The intellectual equivalent of a ham sandwich.

Attn: Ellen (2/12/14)



Back (apologies for my handwriting!)


The text of the postcard is

Dear Ellen,

I think it’s time for me to begin my ultra post modern art career (where I’ll draw simple shapes then write sexual phrases in a sensual font (God knows what that means), like a circle and then “hubba hubba”). The key is not my art, that’s rock solid, but instead to have a nutty art critic love my work, THEN all the other critics need to give rave reviews so they won’t appear to be heind.

Easy peasy!


Why am I doing this?

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