Claim:
I thought I’d try my hand at making an anonymous postcard instead of submitting a claim. I tried to keep the spirit of keeping it simple like the real project, and I like the way it turned out. I hope you like it as well. There is just something about handmade things made with thought. I think they are wonderful no matter how simple. I try to be slightly clever, but completely honest and sincere.
I have not known you that long, though I get more excited to see you, and trust you more than many people I know/have known. You have just the right amount of oddity to you. It’s great, it really is. I think your very interesting. It’s extremely rare that I meet a person who I’m comfortable around so quickly, it’s a good feeling to have. It usually takes months of time for me to feel half as comfortable as I do. I feel we are connected in various strange ways like the accordion, and quilts, and other great things. As though we share commonalities I don’t find in so many people, especially not in the same frequency. I especially like how your genuinely love stripes. I have liked them for a great time, though I feel I can never find amazingly stripped things for men, which makes me sad. They are generally so regular and bland.
I also really enjoy the conversations we have. They can seemingly be about just about anything and at least for me, it’s an interesting conversation. It has gone from flowers to experiences with children, to the accordion and banjo, books, movies, cartoons, etc. Talking about old movies I haven’t seen in a while is a blast. I don’t know why, but it seems like I’m always happy when this occurs, and sad when it ends, but leave it smiling and more lighthearted than before.
One of the most wonderful things is your use of the word “precious”. I believe I have mentioned this before, but it is worth reiterating. Every time you defend something being “precious” it is well…precious. It is especially so when you say it in a exclamatory way as in “HE IS PRECIOUS!!”. It is fantastic, and genuine,  and I love it. Few phrases spoken by any person I’ve ever met compare.
You are the one of the most interesting people I have met in a long time. I don’t know nearly enough about you, though if we continue to be friends (which I sincerely hope we do) I would imagine I’ll learn more. We need to plan to have a “so you were born…” conversation sometime. We can even find muffins the size of small planets. So please-pretty-please when the semester ends, don’t let it be the end of us hanging out, as has happened to me numerous times. For me, it would be quite sad. I hope that one day we’ll have great, wonderful, random adventures together.

The man with the long beard, rides his bike slowly. He peddles with ease, as I pass him.

March 18
The big man, in the big Cadillac, with the big beard, made a very big u-turn.

March 19
The man with the long beard, rides his bike slowly. He peddles with ease, as I pass him.

March 20

March 21
The girls giggled as they walked by, each in a different colored peacoat.

Life is weird sometimes ,and when there are roadblocks, sometimes you need to take the street you’ve never been down before but have faith that it will get you where you need to go, or perhaps at least a new and interesting place. It may not always be where you expect it to. Just fasten your little seat beat and enjoy the ride.

The story goes like this….

I was planning on going to the art building tonight, to experiment with aquatint, as well as print some other things I’ve done. I was told I couldn’t go in by a lady police person, but that has become for the most part unimportant. The only thing that is important is that it ended up becoming a catalyst for thought. It made me come back to my room and check out my professor’s website.

His self imposed ban on what was apparently one of his favorite places; in Union Park to make himself a “tourist” again in a sense; to make him pay attention to other things, and the park itself really got me thinking. The art building really is my drug of choice. For some reason it provides a place I connect with, but many times I don’t really enjoy it to it’s fullest extent. I mean I obviously can’t really ban myself from it (and graduate). I haven’t really explored Greensboro either, but have sat comfortably around and just fallen into a routine when I don’t really go out and do things out of the norm. I’m so scared of failure and unfamiliarity that in many cases I have let it hold me back like cinder-blocks tied to my feet.

I read several articles on his site, viewed videos and other things, and something inside my head just snapped. I just got that hunger back to really do something and to stop let things hold me back that shouldn’t. I hope this feeling lasts. It’s been a while since I felt it. I am so color based in virtually all of my works, that etching will provide a good challenge. I am not a big black and white person at all, and I’m used to being overly maticulus with my drawings/paintings. It took me outside of my comfort zone a little, but I still had the plush-lazy-boy-of-comfortability in recliner mode, with the footrest up, and I need to shake things up a bit.

Can you tell I’m kind of fired up right now? It’s been a weird, yet very good day…

After thoroughly fortifying myself with essentials [Sobe & Reese's Pieces....(mmmm) and a cigarette] I trudged up to make my sad-little-broken down-rusty-beat making-robo man in the Art Building, in the rain. I was ready for this, as I also had my umbrella. My etching plate was there and the Art Building is one several of my “Fortresses of Solitude” [as well as swings in a secret location... but shhhh!]

[here comes the backstory]

He really is a sad little music making man. Born in Ukraine [supposedly] he was one at the forefront of his trade of one-band-smanship. Playing his beloved accordion, doing his little fun dance (see Eugene Hutz of Gogol Bordello for what I envision), and producing amazing beats from his head/speak/thing/watchamacallit. He had come to America, and was living his dream of being a great musician, that is until the day his little music crank broke. He is not sure exactly when or where he lost it, New York is a big place.

Since losing his crank, he’s become a real mess. His once shiny exoskeleton is now dreary and rusted [oh dear!]. He still plays his accordion, but now it’s while sitting on his little oddly shaped, little makeshift stool on the corners, any corners, hoping to make enough money to get his crank back so he can accompany his accordion playing with the sounds of balkan brass, techno, or whatever other supreme beat he wants to use. He saved up his money to buy a neat little crank at a local pawnshop, but unfortunately it didn’t fit just right, so now he is saving up money to get it retro-fitted….

[THE END!]

I’m feeling sad for him [he needs a name, but I can't think of one right now, maybe some pun off Johnny 5?] so I may end up doing a series for this explaining his situation further, from beginning of the conflict to a full resolution. I would have to leave him as a hobo trying to succeed…

Oh, and I’m mostly done, but when exiting the art building it was SNOWING like crazy. I placed him on the windowsill so he could enjoy the snow. I was prepared for rain, but definitely not for the snow when I left. It was cold…cold cold cold…

That’s just a taste of some of the amazingness I’ve found. Some people do silly things for attention, some do it for fun, some do it because they are just plain CRAZY…