For as long as I can remember I have enjoyed antiquing. I started going when I was very young with my mom to local antique markets and barn sales, and eventually found myself going on my own to find old treasures.
Post cards drew me in. Old notes from long distance lovers, family members writing home from school, bad news sent from afar. No matter what was written on the back I always enjoyed the illustrations on the front of the post cards.
A couple of weeks ago I bought a bunch of post cards and decided to letter quotes over them. This had been an idea that was floating around my head for quite some time, and I finally decided to give it a go.
Once I started, I knew I would need to buy more post cards soon. Another trip to the antique market and I hit the jackpot. TONS of post cards from a Yellowstone collection. I restrained myself and only bought about 20... After I lettered them I took a couple to a local shop as well as sent a few down to Boise. BeeWise in Boise is filled with local artisans works and I was excited to have some more of my stuff there. I used the Yellowstone series to focus on adventure and I was so pleased with how they turned out.
I find myself staring at the wall in front of my desk after I finish a set of postcards, I'm not sure how I feel about letting them go. Slightly indifferent, sad, but excited for someone else to enjoy them. It's at this same moment that I itch to go back to the market to find more cards. The hunt in itself is something I greatly enjoy. I could easily spend an hour looking for just the right cards, looking for the ones that speak to me.
As an artist, while I do want to make art for other people, I want to make a piece for myself. If I am not happy with how something turned out, or I have a client that has directed every.single. artistic decision, I feel emotionally drained. I get burnt out. And I stop creating for a while. This Spring that happened to me. I stopped making art because I felt like I had been restricted in every decision. An issue with shipping ended up being a huge financial mishap, and I cried as a walked out of the post office because I decided I was done for a while. I made $18 off of a piece of art that I had spent hours on. I'll save that subject for another time, but it wasn't until I started my postcard series that I began to feel good about what I was making again. This is something I'm proud of and excited to share with others.
Time to sign off,
There's a fresh stack of postcards on my desk calling my name.