Welcome, spring

Pastel-perfect blossoms from the tree behind the wall and across the laneway are floating into our garden and carpeting the grass in pink confetti.

The children are shedding layers, leaving trails of socks and stockings and cardigans throughout the house as they cast off the long, long winter and turn their faces to the warm and welcome sun.

The urge to clean and cleanse is irresistible. Last week a toy cull, clothing next. Floors and benches and table-tops shine.

I pick a posy of geraniums and pineapple sage and something purple that I can't remember, and they spill out of a fat, old teapot, brightening the table while we eat outside.

We discover Ralph has grown out of another hat. Last year's sun-hat, pulled out of winter storage this weekend, sits comically and ineffectually atop his beautiful, big noggin.

Tiny poppy seedlings are pushing their way up through the soil in our garden. “Little baby plants!” breathes Scout in awe. “Be very, very gentle.”

Welcome, spring. This year, I've made my peace with you.

Image credits: Alexandru Tudorache, licensed for unconditional use under Creative Commons

Artist Lorraine Loots on surviving a 365-day project, and beyond

South African artist Lorraine Loots is my Instagram crush. She paints highly-detailed, hyperrealistic watercolour works on a daily basis, most of which would fit inside a five-cent coin. Very appropriately, she calls her work "paintings for ants."

"The images vary from eight to 30 millimetres in diameter," Lorraine explains. "When I started doing miniatures, people would say, 'Oh that's nice. But what would you do with something that small?' I just started saying they were made for ants."

Lorraine's work is beautiful, but her output is phenomenal. She started painting her miniatures in 2013, as part of a 365-day project. "The plan was simply that I would set aside an hour a day outside of my 'real job' to complete an artwork," she says.

"Initially, I thought of the project as a massive challenge, like a marathon or something I would be relieved to have survived. And it really was. But it also became this meditative time; a quiet and almost sacred part of each day. And as the days went by and the end came closer, I got sadder and sadder thinking that I'd have to stop. And then I realised that the project was mine, that I was the one who had made it up in the first place, and if I wanted to keep doing it, I could. And so I did."

Since those early days, the response to Lorraine's "paintings for ants" has been so positive that they have now become her full-time job. Each miniature takes between six and eight hours to paint - sometimes more - and Lorraine continues to create a new one every day.

"Some days are really hard. I think the pressure of having to create something for someone every single day, to put it out there into the world, the idea of never having a day off, it all starts to affect you on a subconscious level. There have been difficult days. I've been so sick that I was only able to drag myself out of the bed for that hour it takes to do the painting, and it's taken all my willpower. We lost a close family member on the last day of 2013's project, the day before I was going to take on 2014. That was incredibly hard. Life just goes on and sometimes you have to make big sacrifices if you want to stay committed.

"But the incredible feedback and the feeling of being one step closer to achieving a much bigger goal is what keeps me going. The reward is huge.

"I have a little travelling paint kit so as long as I have enough light, I can work anywhere. I've painted in some crazy places: a 26-hour bus trip, on the floor of our room in Paris, and in the foothills of the Himalayas."

To see more of Lorraine's work, or to snaffle an original miniature of your own, visit her website here, or follow her on Instagram at @lorraineloots.

All images provided by Lorraine, and used with permission

A movie about people making mail

Last year I came across a documentary (that you can watch online for free) called Making Mail. It is about a group of artists who use the postal service to share their art with each other and with strangers, all over the world.

It’s quite fascinating because it seems as though every time a new generation discovers mail-art, they think they are the first and they think they are alone.

I mean here was I (and I’m no artist but go with me because I’ll get to my point) painting the mail I send to you guys just because it was fun and I wanted it to look nice, and not knowing that anyone else was doing this, let alone that there was a whole movement around decorated mail, called “mail art.”

And then you watch this documentary and you first see a group of university students who stumbled upon the same realisations. They would write to each other, and try to find ways to make the mail as creative and interesting and interactive for the recipients as possible, just because.

And just when you think “Ok! They are doing this too, and they stumbled upon it in the same unexpected way as me!” the documentary interviews an artist couple who discovered mail-art in the 1970s. Again, by accident, without realising anyone else was doing it.

