Priority Mail

I have been playing around with oils and decided to paint one of my favorite objects- the skeleton key. I let the picture dry for a few weeks as I waited for my next wave of inspiration.

As I was writing my blog and going through old papers, I found a small stamp collection from my tween/ teenage years. Then, I received a priority mail package and an idea started forming. I decided to make a little mailbox and to hand make little envelopes for the stamps in my collection. But I wasn’t sure what I wanted to write on the tiny letters I would put inside them.

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Then it struck me- I have my moleskin notebooks that I have kept over the years, capturing my random thoughts and the thoughts of strangers. I write anything and everything in these books. At one point, I had the inspiration to ask strangers to write something in my book. I told them it was a social experiment and they were game.

It was amazing at how many people embraced the challenge. The book would pass from hand to hand in a crowded bar- always finding it’s way back to me. I would walk up to strangers and ignite a conversation, it is such a sweet feeling to see them smile and then share a piece of themselves.

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Here are 44 of those thoughts, sealed within the tiny envelopes:

my thoughts:

i’ve got it. i’ve got it all right here.

i have never asked for a chance in life. i have just taken them.

i look forward to meeting the person who loves me unconditionally, trusts me with their deepest darkest secrets. i look forward to being a better person for knowing they are here. being kind and honest and loving. i look forward to that person being me.

don’t be nervous to say hello- we are all looking for a connection.

know not what i write. don’t really care!

sometimes i wonder- who cares? am one in billions. then i think- if i have been given the ability to wonder… then i should.

if we cannot be bold, then we cannot be free.

i’m afraid if people see the dark side of me- they won’t be able to see the light.

there will come a time when my confessions will float like dandelion puffs from my lips.

people aren’t expecting you to be perfect- they are expecting you to be authentic.

sometimes when i am lonely- that’s when i am the most honest to myself.

having a burst of creativity is like running into a childhood friend.

didn’t roll outta bed being a bad ass motherfucker.

and sometimes we slip into a dream to feel awake.

i am going to regret this… until tomorrow. when i don’t care anymore.

thoughts from strangers:

people can be tools… screw em. we are better than judgmental fools. be happy.

always remember. your blood is made from the death of stars.

life is short, so live with purpose. if you die tomorrow, you will be proud & mother fuckin ready.

stop and look around from time to time. take in your surroundings. i forget to do that a lot. appreciate as much as you can. you will remember those moments that you stop and look around.

always leave the toilet seat down.

my grandmother once said- “if you call someone and they don’t call you back, don’t be offended + just call again- otherwise it’s too dramatic.

life is a beautiful struggle. make every moment and every connection count. *thanks for doing this, melissa. it’s inspiring.

love yourself first.

working jobs we hate to buy shit we don’t need.

you are beautiful.

forward ever, backward never.

my grandfather left me a letter the day he died. Last words: “y recuerda siempre, que a los arboles mas frondosos les tiran las mas piedras”. translation: haters gonna hate.

you have to risk it to get the biscuit.

If you are going to be self-conscious, only do it alone, with yourself judging. also, if it feels like you have a spider in your food- you probably do. check!

laugh. a lot.

you can do anything. literally, ANYTHING. make it great.

don’t scratch it, it will only get worse. hydrate and use ointment. trust me. i know.

don’t trust anything said to you by a man in a bar.

you will never regret the chances you take in life… save one. never gamble on a fart!

every time you conform to the norms and expectations of those who surround you, you lose a little bit of your identity and existence.

that’s the thing about pain. it demands to be felt.

whether you think you can, or think you can’t- you’re right.

without art, earth would just be “eh”.

we all deserve infinite love.

if I never take a risk, i’ll never know what would have happened. i’ll just continue to stay the same. make it happen.

i’m secretly suicidal and depressed.

get all the things you want in life. don’t do anything you don’t want to do.

love, peace, and chicken grease.

don’t sit down with your thumb in your ass.

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