opp & the olivettis

Four of my best mates have signed on for the Oilcan Pen Pals project. Rationale: my mental machinery works best as a standalone unit, but the social tune-ups, however much I try to avoid them with guarded, excessive alone time, keep me attuned, adaptive, curious. So all that means is it’s time: I haven’t had a steady pen pal since the fourth grade and my Underwood’s grumbly and lonesome for work these days. What a good day to shop for stamps.

I don’t get to have tea and cake with some of my favorite folks flung all around the country and at various intl outposts, so we’ll trade leisurely letters on all things literary (and whatever else there is). I’ll diversify it: origami, pressed weeds, treasured shadow box item giveaways, poems, poems, poems, rocks, clippings, and thoughts on both the swirling plastic flotsam and the anchored rustbuckets at my life’s noble, oceanic depths.

And for you and yours, I’ll post whatever’s permitted by way of excerpts and exhibitions, as it occurs to me.