Little Ms. Epistle

I love to exchange letters. It's a more civilized way to communicate. Phones, be they land-lines or those infernal cells, are entirely too abrupt. In theory, no matter what I may be doing--ablutions, studying, binding of spells, or taking in the wisdom of Master Shake, Meatwad, and Fryman--I have to drop my task and obey the summons of that dratted ring. In practice, I can ignore a ringing phone quite well or I've just unplugged it.

Mailboxes don't whine for your attention. They wait patiently to be filled and then emptied of their contents. The sight of a hand-lettered envelope or postcard in my silver cupboard is a source of delight. Plus, I can read it whenever I want and however I want--in theory. In practice, I gobble it up as if it was a candy-sweetened child who has strayed from the path.

I also find that phones don't bring me anything of use. What passes through the receiver is a weakened version of the caller. Plus, I need a face and body language to either reveal the subtext of the story or distract me from a less-than-fascinating episode. On the phone, I'm blanked in calm confusion of why this person is telling me this or that, and what do they want of me? I grope for the correct response and hope that I've given no offense where none was intended. A letter or card might be full of the mundane ("We've had good weather for a while."--I always include a weather report in my missives.)or trite ("Wish you were here!"), but eventually something unique will be revealed. Something you would never say on the phone, and something that would be excluded during person-to-person contact because it doesn't fit the shtick.

I also enjoy the adornment of the envelopes. When preparing an envelope, I try to avoid the generic stamp. At this moment, I'm in love with the semi-obsolete $.39 square because I affix two $.01 ones (dripping Tiffany lamps are the image) along with it. I'm not ashamed to use a sticker, and praise the lovely people at Dover Books often. I'm not sticky about what paper or stationery I use (not as much as a certain laconic blonde I know). In order to thoroughly enjoy replenishing my stock, I'm trying to empty my voluminous store of cards, paper, and bits. So many choices and decisions go in to the creation of a personal letter. Much like creating art.

So, why not distribute art via the post? That was my thought a while back. It all started on a morning with only dull hours waiting to hold me captive. To keep me from shrieking, I added something to my prim uniform that would attract glances and arouse brief wonder. Oooh, such wicked pleasure did I revel in that day. I created a small artwork to memorialize this pert act. Something that could folded and inserted into an envelope and sent on its merry way. For I am the Queen of Nonsense and a Cavaliera de Bellicosity.

If you wish to receive small fabrications that you can call your own and hold right in your hands, please, send an appropriate address to steelgirl@bust.com. I will intermittently drop something in the mail. You will then have the chance to find something unexpected and frivolous in your correspondence cupboard.