Mail-art.

A colorful mandala, not of sand, but of paper : that's what I think about, sometimes, when I realize that I once created dozens of envelopes and just blow them in the wind without keeping traces of it (the picture shows some beautiful mails I received). I like the idea. I do hope it was a pleasure not only for the final adressees but also for the people involved in forwarding the mail (as working in a sorting office is perhaps not an every day sinecure).

What did "creating an envelope" mean ? A scrupulous choice of paper (color and texture), ink, and thread (yes, most of my envelopes were in fact machine-sewed). Then drawing, pasting things, writing the address anywhere but where expected (mail-artists are sometimes playful, aren't they), and so on.

I was very careful in my choices of stamps, even though they do not passionate me for themselves (to be honest, the only idea of stamps-collection really makes me yawn). Call it pernicketiness if you like (it is, probably), but I didn't understand how brilliant mail-artists could create wonderful envelopes stamped without care. Why should obligations be boring ? At worst, it was always possible to put the stamp on the back of the envelope or even to change its color by painting it... I can hear you think of a question, and the answer is no : no, I've never had any problem with any postman. On the contrary. Some of them even "forgot" to cancel the stamps because they didn't want to spoil anything !

But alas, in spite of all those years of resistance against mail uniformity (I had no computer at that time), I now use emails, as almost everybody.

A few examples (click to enlarge).

1997. - "Why do you write ?" : a mail-art invitation proposed by a magazine called "Plumes", the first I attended to. This envelope was published in the magazine (so was the "St Michael" one below, and several others). My answer to the question was "because Marianne is in love with the postman" (Marianne is the woman symbolising France, she's on all the basis stamps).

1998. - Difficult to send this one, for once... A variation around a stamp, with colorfoul nepalese papers on black cardboard and drawings in both black and white inks.

1998. - An other "Plumes" invitation "what bond unites art and writing ?". Answer around a stamp representing St Michael : writing, or the art of slaying one's demons (on genuine parchment !).

1998. - It happened very scarcely, but this is a letter I sent... to myself. A tribute to Paul Auster, with one of my favorite quotations in Moon Palace, about the first man on the moon : "Since the day that he was expelled from Paradise, Adam had never been this far from home".

Uncompleted draft : the bird is a postcard from the Museum of printed textiles of Mulhouse.