here…ever order one? Find one you LOVE…and order it…and you’ll see. / Hugs, / Michael
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Season's Greetings by Zolton
Lovely old style mail box I passed on our first snow day here! Brrrrr….. but it was a great day.
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The Stamp Machine by Catherine Veal
Found this in Broadstairs, Kent.UK. Thank you for looking.
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Second Page of Snail Mail Project by izzybeth
I was not sure how to approach this Snail Mail project, so I began by finding a 8”x8” card-stock and adding to it found objects. First, I tore to shreds an old card, and I glued the pieces around the border of the card-stock. Next, I located a nifty paper punch that cuts out bird shapes. I found some decorative paper then punched out a flock of birds to place on the blue page. I decided to add a little wooden stick , and embroidery thread to the little red lantern on the top left corner of the page. Then sprinkled itty bitty greenish-blue marbles to the page and finished it off with red paint and high gloss varnish. This was to be the first page. On the second page, I added a little business card and repeated the bird and lantern motif. From a magazine I cut letters to create a word phrase. And on the back of each page is a little hand written letter for readers to enjoy.
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First Page of Snail Mail Project by izzybeth
I was not sure how to approach this Snail Mail project, so I began by finding a 8”x8” card-stock and adding to it found objects. First, I tore to shreds an old card, and I glued the pieces around the border of the card-stock. Next, I located a nifty paper punch that cuts out bird shapes. I found some decorative paper then punched out a flock of birds to place on the blue page. I decided to add a little wooden stick , and embroidery thread to the little red lantern on the top left corner of the page. Then sprinkled itty bitty greenish-blue marbles to the page and finished it off with red paint and high gloss varnish. This was to be the first page. On the second page, I added a little business card and repeated the bird and lantern motif. From a magazine I cut letters to create a word phrase. And on the back of each page is a little hand written letter for readers to enjoy.
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A letter from yesterday.... by follicle
Nikon D300 55mm f4 ISO 200 1/25th sec HDR Orton Cross-processed
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ivy by Holly Ringland
Dearest, / I watched you in the markets today. You didn’t know I was there, but I was; behind the stall of lilies, around the corner from the cinnamon scrolls and hazelnut coffee. I was there… and I saw you, how could I not see you? Bathed in the golden light of the weekend that everyone else was wearing on their skin but only on yours did it glow. I yearned to get close enough to smell the sticky scent of honey. You were wearing the dress I love on you, the one of soft fabric the same colour as your eyes. It reminded me of our summers, when I’d come home from work to find you lying in the back yard reading, the strap fallen off one shoulder, the smooth cocoa of your upper thigh peeking out from the hitched hem. You were sitting at a table in the food market, eating a plate of what looked like lentil dahl. I never knew how good vegetarian was until you. I could taste it as I watched you eat, my mouth swelling with flavours of cumin and coriander. I saw the thought occur to you before you did I think; the little wrinkle in your brow, the sudden match of light struck in your eyes. You quickly scavenged through your bag, coming out only with a pen. Your napkin, I whispered as you noticed the small white blank square resting under your plastic plate. I waited as the nib of your pen hovered. I waited and I waited. I stopped breathing. I waited. And then your ink pot spilled over and the lentil dahl went cold as the napkin filled with the black lace of your words. My breath was shaky, my hands were quivering, there was nothing else in my life that felt the way it felt to watch you write. A rebellious curl fell into your eyes that went ignored as you scribbled across your napkin. I ached for your words, your ivy of words that coiled around me and squeezed things I didn’t know existed out of my heart. Suddenly, it was over. You put your pen down and finished your dahl. And then you gathered your lilies wrapped in newspaper and your bag of apples and you disappeared into the market crowd. Of course I waited until you were gone before I lunged upon your empty table, lifting up your napkin as though it were made of the gossamer threads of a spider web. My eyes burned as I focused on the first line, the tendrils of ivy slowly starting to squeeze. Dearest, / I watched you at the markets today. / You didn’t know I was there. / But I was. copyright © 2008, Holly Ringland.
About This Group
Snail Mail
Dedicated to the depiction and celebration of the ‘ancient art’
of letter writing, envelopes , postage and anachronistic means of communications.
Images and the written word should all have snail communications as their central theme.
Please note ALL spammers will be removed from this group
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