Ampersand Duck too

So there I was, looking through the various boxes that are stacked in my rented home office, and then pulling out the various boxes under my bed (I've become a storage wizz), looking for things to write about -- don't get me wrong, I'm not bored, and I have PLENTY to be getting on with, but these little chonks are fun to do -- and the hardest bit is deciding which gorgeous small collect to choose, as I have SO MANY -- (am I allowed to do all these asides in one sentence? I only ever do this in blogs and it's really fun) and I rediscovered a box. I thought: I know this green box contains something nice, but I can't remember what. (Remember, memory and me are un-mixy things.) I know you've guessed what's in there because of my spoiler post title, but what treasures!  ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... *clasps hands* These are all, with one exception, from before my 40th birthday, when I g

Small Collects is what I once wrote on a box of stuff that had either been sent to me over the years or I'd found or bought on travels. This is a subset of infrequent posts that feature my personal collection of ephemera and creative publishing outputs. yes, that too: Nicci Haynes, Canberra SO THE VOICE IS SORT OF / INSIDE AND OUTSIDE / OF THE BODY / WHAT ABOUT / WRITING   YES / THAT TOO I try not to buy art these days, because I have nowhere to put it. Seriously, I am renting a flat, and I'm allowed to have no more than one hook per room and two in the loungeroom. I put four hooks in the loungeroom because it's also the dining-room, so I counted it as two rooms. It was really hard to pick what to keep out from my wonderful collection of framed works. I do have a lot of art: wall-pieces, prints, objects... all boxed up, except for my own work and my artist book collection, which is also boxed, but living in the wardrobe of my office (the spare room). I actually

Small Collects is what I once wrote on a box of stuff that had either been sent to me over the years or I'd found or bought on travels. This is a subset of infrequent posts that feature my personal collection of ephemera and creative publishing outputs. Into the Blue Again: Damien Warman, Adelaide Once upon a time I was sent a parcel from a lovely guy in Adelaide, someone I think I hadn't actually met at this point ( forgive me if I had, D... memory and I have a strange relationship ) but who was working with a mate to set up a letterpress workshop in Adelaide after sourcing a stonking amount of equipment from an old printer. The parcel had a bunch of zine s in them, and while the letterpress was charmingly rough, the design of the zines was wonderful. This is one of those zines.  I scanned the front of the zine (above) and the back (way below) and the inside: but scanning does not do it justice.  It's a single sheet of light paper, not quite onio

Small Collects is what I once wrote on a box of stuff that had either been sent to me over the years or I'd found or bought on travels. This is a subset of infrequent posts that feature my personal collection of ephemera and creative publishing outputs. Gift: I made this for you: Sarah Bodman, Bristol UK Everyone in the creative publishing world should know of Sarah Bodman. She is the 'Angel of Book Arts', doggedly publishing the A rtist Book Year Book and The Blue Notebook year after year in the face of all sorts of cuts and restructures and BREXITy things.  She is also fascinated by things like MURDER and PSYCHIC EVENTS and such. In October last year she had a worldwide 'reading' of an object (it's a long story, some of which is here ) and a bunch of people around the world did an automatic drawing of whatever thing we saw in our heads at that time. I think I was the furthest away from it, and this is what I drew (very early in the morning):

Small Collects is what I once wrote on a box of stuff that had either been sent to me over the years or I'd found or bought on travels. I'm going to make it a subset of posts to feature the sheer beauty and creativity of ephemera.  Kindness card series: Deckled Edge Press, Qld Fiona Dempster and Barry Smith are two of the kindest people I have ever met. As I write, they are still living in the house they built on the edge of the escarpment outside of the Qld town of Maleny, a house with a view across the valley towards Brisbane so stunning it literally makes you gasp. Both of them are creative in multiple ways, and over the last few years they have turned their attention towards letterpress, collecting equipment and knowledge and quietly getting on with it. They had planned to sell the house and downscale, but the CV-19 situation has postponed that for the moment. However, they have moved the letterpress studio, and have been keeping busy until they can start holding