“I thought I had discovered the wheel,” one artist said, but then he was put in touch with Ray Johnson, a man who is now, with the benefit of history and academic hindsight, considered the father of “mail art” as a movement.

The nature of mail-art is that it’s personal. Art, sent just from one person, to another person. There’s not a lot of exposure in that! So it makes sense that it remains a fairly underground movement, and it’s entirely possible that in this shrinking world, there could be pockets of people still “discovering” this fun way of using the post, without realising that it has been done elsewhere and before.

Of course there were exhibitions - still are - for mail-art. Submissions invited and sent from all over the world and, most often, there are no rules. That’s one of the beautiful things about “mail-art” as a form of creative expression: once you discover there is a community out there, you also discover that the community fiercely protects its anti-art dedication to “no rules and no refusals.” Do what you like. No-one can tell you it’s not art.

Maybe the relatively-secret, underground existence of mail-art is about to change. After all, there’s only so many people who can avoid seeing the Internet, as time goes by.

But in the meantime, try watching Making Mail. It’s entertaining, interesting, and above all inspiring. Once you finish watching this little film, you will be itching to bust out the paints and gel pens and craft supplies, and send somebody a surprise letter.

A reminder

Hello! Have you sent me your thoughts on snail-mail yet, for my new book? Just send me an email, using the subject heading "write_on," answering this question:

Who should you write a letter to today, and why?

Or this one:

What's so special about snail-mail?

I want to collect as many different responses as I can, so I'd really welcome your thoughts (and those of your Nanna, and your kid brother, and your Great Aunt Polly, if you'd like to quiz them for me).

I'll credit you if you want me to, or keep you anonymous if you prefer. Just let me know.

Thanks friends. This book is coming along really well, and I have discovered and interviewed so many amazing people who are doing incredibly creative and interactive things with snail-mail, open to all of us. Here's some more about what's in the book. I look forward to showing it to you soon!

Yours truly, Naomi xo

Scout says

"When I grow up I will be Father Christmas. Ralph can be my elf." ("Father Christmas" is pronounced "Farmer Kitmass")

* * * * *

Scene: the cherubs are yelling at each other.

Me: Use your words. Scout, what words do you have? Scout: Umm, PINK!

* * * * *

"When I grow up I want to be Mummy."

* * * * *

Ralph (pointing at TV): Daddy! Me: That's a talking boat. Is Daddy a talking boat? Scout: No, silly. Daddy is a person. Me: Daddy is one of our favourite people, isn't he. Scout: Yes. (Pause) But he is not very good at cleaning.

* * * * *

While baking biscuits...

Scout: Are we using your special recipe book today Mummy? Me: Yes, and when you grow up and move out of home I will give it to you so you can cook all your favourite recipes. Scout (dissolving into tears): Why do you want me to move away from you? I don't want to go!

Scout got two biscuits that day.

* * * * *

Scout: Why did the button fall off my jacket? Me: It's just getting old. Scout: No YOU are getting old.

* * * * *

Said every night at bedtime, like a litany of love:

"Mummy I love you forever. I never want another Mummy. I never want another Daddy. I never want another Ralph."

* * * * *

"We are going to have noodles and croissant! That's what I'm going to type on the Internet."

* * * * *

"Not 'boddle' Mummy, 'bottle.'" And just like that, my child calls me a bogan.

* * * * *

Scout (wearing her pink, plastic high-heels and carrying two hand-bags): Bye-bye Mummy, I'm heading out. Me: Oh ok. Where are you going? Scout: To the Lost City.

* * * * *

Scene: kids are playing with their doctor kit. Without warning, Ralph jabs me in the leg with a toy needle.

Me: Yoww! Scout: We are doctors Mummy. It will only hurt for a second. Me (nursing actual bruise): Oh good. Will you both be doctors when you grow up? (This is a previously-stated ambition) Scout (bursting into tears): WAAAH! No! I want to be a duck when I grow up! Can I be a duck? Me: Um. Okayyy... Scout (after a thoughtful pause): But will you still let me come inside the house when I am a duck?

