In self impossed exile on the sofa the highlight of the day has been the arrival of this package. I’m on email and they wing back and forth across the globe with no clear signs of travel, much like leaving a country by one stark white, brightly-lit airport and arriving at an identitcal airport environment somewhere else in the world, providing no proof that the travelller has actually gone anywhere.
Its now a much less common pleasure to receive a physical piece of mail. The stickers, stamps and decleration forms that make up the collaged character of a physical item, provide clues to itsÂ provenance, life and travels, from the exotic unknown, somewhere I’ve never before heard of or ever been to, to the familiar; my humble home.
Inside a cellophane wrapped book of Lee Ranaldo’s writings (which I had forgotten was signed), a sticker and a cd. Bonus.