2026. Salvaged cardboard, cut paper and photos, handwritten text.I began taking clown classes in 2024, when I was heavily pregnant with my daughter. As a clown, I noticed that I was given a lot more permission to do things that may be embarassing or cheesy.
One such thing was sending love letters out into the world. This letter series grew out of an impulse to send small gushy notes to those who have nurtured the clown spirit in appreciation and admiration. Several cards feature my daughter—the clown’s greatest teacher—whose movements and curiosity shape the work. Fifteen handmade cards were mailed or hand-delievered to its recipients.
Interestingly, one third of the cards never made it to their destination, a failure rate that simply just delights the clown.