I like to send postcards when I travel -- if you're a postcard aficionado give me an address and likely you'll eventually get a card from somewhere people rarely go on vacation -- but neither the quality nor quantity of my postcard output comes anywhere near Elizabeth McClung's Postcard Project. I mentioned her just before my break, recommending you send her a postcard. I was still thinking of her when I saw a poster in town for a scrapbooking store that was going out of business. So I found the place and bought a big pile of stickers to send to Elizabeth for her project. I found that she was right: the world of stickers shows people of all ages and colours but it's hard to find a sticker of someone in a wheelchair. Sticker-designing people may not acknowledge it, so I will. Attention people who use wheelchairs, whether you live in one every day or just borrow one to ease a temporary infirmity: you exist; you are not a blight on the landscape; you are part of my society. Roll on!
Elizabeth and I have been corresponding ever since, so I've got to know her better. She's just like her blog. At first I insisted that I didn't need a postcard from the project; I felt it was intended for people who needed that pick-me-up as something to treasure or a symbol of connection with the outside world. She has recipients who have stepped back from the brink of suicide because her cards tell them someone cares. I'm usually more of a sender than a receiver of postcards, the girl who is always on the move. But it didn't seem quite fair to send things to someone who has her postal address published on the Internet and not give my address in exchange, so eventually I relented. And wow, look what I got!
Sorry about the awkward angle. I haven't figured out how to take straight on, well-lit photos without a flash reflection marring the image. As you can see, it features a marvelous antique amphibian airplane, a warm exotic locale to contrast with a cold Canadian winter, a shapely woman clad mostly in flowers, sophisticated passengers, a vintage car, and warm words. It's also a beautiful texture. I think it's the same high-quality paper they use for cigarette packages, but a slightly thicker card. This isn't the sort of postcard that you get on a little stand outside the drugstore. It's a treasure. I haven't decided yet whether to add this to the collection of things that travel with me--adding to the weight of my suitcase and risking loss in some hotel room--or whether I'll keep it at home, always waiting for me to return. Maybe it will do a bit of both.
I present it to you not just to show off, but because Elizabeth mentioned that she has a lot of recipients who like airplane postcards, and that airplane, motorcycle and horse postcards are always in greater demand than supply. I thought that amongst my readership there might be some who have some airplane-related postcards or stickers that you could send her way. If not, what she needs more than postcards are postage stamps, both US and Canadian, and basic things to try to make herself alive, as the medical establishment has pretty much given up on her. If you can't read the address on the postcard above, it's
Beth McClung(Yes, I have her permission to post that).
PO Box 2560
Port Angeles, WA 98362
Update: I notice on her wishlist that the medication that was on her wishlist has been purchased. Thank you readers for doing that. Even if you don't see anything on her list that looks medical, remember that she is a very intelligent person cooped up with pain and boredom, and that the manga and DVDs on the list are her desperately appreciated painkillers.