We have of the universe only formless, fragmentary visions, which we complete by the association of arbitrary ideas, creating dangerous suggestions.—Marcel Proust
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My PostCardPoem series arose from the discovery of my deceased father’s large collection of vintage travel postcards. Around the same period, I happened upon (largely by accident) ways in which small fragments from a copy of Marcel Proust’s Remembrance of Things Past (shredded for another project that I was working on) could be evocatively placed directly on the postcards—glued into the image. As a kind of clandestine caption, or as a fissuring mark of dislocating intervention, Proust’s fragmentary lines of language were suddenly seen as if commenting upon their estranged new setting.
