From the Archives – Random Ephemera

Just this last week, I finally had all my stuff shipped from New York. With it came lots of boxes full of stuff that I have always kept around, sometimes for reasons unknown. When they got here and took up the entire floor of the living room I had a moment of panic over the possibility of being a hoarder. Eventually they all got unpacked and stuff found its place and now only one box remains. In the process I’ve found lots of great stuff, most of which I’m happy I didn’t throw out in a fit of hoarding paranoia.

Almost my whole life I’ve collected postcards and weird fliers and posters. I also have a collection of yellowed comic books and antique art supplies. Lots of these things I’ve kept around with the intention of “doing something” with them someday. Nothing is ever actually done, but the long standing plans to decoupage a piece of furniture with Wonder Woman fragments remain.

However, now that the stuff is here, I have to stop making excuses and actually get motivated. So, instead of just letting this stuff sit in boxes, I am airing it out.

This “Portrait of a Pig” by Jamie Wyeth is probably the first postcard I ever acquired. It sat on my desk as a child. It came from the Brandywine Museum in Pennsylvania – probably not the most interesting place on earth for a small child, but that was how my family rolled. To be fair, I do have vague memories and positive feelings toward the place, or at least towards the little river that ran out back.

I found this next piece on the streets of Florence. Or somewhere in Italy. I know it dates from my time in Florence because of the note taped to the back written by my roommate Bridget. Clearly my inability to remember phone numbers is a lifelong problem, as Stark can confirm.

I don’t know why I find that picture so fascinating… Partially, I think it’s because it was old and weathered already when I found it, so its provenance is so mysterious. Why was it suddenly drifting around the street? Also, because of the subject matter. I have this urge to hang it on the wall, which I’m sure would have driven my grandmother batty. I love the detail of the shadow on the ground. It’s probably supposed to appear more ominous, but to me it just looks like a frog. Jews as secret amphibians. I could live with that. If only I could breathe underwater.

Finally, this pamphlet:

I have no memory of where this came from. I certainly have never been to The Olympic Tyre and Rubber Company’s Platypus Display in Healesville, Victoria. I have never even been to that continent. Still, I just love it. Who doesn’t love information concerning “an amphibious animal of the mole kinds.” Magical.