Wooden pigeonholes, a sticky rubber stamp and a slot that keeps swallowing letters. Some of this mail never got where it was going. Some of it came back.
Old picture postcards from home and up the road. Titles are given as printed on the cards.


The brick Y with a church steeple down the street. Home-town mail.

Lit windows, glowing street lamps and a Coca-Cola sign, after dark.

Horses in the pasture, white fences and a stone well.

“Governor’s Mansion, Frankfort, Ky.” and “State Capitol, Frankfort, Kentucky.”

A teetering stack of rock slabs. The card says 75 feet high.

The falls, in full roar.
Jokes, fish stories and courting couples, mailed by people long before us.

A fish swallowing a fisherman whole. Wish you were here.

Courting couples, a cowboy and his cow, “SMILE! Later today you won’t feel like it”, “Troubles are like babies…” and a New York multi-view, all in one heap.
Envelope corners, cut and kept for the stamps.
Cards drawn and lettered by hand, sent to the Manor by Robert Bohn, whose originals hang in the Art Gallery.

Hand-lettered, postmarked March 2024, numbered out of 40. One asks for a carton of Slim Jims next time Shaggy stops at the gas station. One dreams of an arctic vortex, “a swirling cold doom”, followed by a banana. The third explains it all: the project “was inspired by you and your lost art in the mail.” The mailing address is painted out. Their painted fronts hang in the Art Gallery’s Robert Bohn Wing.