Thursday, July 27, 2017

The New York Times Mail Art Project. Part Eight.

The National Magazine Subscription Service estimates there are at least 40 million old magazines lying around in offices and stored away for no good purpose in basements and attics here in the United States. They not only constitute a fire hazard, but also the potential to fuel a collage Renaissance that would keep America preoccupied until the Trump administration implodes.
And so the infamous New York Times Mail Art Project -- an enterprise that seemingly has no beginning and no foreseeable end -- turns to magazine scraps. It could prove to be the only way to avoid madness. 





Caitlin emailed a one word response to her piece:  "Cool!" 










Circus Mail Art. Continued





Submissions keep pouring in for the "What I Saw At The Circus" mail art project I started in June of this year. The history of the circus, of course, is largely made up of 'artistic' depictions of lithographic oddities and garish boasts. The entries, so far, have been interesting -- if strongly esoteric. Just what do modern artists think of when they think of the circus? As the following examples demonstrate, it's not always about clowns and elephants . . . 



























I am accepting submissions for "What I Saw at the Circus" until the end of December. So if you'd like to contribute, please send your mail art piece to:
Tim Torkildson
c/o The Provo Museum of Mail Art
PCHA Bldg
650 W  100 N  #115
Provo  Utah  84601

Headlines & Verse. Thursday. July 27. 2017.

TRUMP ADMIN ANNOUNCES: NO CIVIL RIGHTS FOR GAYS


The current Admin wants to say
You’re screwed if you choose to be gay.
Protection of rights,
Like birds in their flights,
Changes most ev’ry which way.


FINNS LIKE TO PLAY SOCCER IN THE MUD AND POLITICS ON A CLEAN PLAYING FIELD -- HOW CRAZY IS THAT?

In Finland there’s nothing but swamp,
On which it is hard for to stomp.
A soccer game there
Brings such wear and tear
That sports loses much of its pomp.



BANKS PLAY FAST AND LOOSE WITH INTEREST RATES

When banks jury rig in’trest rates,
Investors are left to their fates.
The small biznessman
Is left in the can --
And pensions are in dire straits.



NEW STUDY FINDS THAT CURSING HELPS RELIVE STRESS, TO WHICH WE ADD -- WHAT THE HELL?

Bad words are a sign of a fault
That is not excused by gestalt.
Although I admit
I often say “shit”

Whenever I spill table salt.



Wednesday, July 26, 2017

Headlines & Verse. Wednesday. July 26. 2017

PENTAGON SAYS HAWAII NOW WITHIN RANGE OF NORTH KOREAN MISSILES


It’s nice to know missiles can strike
Anyone taking a hike
Across the blue shore
Of Maui -- what’s more,

They’ll make the place like the Klondike.



TRUMP TELLS ANNUAL BOY SCOUT JAMBOREE: IT'S ALL ABOUT ME

Even the Boy Scouts are prone
To self-serving talks from the Throne --
Tradition be hanged,
If drums can be banged,
Then Trump will be beating his own.


EXPERTS PREDICT THE DEMISE OF DIESEL FUELED VEHICLES

When diesel is no longer cool,
We go back to fuels more old school --
Like cheap kerosene
Or noxious benzene --
Man and his cars make a fool.


IN CALIFORNIA THE COWS CAN GIVE MILK, BUT NOT METHANE


In Fresno they think cap and trade
Will come to the atmosphere’s aid.
There’ll be no more sprint
Of carbon footprint --
while scofflaws go to the stockade!




PHILIPPINE PRESIDENT DUTERTE THREATENS TO BOMB SCHOOLS THAT DON'T TOE THE LINE


There was an old grouch named Duterte
Who thought it so pleasant to oft say
He’d shoot and he’d bomb
Any school without qualm
That didn’t belong to his par-tay.



SWEDISH GOVERNMENT ROCKED BY MAJOR PRIVATE DATA LEAK THAT COULD HAVE BEEN EASILY PREVENTED

In Stockholm they’re all saying “oops”
We gave away huge info groups --
But don’t vote us out;
We’ll starve without clout --

Cuz no one else wants nincompoops.

