Mail Art Reality

This month’s mail art leaves Wash­ing­ton by Tues­day the 17^th. I’d hoped for an ear­lier date but Doc­tor Doosurgery needs to see my metatarsal improve­ment and sta­bil­ity on Monday.

The 5.5″ by 3.5″ cards have a 1950s look about them — a retro-​theme of June Meat Cleaver and strands of pearls and Spam served up in myr­iad ways. Chopped meat, a WWII del­i­cacy for the troops, became home prep heaven in the post-​war era. But my mom never ever touched the stuff… it did not reoc­cur in our pantry. Not even when we went camp­ing. No good comes from putting meat in a can.

On the Ver­bal Home Front:

Much to my dis­may, mogate is a non-​word. This is most dis­tress­ing as MOGATE has always meant to amble slowly in a for­ward direc­tion. To stroll con­fi­dently yet in a relaxed posi­tion, upright strolling with­out shuf­fling and often with­out pur­pose. But it isn’t a word. How can that be? It’s been part of my vocab­u­lary for five decades.

This right foot’s gotta’ be spiffy good before the left can be cor­rected. Can you say “Arthro­plasty?” But — might put off restor­ing feet for new improved use of a hand – in this case. I’m so beyond not using my right thumb, it’s a real pain, lit­er­ally, to have no thumb use. How can one thumb one’s nose at the pop­u­lace when denied that per­sonal digit? Damn this osteo, I say, damn you. Can I whine about osteoarthri­tis and con­nec­tive tis­sue dis­ease for a few min­utes? No? Okay, read on…

You might know your alpha­bet but I know my way around a gro­cery store.

Back to Mail Art:

I need your snail addresses by Mon­day if you’re to be included in this round of mail­ing. You can send me an email at mace­wan at assem­blag­ist dot com (not org) with your addy or you can send me a Face­book mes­sage. If you’re not my Face­book friend, ask to be. Odds are, you might be included. NuvoFluxus designs begin to take shape and mul­ti­ply — hence must be shared with the populace.

Local Yocal­ity:

Mean­while, let it be here noted that:
Local arti­sans and offi­ciants dis­dain NuvoFluxus cre­ations and, $#%$(*, seem to have cre­ated a Down­Town Art Walk with­out seek­ing my approval or pres­ence. Per­haps I shall set up a booth, a nov­elty moment with fold­ing table and dis­play my ever-​increasing skill at either rock-​paper-​scissors OR do a shell game and those who cor­rectly find the peanut will receive a free piece of nuvofluxus for their per­sonal enjoy­ment. Open house of all ALL gal­leries? I think not, but it’s a start. Enough… those who seek to embrace NuvoFluxus shall feel the warmth of inclu­sion. $19.95 brings joy.

That’s right. Today I am offer­ing a $19.95 All The Art You Can Eat spe­cial. Right here in Down­town Wash­ing­ton On the Water­front. For one sim­ple cash pay­ment, you may come by my stu­dio and chew up all the ephemera you can fit in your mouth. The only limit is time. You will have 19 sec­onds to stuff your mouth with such amaz­ing ephemera as:

1920’s Lit­er­ary Digest
1950 – 1960 Red­book, Ladies Home Jour­nal, National Geo­graphic
Books such as The Lit­tle Lame Prince, Shooby Doo, The Day Jimmy’s Boa Ate the Wash and more.

Time to wash up and get ready to visit MaMaw and Papaw. They’re hav­ing fried squitlins for lunch down at the Senior Cen­ter and we don’t want to miss that, now do we? Today’s major deci­sion was: Clean House for Mother-in-Law’s visit OR Take Rox­anne to Dog Park For First Time in Three Days. Option #2 won that. I only have but so many spoons in one day.

c