On mail and mindfulness

Earlier this week I convinced a woman I had only met an hour before to sit on the front porch of my house with a big pile of beautifully-designed aerogrammes on her lap, and let me take her photograph.

I stood out on the footpath and zoomed in past the rusting fence, the spring-rampant flowers and weeds (and the three-day-old junk mail trying to escape my letterbox), and focussed on the pen in her hands, her head bent over the paper, the splash of colour on the aerogrammes themselves. She was super gracious, and super patient. I climbed up onto the stone foundations of our fence to grab a taller angle, and started shooting again. Click-click, click-click ("Thanks so much for your patience, just a couple more,") click-click.

When I was done, I offered to show the woman the photographs I had taken, to make sure she was comfortable with them. I hit "preview" on the camera, and it hit me back with a somewhat heartbreaking response: "no memory card."

Shamefacedly, I had to admit to this near-stranger that I'd just wasted her time and in fact had NO photographs at all. I just didn't have it in me to ask her to wait around while I went and got the memory card and then pose her and start all again. Instead, I pulled my iPhone out of my pocket and snapped one photograph - just one - so at least I could prove that this mail hero (or at least her hands and lap) really was here.

All in all it was a bit of a lesson on being mindful, which I absolutely wasn't, which is ironic given the nature of my conversation with the woman sitting on my front porch.

Her name is Jaki and she is one half of the two-sister team behind a lovely little business called International Girl (so-named because they're all about celebrating international community, and also because Jaki lives in Singapore while her sister Kirsty lives in Australia), bringing aerogrammes to the people. I first came across International Girl while doing some research for my book on snail-mail, and I kind of fell in love with their products AND their philosophy.

First of all, they're trying to revive the almost-lost art of the aerogramme. Aerogrammes are letters that fold into envelopes, creating a very lightweight letter to send, saving you money on postage. Back in the day, when people sent so many more letters so much more often, this was an important saving.

(Fun fact: aerogrammes, also known as blueys, are still provided free of charge to every member of the British Armed Forces, to help them stay in touch with their loved ones).

Jaki and Kirsty were lucky enough to grow up in a family that travelled a lot and, even when the girls were children, they spent months or even years at a time overseas. They would use aerogrammes to write to their grandparents back home in Australia, and to stay in touch with all their friends. Fast forward a decade or two and Jaki, then living in the United States and still wanting to stay in touch with her family by mail, discovered that aerogrammes were being phased out in the States. Cue adorable business idea that incorporates so many things that matter to me:

1. Bringing back aerogrammes, to make it easy and affordable (and nowadays delightfully nostalgic) for people to stay in touch via hand-written letters
2. Supporting artists by using their work to create a lovely, visual and graphic element to the aerogrammes, which come in sets of five different designs
3. Further supporting other artists by donating a portion of the proceeds towards their work
4. Celebrating diversity and international friendships, by featuring two languages on each aerogramme ("This was a fun project in itself because it involved finding and making friends who could do the translations for us," Jaki told me)
5. Printing the aerogrammes on 100 percent recycled paper that is completely biodegradable and recyclable. This also gives it a lovely feeling of quality and substance in the hands, a step up from the flimsy, blue aerogrammes that I remember from my own childhood

International Girl aerogrammes celebrate the "slow culture" movement. I asked Jaki to tell me what this meant to her, and she said she could best equate it with what we might now call "mindfulness." It's about taking the time to really think about what we are doing, to mean it, to put our hearts into it. Writing a letter instead of banging out a text. Cooking a meal from scratch. Turning off the TV at meal times. (Turning away from social media and my phone in general when I'm with my children.)

You know what I'm talking about! We could probably all do with being a bit more deliberate and mindful, and giving more of our time to the things that matter.

All this, from a piece of paper that folds up into an envelope.

As Jaki picked up her bag to leave my front porch after the failed photo shoot, I was ridiculously awkward, because I really liked her. "Can I give you a hug?" I asked. "Because I feel like we are--"

"Kindred spirits," she finished along with me.

Getting neighbourly

A group in Switzerland has come up with a simple and rather lovely way to use your humble letterbox to build community.

