BAD POSTCARDS: images-nothing

By Amanda García. May 11, 2012

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A HAREM of PALMS GREETINGS from the DATE EMPIRE | http://bad-postcards.tumblr.com/
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A HAREM of PALMS GREETINGS from the DATE EMPIRE | http://bad-postcards.tumblr.com/

On personal and irrelevant anecdotes: I have moved house ten times. Ten times I have packed my books: they are all heavy, I had to leave a few on the way hoping to find them again someday. Others, with a lighter paper (recommendation to editors: weightless paper) are still with me. I don’t know accurately which have been with me since the beginning, I’m only sure about one: Boring Postcards. And that’s because it is indispensable for me, I turn to it every time I have a creative block. It’s not my source of inspiration; it’s more of a source of consolation. It shows me that I am not alone, that many of us can have boring ideas. I spend many hours imagining what could have crossed the photographer’s mind to decide for that non-framing, the one that doesn’t say anything.
 

And bad ideas are even worse, like the image of a clever man that picks up a little boy and takes him to school. Who could be interested in receiving such a scene in the mail? Which, in fact, could be any other scene: it really seems like that man is very happy to share a poem straight from his hand with those who are with him, who obviously force a smile to avoid spoiling the man’s excitement. It could be. Another terrible one is the image where we can see some sort of old paper, damp and dirty, unclear among a group of ordinary rocks. The believed paper is really a famous crystal cave, unflattering by photographic art. Also, the image of a girl who clearly isn’t enjoying herself as she observes the scientific item placed in front of her doesn’t seem to be good advertising for the science museum.
 

But I am the one who would be interested in receiving that postcard with the forced scene of the man with his paper, with the lady and the boy each with their own papers. Not only because I take delight in other people’s failures, but because images-nothing, or bad communication, in the end do give me ideas. Creativity comes when we can make the most of mistakes, accidents, of what shouldn’t have happened, comedy. I wish I received bad postcards, selected specially to elude all interest, but to offer me mistakes. While I keep on waiting for them, I can find some consolation in Bad Postcards.

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