Tuesday, July 25, 2017

The Wisdom of the World




Behold the world and the wisdom thereof;

The world is full of wisdom, of a kind that bringeth death.
The world and all its minions cannot stand before God’s breath.
The clerics and the soldiers and the kings upon their thrones
Do nothing to protect the world when painfully she groans.
The clashing of the ignorant, like waves upon the shore,
Goes on without effect or relevance forevermore.
Those who take but little heed of what the world may say

Are those who truly are the wise when comes the Judgement Day.

The New York Times Mail Art Project. Part Six.

I am working in poster paints today, which may have been a gaffe. The Wasatch Front is covered in clouds and mist today, so the humidity left my mail art pieces flaccid and soggy for most of the day. Then again, I was using the really cheap RoseArt Brand -- the kind you find stocked in the School Supplies aisle at Fresh Market Foods.
Be that as it may, I didn't even bother getting a brush to use with my poster paint. I figured I'd go for the old finger painting look -- something both childish and amateurish. And since I was doing the American flag, it kinda felt just right -- a deliberate reflection of the current Administration.



When notified by email of his participation in this project, he shot back this query: um okay, what do I do with it?








Mr. Palazollo responded via email:  "I'm honored! I will look out for my parcel. And once it arrives, I will gaze upon your art and reflect on the messiness of this era."

Headlines & Verse. Tuesday. July 25. 2017

SENATE POISED TO VOTE ON HEALTHCARE BILL. NO MATTER HOW THEY VOTE, IT'LL MAKE A LOT OF PEOPLE FEEL SICK


They’ll get out of sick beds to vote.
And do it most strictly by rote.
The split down the aisle
Is flowing with bile --

The AMA sits back to gloat.


WISCONSIN EMPLOYEES FLOCK TO HAVE MICROCHIPS INSTALLED UNDER THEIR SKIN

The day of the implant is here;
And there ain’t a thing you must fear.
Once you’ve got the chip
Inside of your lip
You’re tracked like a hunted down deer.


FAMILY HISTORY BECOMES BIG BUSINESS AS MILLIONS WONDER WHY GRANDPA HAD A WOODEN LEG


My ancestors gave me some genes
That show that they did not know beans
About lipid fats --
which sadly bears stats
That puts me  far off from the leans.


SCIENTISTS CONTINUE TO STUDY BRAIN FREEZE ENIGMA AS SUMMER HEAT INCREASES THE URGE TO SPLURGE ON MORE TUTTI FRUTTI

I love the taste of ice cream, as it slides down past my throat --
What care I if it makes me look like a Macy’s float?
Choc’late or vanilla, or pistachio -- who cares?
I’ll gobble any kind you got -- in basement or upstairs.
But when that luscious goodie comes in contact with the roof
Of my mouth I start to tremble like a silly goof.
The brain freeze is so terrible I wish that I were dead --
Or better yet had been raised in Sahara’s waste instead.
For there they have no ice cream, just a sandburr pudding cup --
Wrapped in my burnoose, I could eat plenty of that up!
But since my fate lays here with Ben & Jerry, I’ll endure

The needles in my cranium until they find a cure.

Monday, July 24, 2017

Cops vs Old People


There was an old man with dementia.
He waved at some cops, who did then draw
Their guns in defense,
And at the expense

Of ev’ry humane and correct law.

The New York Times Mail Art Project. Part Five.

Pablo Picasso said "The purpose of art is to wash the daily dust of life off our souls." That may be its purpose, but who decides what is dust and what is art? So far I have sent out 25 mail art pieces to journalists across America. Or have I just sent out 25 pieces of dreck? Perhaps the very act of creating them and sending them is all the art there is to them. They'll be thrown in the trash. On the other hand, maybe I've started a trend among journalists -- and these pieces will be collected and cataloged like baseball cards.
Nah . . . that's not gonna happen.