But it’s not through the writing and sending of letters, it’s about sharing, and involves (gulp!) actual face-to-face contact.

You know the old saying about popping into someone’s place to borrow a cup of milk? When I was growing up, we really did that. We knew all the neighbours in our little suburban cul de sac, and they knew us. When someone new moved into the street, we would bake them a cake or pick them some lemons and we’d knock on the door with our gift, to say welcome. And if someone in the street needed to borrow something and someone else in the street had it, no problem!

Relying on that kind of old-fashioned community spirit, a group called Pumpipumpe has designed a series of stickers depicting household items that we don’t necessarily use every day: things like lawnmowers and blenders and fondue sets.

The simple idea is that if you have one of these items and might be willing to lend them to a neighbour, you put a sticker on your letterbox.

They say, “That is how you can stand up for a reasonable, sustainable way to use consumer goods in your own neighbourhood, build a local network, get to know your neighbours better and buy less all together!”

The project is deliberately low-tech. They could have built an app, or a website, designed for sharing. But Pumpipumpe is about bringing back neighbourhood: walking around the streets where you live, and still having to physically knock on the door of your neighbour, say hello, and say “yes please I’d like to borrow that bike pump.”

Likewise, they say, they leave it up to the community how they will manage or reimburse each share.

“Do you want a deposit, in order be sure to get your jigsaw back? Maybe you and your neighbour will in the end share your expenses for a common newspaper subscription? Or will you offer your neighbour a piece of the delicious cake you made with his cake tin? Please do individually discuss the ideal conditions with the people you share your things with. Pumpipumpe promotes the sharing (not renting for money) of personal belongings, so please use these generous offers of your local neighbours respectfully. Good sharing to everyone!!”

The scheme started in Switzerland and that’s where it's strongest, but is now spreading across Europe, and at last count was making use of 7290 letterboxes for the purpose of sharing and community. The Pumpipumpe people have created an online map that shows where items might be available to borrow, to save you having to roam the streets for days, searching for a sewing machine.

I’d love to see this in Australia! Wouldn’t you? We’d just need a small group of us to make it work. Like say maybe 10 friends who all live in the same city start it off, putting out their stickers and letting each other know, and then they each tell the other people they know, and hopefully it spreads from there.

Stickers are available to buy online at pumpipumpe.ch.

Cute, super-daggy video explaining it all here:

Images are all official Pumpipumpe media images, owned by Meteor Collectif.

My new blog home

Hi there! I'm just popping in today to let you know that this blog has a new home, and to let you know how that might impact you, if you subscribe (also thank you thank you thank you).

If you're thinking it doesn't look much different around here, you'd have a point. All I've actually done is to change my blog address (URL) to match my blog name (revolutionary!). So now, instead of naomibulger.com, you will find me at:

naomiloves.com

This was a move I'd long intended to make, but it happened rather unexpectedly (due to some problematic hosting issues) this week, meaning I didn't have time to warn anybody.

I'm not exactly sure how it all works, but I'm FAIRLY sure that if you subscribe to this blog, you might not receive updates any more (actually you probably won't get this post, either, so, hello? are you there?)

So... if you do subscribe to my blog (and again, thank you!!) and you didn't receive notification of this post in the usual way, but you want to continue receiving updates from me, I'd love it if you would subscribe to naomiloves.com. Here’s how, depending on how you manage your subscriptions:

Subscribe via email If you subscribed via email using the little box on the right-hand side of my website, you won’t have to change anything. You’re good!

Bloglovin Go to bloglovin.com and log in. In the “search blogs” box at the top-right of the page, type “naomiloves.com.” A preview of the site will come up in a box underneath. You might see a couple of previews (it’s weird I know, I’m sorry), choose the one displaying the most recent “latest posts,” which is probably the first preview box. From there, just click “Follow” and you’re all in.

Feedly Go to feedly.com and log in. In the “search” box on the top right-hand side, type “naomiloves.com.” A preview of the site will come up in a box underneath. Click on the little green + on the site preview, and a side-bar on the left-hand side will appear. Categorise my blog wherever you like if you do that, or else skip that step, and just click the “Add” button at the bottom of the sidebar. You’re done!

