I have had my current phone [model] for something like four or five years. In fact, I spilled coffee on it back in 2008 and had to replace it, with the same model, and when the buttons started getting wiry from too much usage last summer, I went on eBay and ordered the same old fogie phone to replace it. When it comes to electronics, and well, most things in general, I try to stay behind the times. There is something un-"American" in me that despises and disdains the materialism, the "new and improved" aspect of things, actually just waste and frivolity that America touts...wears like a badge. This is especially apparent around this time of year.
Sometimes when I get out into the woods and go backpacking, or travel to another country, I delight in my forced inability to use my phone. There is no need to make an excuse for being out of reach. It just marvelously is.
|(See look how happy I am!)|
There are a few remaining antiquated spinsters like I, who appreciate the beauty of the written word and the elation that comes with getting something delivered in the "snail mail" (that isn't junk or bills or taxes or pay stubs)...
One is my friend Elyse:
|'angles' by elyse|
|'arm, arm ( the couch story)', 2007 by me|
I also enjoy being art pen-pals with my six-year-old cousin, Kate. She has no idea about the i-Phone or email or any of that stuff that clogs our brains and depersonalizes everything personal. Her work is innocent, spontaneous, and sweet. (...and I gotta get that while I can!)
|diptych by kate|
|art trade for kate, 2010 (by me)|
And finally is my un-"American" soul mate, also "discontent with the sedentary life of the modern world and prefer to throw our hearts into the wind" , to use his words, who recounted how he once told his mother, when asked what "I will be when I grow up", that he would like to work for the pony express.
|deer and two hearts by daniel|
|'I'll give you my heart(s), if you give me yours', 2010|
No, thumb-punched emails on my hand-held digital universe cannot, will not, replace the joy of receiving hand-made art or handwritten letters in my literal physical mailbox. He sums it up quite nicely:
"And so alas, I remain a modern man in the modern world scribing careful post cards only fit for some one else who also understands the romance of receiving mail delivered by pony."