A note: like all my “pin reviews,” this is not sponsored in any way and merely reflects my desire to share my whimsical adventures in collecting small metallic works of art. Onward!
I remember a brief period in my preteen life when all “friendship”-themed accessories – handmade bracelets, necklace pendants that matched, and of course the quintessential “broken-in-half” charms – absolutely transfixed me. Considering that I am now more than a decade away from being twelve, perhaps it’s a little unusual that I, a grown adult woman, wanted to share this set of pins with my grown adult sweetheart for Valentine’s Day…but I suppose I am more than a little unusual by nature.
And I can’t resist a good cetacean-themed accessory.
Though I’m usually not one to read too many analyses of the state of the internet, I seem to be prone, at the moment, to stumbling upon articles that bemoan the death of blogging. As I have seen more than a few of my favorite blogs from past years vanish into obscurity – often replaced by a robust Instagram account instead – I sense a degree of truth to this blogging-eschatology.
I don’t want to start singing an influencer-inspired version of “The Last Unicorn” yet, though, because I still find this medium the most compelling vehicle for sharing stories. So here I am, with my Instagram private (and honestly less appealing to me these days): attempting to keep my own little virtual storybook alive instead!
Here ends this unnecessary set of musings: onward to envelopes!
The animated unicorn-and-bunny pair above arrived in mid-January in this beautiful conservatory of an envelope.
As someone who finds winter to be the most challenging and dispiriting time of the year, I usually prefer colorful, summery stamps: but even I must admit that the “Winter Birds” have captured my heart, and I have a booklet of them awaiting me in my craft room.
More than one elegantly decorated brown-craft-paper envelope appeared in my mailbox over the past few weeks – I adore them! – and they inspire me to reminisce about my snail-mail-crafting habits of about four years ago. For a while, I loved embellishing brown envelopes with a few artfully placed stickers or cut-outs: perhaps it’s time for me to resurrect that pretty style again? Something like that unicorn, I imagine, would look particularly enchanting on a neutral backdrop!
About a year ago, I halted my long-standing tradition of blogging about the mail I received. Somehow I’d turned the delightful pastime of documenting beautiful letters into a responsibility, and I felt a great deal of self-imposed pressure to photograph mail before I’d even read what they contained (mostly due to the fact that limited winter light rarely allows for good picture-taking indoors!).
To be honest, though, I did so enjoy possessing a visual diary of the letters that traveled to me from various corners of the world. With that in mind, I’m resurrecting my old series with a slight twist: as the title suggests, I will mainly feature stamps and envelopes, with some (assorted) exceptions.
The almost-equitorial skies of my childhood dazzle me every time I return home. Thanks to the welcome lack of light pollution intervening between my eyes and the heavens, the sky sparkles with a clarity unmatched in any suburban setting.
I made these envelopes just before I left on my trip – during one fleeting moment of post-semester freedom! – and their stellar sensibility seemed to prefigure the celestial adventures awaiting me here…
pure imagination ♥ the whole world is a garden ♥ odontocetes and others
diving into the wreck ♥ lost worlds ♥ pastel imperfections
It might be tempting to characterize 2018 as a “Dark Age” for my snail mail productivity and hope that a glorious Renaissance awaits me in 2019. Given the surprising amount of medieval art scholarship I’ve done in the past year, however, I would never bandy about the reductive stereotype of the “Dark Ages” lightly. In fact, just as the Middle Ages featured some truly remarkable artistic and architectural developments, I would argue that my low-letter year has included a few instances of rather satisfying envelope-crafting.
Looking back through these posts has been honestly a little frustrating, though: I remember, for example, excitedly making those dinosaur envelopes in July with very particular recipients in mind (you may know who you are) – and then not actually having the time to send the letters until months later. What a difference from January, when I put together those envelopes from the most glorious mermaid-themed paper pack and sent them off into the world days after!
I considered deleting this blog altogether a few times this year, but I think I’ll give it another concerted try and see what happens. It’s now officially been four years (four!!) since I started my pen pal journey in January 2015, and it’s always been a joy to document the art I send and receive, the friends I’ve made, and the massive assortment international stamps I’ve collected as a result. I don’t want to stop!
I know I have not been the world’s most reliable correspondent this year, but I have not stopped thinking about you, pen pals who might be reading this! And to anyone who used to write to me but hasn’t been able to for a while – please feel free to get in touch with me. I’d love to hear from you again, and I promise I won’t judge: I’ve been there myself!
(It’s probably no surprise that I’ve enjoyed reliving the Golden Age of my snail mail days by reading through my 2017, 2016, and 2015 “Year in Letters” posts – here’s hoping 2019’s list will join their illustrious ranks!)
With our wedding just over a month away (seriously!), I find myself overwhelmed with strange desires – a bizarre attachment to the notion of programs that double as hand-fans, a craving for customized bubble wands, and a yearning for a stereotypical T-shirt printed with some variation of “Bride.” (Even though I never wear T-shirts: not even Emily Dickinson ones.)
A little while ago, I became fixated on the notion of wearable gifts for the “wedding party” – which consists of me, my mom, and my sister – that would capture the spirit of the event and lend our appearances some small element of cohesion. I spent hours transfixed by the bridal charm bracelets on Etsy, but nothing really won me over: and, to be honest, I became quite convinced that I could make one myself.
Enter these Tolkien-inspired bracelets, which I cobbled together from bulk-bought charms curated by a whimsical eye!
Over the past week, I’ve written and mailed upwards of eight letters: far surpassing the unimpressive number I sent within the past few months. Isn’t summer break grand?
In fact, I worked through my inventory of available envelopes with such great speed that I soon found myself in need of more — and equally in need of an excuse to take advantage of sales on ocean-themed crafting supplies at a particular local vendor. Glimpsing the gem-like radiance of these colors — like the brightness of a coral reef seen when you first dip your eyes below the waterline — fills me with an energy I’ve not felt since I last left the Pacific an August ago.
As I approach an upcoming anniversary of my college graduation, I’ve found myself both strangely nostalgic and bewildered at how quickly the time has passed. I’ve been living in this town for almost four years, writing letters for three and a half, and blogging here for about the same amount of time. To satisfy my curious yearning for the past, I’ve plumbed the abyssopelagic depths of my old journals, planners, and letters, searching for some distant meaning like a diver on the hunt for algae-covered treasure.
Perhaps the style of these envelopes reflects my sentimental mood: back in the days before I knew how to make my own, I often decorated envelopes with various taped layers of patterned papers! I hope to see these real-life version of these oceanic spectrums of blue in person very soon – even if only on the shores of the Atlantic.