Tuesday, 22 May 2012

Below the water's surface.

There are a collection of quotes in Du Maurier’s:  Rebecca relating to postcards:

“I did not answer him, for I was thinking of that self who long ago bought a picture postcard in a village shop, and came out into the bright sunlight twisting it in her hands, pleased with her purchase, thinking "This will do for my album. "Manderley", what a lovely name.' And now I belonged here, this was my home.”

“I leant back in my chair, glancing about the room, trying to instil into myself some measure of confidence, some genuine realisation that I was here, at Manderley, the house of the picture postcard, the Manderley that was famous. I had to teach myself that all this was mine now, mine as much as his, the deep chair I was sitting in, that mass of books stretching to the ceiling, the pictures on the walls, the gardens, the woods, the Manderley I had read about, all of this was mine now because I was married to Maxim.”

“There was a postcard of the Lake of Geneva leaning against it. The Bakers had friends in Switzerland”

At the same time I listened to ‘Rebecca’ on an audio book my Dad bought me a postcard collection of seascapes. I love this book of seas, from calm to stormy-scapes each one felt as if it would start leaking sea water if I was to move the postcard too quickly. The love of these postcards materialises in my love of looking for these singular pieces of card in films, paintings and especially the post-box.
The paintings of Samantha French are so evocative I often find myself looking at them during a work break to refresh my work weary eyes, often resulting in a desire to plunge my head underwater to activate the inner reset button.


In the past I have made inspiration-week postcards. One week’s inspiration making up a collage inspired postcard. Ironically I vary rarely post these cards, instead I archive them to remind me of, ‘the week that was’ if you like- I like the tactility of these cards in much the same way I liked flicking through photographs from the family box. Those prints from the Eighties now have an eerie orange glow to the images, as if every Birthday party or trip to the zoo was back lit by Ziggy Stardust.

So I challenge you, create a postcard from everything that has flittered into your mind over the last 24 hours.  The percentage you accord to each image is as telling as the image itself.

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