Those are the popular subscription services that I know about. If you use another, hopefully it’s easy for you to make the switch. Normally, you just need to go into the feed-reader you use, and type “naomiloves.com” into the search button. Let me know if I can help!

I want to take this opportunity to thank you for reading my blog. I absolutely love it when I hear from you, and it makes my day to know that you are here, and I’m not sending my little stories and pictures out into a life of loneliness. There is a lot of talk around the Internet world about how blogs are dying out, and social media is “where it’s at” for reaching people. I have a love-hate relationship with social media. I use it, but mostly I resent it. On the other hand, I really love this little corner of the Internet that I can call my very own. It’s ad-free, friendly, creative, celebratory, and inclusive. So I keep it going - sometimes sporadically I know - despite everything else that is going on in my life, and whether or not anyone is reading. But when I learn that YOU are reading, well, that makes it all worthwhile. I am not alone. WE are not alone!

I hope you have a wonderful weekend, dear friend. And if you haven’t already, don’t forget to use the form on my subscribe page to send me your address, so that I can send you something lovely in the mail to say thank-you for reading.

Yours truly, Naomi xo

Mail art - tea and nature

"One of the strange things about living in the world is that it is only now and then one is quite sure one is going to live forever and ever and ever.

"One knows it sometimes when one gets up at the tender solemn dawn-time and goes out and stands out and throws one's head far back and looks up and up and watches the pale sky slowly changing and flushing and marvelous unknown things happening until the East almost makes one cry out and one's heart stands still at the strange unchanging majesty of the rising of the sun--which has been happening every morning for thousands and thousands and thousands of years. One knows it then for a moment or so.

"And one knows it sometimes when one stands by oneself in a wood at sunset and the mysterious deep gold stillness slanting through and under the branches seems to be saying slowly again and again something one cannot quite hear, however much one tries.

"Then sometimes the immense quiet of the dark blue at night with the millions of stars waiting and watching makes one sure; and sometimes a sound of far-off music makes it true; and sometimes a look in someone's eyes."

~ Frances Hodgson Burnett, The Secret Garden (paragraph separation mine)

Today's week's mail-art collection is brought to you by the beauty, magic and healing power of nature. And tea.

ps. have you heard about my new letter-writing and mail-art e-course? 

Over four weeks, I will guide you through multiple methods of making beautiful mail-art and creative, handmade stationery; teach you the art of writing and storytelling; help you forge personal connections in your letters and find pen-pals if you want them; and share time-management tips so even the busiest people can enjoy sending and receiving letters. Register your place or find out more information right here. 

Zines about snail mail

Here is a thing that I didn't know was a thing, until recently: zines about snail mail. I wrote one, I know, but I thought I was the odd one out. Turns out there are other odd folks like me out there, making odd things like I do. Recently I ordered a bunch of these zines about snail mail. All in the name of research, you know?

^^ Good Company by Michelle from Busy Weekends: a little intro "how to" and ideas resource for people new to snail mail

^^ Winged Snail Mail (several volumes) by Sarah E Hoffman of Winged Snail Mail: a handy series reviewing other snail-mail zines (this snail-mail-zine thing is SUCH a thing. How did I not know?)

^^ Postal Embroidery by Britta Jarvis of Jaguar Snail: cute little snail-mail inspired embroidery ideas (not actual patterns)

^^ The Frequency Mailers' Club by Emily Alden Foster: a lovely and poignant story of a quirky pen-pal club between friends, and how friendships shift and change

^^ Parcel Ghost's Guide to Post (and other zines), by Marissa Falco: a series of fun and educational zines for children, starring "Parcel Ghost," a long-dead spirit who was once a postman

^^ Postal Adventures (vols. 1 & 2), by Marian Krick of Quietly Written: advice and creative ideas for getting started writing to pen pals

And that's just a start. There's more out there, folks. Zines specifically about snail-mail, made by these ladies, and others as well. I'm curious: who buys and reads these zines, other than me? I mean seriously? I want to meet them! Hello out there, fellow snail-mail-oddities! Thanks for making and writing and reading!