Thursday, November 12, 2009
blue skys smiling at me
I've been working feverishly on the abalcabal zine. Last night I assembled... today I addressed envelopes and decorated the envelopes. Tommy did some rubber stamping and drawing on each envelope previously... but I felt like I had to add a few more things... I did not want them to look naked. After all, issue #1 has to set a precedent or something. I wanted it to be super special... but like all my zines... they just may end up special and the super left out... The ABALCABAL zine was born from the birth pangs of death. That is... the A Book About Death show that took place September 10, 2009 in New York City... The show was Matthew Rose's invention that drew about 500 participants. Each participant sent in 500 postcards about death. Every postcard had to say, "A Book About Death." Then at the show you could take the postcards that you wanted to pick up. For me the best part about the show was the people I met. Some I had passed in the mail but others were brand new acquaintances... others were only people I found while googling, "Ray Johnson." Now they all lived and breathed and moved. They did the dance of death and opened doors to friendship and possibilities. Meeting artists of similar minds was very gratifying to me. It made me feel --not so alone--in this world. To be truthful people in general don't understand mail art or care about it at all. Me, on the other hand... I pretty much breath for it. I'll never forget Keith Buchholz saying, "Jennifer Zoellner"--and it rolled off his tongue like he KNEW who I was... like he couldn't believe that it was me! And he did know who I was... our postcards had passed each other via the postal hands that delivered them. New York City and the Abad weekend left me wanting more... left me not wanting for it to end... so I emailed a group of abaders and invited them to take part in a zine about our lives. 19 artists participated in Abalcabal Zine #1. Tomorrow I am mailing. The work itself is fantastic... and like any zine... it's a labor of love.