I send a postcard every day. I have sent thousands. The nature of a postcard contains a strange combination of exhibitionism and personal intimacy. The physical and intellectual acts of selecting the card and writing the words gives form and structure to a piece of self and time. It is a profoundly personal act. And yet, it is launched, skinless and exposed into the postal system. It can be, will be, seen by countless eyes and touched by countless hands. It will be banged, rattled, creased and stained. It will carry the marks of a journey that belongs only to itself. It will be imbued with mystery and permanently transformed so that it can never be fully possessed by the receiver. The recipient becomes, not owner, but custodian and curator of a shared experience.
I intended to begin a large postcard project at the beginning of the first semester in the Intermedia program but I decided that the scope would make other work prohibitive. Instead I will be exploring the conceptual issues involved over the course of multiple semesters.