when i started writing this blog i thought i was a modernist collector. it soon became apparent that i am simply a collector. i collector of all things.
once upon time i thought i had a unique perspective on collecting and after all these years i have found many that share my same interest and passion. that said i really don’t collect post cards. i really don’t.
whenever i attend a paper fair there are dozens of post card dealers. there are specific shows for post card collector. the categories are endless for these collectors; animals, photo cards, states, churches, specific counties…too numerous to list. however since i have attended these shows for years many dealers know my tastes and interests. this can be good and bad. the good part is that when i stop by their booth the dealer will often have put items aside for me. “i have a few things for you”, is how i am greeted after the initial hellos. this is a delight, then the feeling i am obligated to purchase their selections. happy this is rarely the case. there is little pressure other than what i have put on myself. every dealer is different of course and each one puts aside something completely different for me.
one of my favorite dealer is michael meade. i see him at the stamp shows and i have been buying paper ephemera from him for years. an incredibly knowledgable man. he has shown me patience and tolerance in helping me build my collections. this particular post's post card in fact was bought from him.
when michael handed me an envelope of his selected items and i saw the image on this postcard i wondered why he had selected this. the i turned it over and saw the answer. wow. the handwriting, it’s just amazing.
how do you feel about your handwriting? when was the last time you sent a post card? when my daughter went to summer camp she asked that i type my correspondence, that certainly tells you all you need to know about my handwriting.
the post card begins with le sourire, l’amour, les larmes. the smile, the love, the tears, from my college french, i only knew two of the three and had to look up the third —les larmes. i have not tried to read the entire card, another thing on my to do this, but this card was pinned up at my desk once upon a time. as i look at it afresh. i marvel at the author’s handwriting. it lovingly it ends with “martinique avec 780 mots”, 780 words, that does say it all.
