Now, THIS is a mail art catalogue

Once upon a time, paper ruled mail art. People wrote letters (imagine that), didn’t know what a computer was, and all the project documentation was in paper form, ranging from simple lists of participants to thick catalogues. Nowadays most people opt for posting all the works in a blog, mainly because it’s less labor intensive and definitely cheaper. Still, once in a whole I come across an old school doc, and the zine that Mujinga produced for his project Utopia is very well worth mentioning.

Inside you will find a brief description of the works he received, the usual list of contributors and, most importantly, a discussion on what mail art is and an interesting piece on how and why he embarked in this project, including the problems he encountered and the lessons he learned. All in all it’s a very useful primer for people who are thinking about doing the same thing, or are interested in the subject, and even includes a handy list of mail art-related web sites.
$2/Digest/20 pgs
Mujinga/Edward, 1 Delves Cottages, Church Hill, Ringmer, Lewes BN8 5JY, UK
spaceman@mujinga.net or http://wemakezines.ning.com/profile/mujinga

Bellarosa

This is a very nice booklet I got last year from Mariano Bellarosa, a new mail art friend from Italy I met through the mighty social network DodoDada (http://dododada.ning.com/). Mariano's forte are very detailed, somewhat weird drawings. This particualr booklet has very high production values and if you like the genre, you might want to contact him. You will find his profile in DodoDada.

2,000 Staples

A few months ago I finally used the last few staples left in the box pictured below.

This makes 2,000 staples in nine years. It might not be a record, but in these last nine years my faithful long-arm stapler has helped me publishing 13 issues of KAIRAN - Mail Art Forum, three issues each of Call & Response and Orga{ni}sm plus several one-shot zines, mail art catalogues, etc.

I think I'm allowed to a little celebration, right?

Tourism (1)

Because of "family issues," I don't have the chance to travel freely around the world and show up unannounced at the door of unsuspecting mail art friends (do not worry Keith!). That's why I'm very happy every time someone has enough balls (and money) to come all the way to Japan. One lady I'm particularly fond of is Jennie Hinchcliff of Red Letter Day zine and PodPost fame (the latter one is the dynamic duo she has started with partner-in-crime Carolee Gilligam Wheeler). Jennie-chan has an unhealthy passion for all things Japanese, and I've already had a chance to meet her in Tokyo not once but twice. In the photo below we are with her beau in front of Au Temps Jadis, a wonderful creperie in Shibuya (please note the fake European facade).

Every time we meet, Jennie never fails to bring some wonderfully weird present. This is a cute package she gave me the first time we met ("hajimemashite" means "nice to meet you").

When I managed to unravel the cleverly assembled combo, I found a bunch of nice envelopes she had made the night before in her hotel room by using paper she had picked up around Tokyo. I told you the girl is crazy.

Once in a while, she drags Carolee to Japan, and instead of taking it easy and visiting some nice museum, the two magpies roam the streets of Tokyo in search of used tickets, flyers, photos, cute-looking paper and other useful junk they later feature in their zines. This one is called Kimagure na dowa no hon.

If you want to have a look inside, you can check their wonderful web site out at http://www.podpodpost.com/shop.html You'll find many more delights.

Yes, Sundays can be really gloomy. Or at least they used to be. Lately I manage to somewhat control myself - especially if the day before has been a good catch... Well, actually I should not complain about the postal service here: Japan is, in many respects, a paradise for all the lovers of the good ole (some say obsolete) art of letter writing. They always deliver the goods no matter what. Even if the sender has not put enough postage, the guys in green leave your mail in your box, of course adding a note in which they politely ask you to please go to the nearest post office and pay the difference (in Italy, il postino mafioso usually threatens to eat your letter in front of you if you don't pay on the spot). Rain, typhoons or earthquakes will never stop mail here. On the right you can see an envelope I got from German mail wunder-artist Eberhard Janke (of Edition Janus fame). For some reason it got completely wet before it could reach my house. On the left side you can see a brief not of apologies from the P.O. If you don't forgive them, they proceed to commit hara-kiri, like John Belushi's samurai in Saturday Night Live. Actually the accident caused the rubberstamp prints enclosed to bleed into each other, thus creating very interesting visual effects. Here's a nice example of chance collaboration between the artist and the postal service.
On the other side of satisfaction - and of the Pacific - we find the truly evil postal clerks of Baltimore, USA. Look what they did to the poor envelope on the left. It all started because I wrote the name of a zine - Leeking Ink - instead of the one of its editrix - Davida Gypsy Breier. That was enough for them to return it to me. So I decided to try again, but I don't like to do things the easy way, so I re-used the returned envelope, this time writing the right name AND the nice note you can see on the left side: "Dear Mr/Ms Postman, THIS is the right address. Thank you in advance for your cooperation." The ever kind people at the Japanese post office were worried that all those stamps and symbols would create some confusion, so they crossed the "return to sender" stamp, and wrote "to USA" with a black marker. But to no avail: after a few weeks, the doomed envelope reappeared inside my mail box. I've decided to add it to my collection of weird mail...
When you are finished reading this, you'll better check Davida's Web site: http://www.leekinginc.com/