A taxomonomy of Une Vie

 

Herman's mail art is bold and beautiful like a trip to the cinema. Those things that happen on a day, in your life, those things that I used to write as a list when I lived in the Kerio Valley (so I would have something to say in my daily letters), those things that might feel inconsequential, a fox, a bird, a tooth, become actors in the story which Herman gathers together in snippets for me to reconstruct. This time I fell joy and wonder, like awakening from a dream, a world where we are maskless, hugging, in cramped spaces.

When I received this I had some friends staying and they wanted to see what it was.  I opened the outer envelope but when I saw the delicate string i exclaimed that I needed to open it later, carefully. Herman had never tied up his mail art in string! A delicate and beautiful touch!

At the moment the fierce heat has abated and I only need to water the polytunnel once a day, but I am this woman. She is one of Herman's photographs of what I imagine is mail art he has sent to others. His panache with juxtaposing the figure with colour and form is always enchanting and i am happy to be a voyeur in these three pieces of sent mail!

Herman tells me that in Amsterdam they have jettisoned their masks.  Here in England we are still more cautious. On the flip side of this icon,  Herman tells me of his father and the letters he wrote and how they make him proud. I was the letter-writer in my family but I treasure the few things I got from my own father. His handwriting can still conjure the man. 

Happy belated birthday, Charlotte!

This is larger than Herman's usual drawing scale and they flap in the wind. I need to make more stamps!  Thank you for a wonderful mailing, as always. I will try not to be a snail in the speed with which I reply!