I made a tumblr for my postcard poems & those I've received. They're tumbling out now, in accordance with the wait-a-month-to-post rule. If you're interested, let me know & I'll point you there.
As I was scanning cards before sending I knew it was so that I'd have the option to post, but I had to not think about the posting part. Funny, the relationship I have with audience. Complicated & weird.
I have been starting to let myself think about film, as in -making. Today while mowing I took my phone out of my pocket with the idea of getting a picture of a caterpillar I had avoided mowing to bits. It had (still likely has) one stripe around its middle. A wooly bear, it seems. There's folklore associated with them suggesting that narrower stripes in a summer's wooly bears mean a harsh winter is coming. By the time I had my phone out & ready, wooly bear had crawled to obstructed-view territory, down in the thickness of my already-mowed turf, so I put the phone back in my pocket.
When I finished & returned the mower & came in to the dog & washed a few dishes & put some coffee on & noticed my pocket felt hotter than the rest of me, I took the phone out and found that I'd been filming the inside of my pocket for 8 minutes. I'd also captured two other short videos as I walked back from Bert's, a little limpingly.
It's some visually more interesting footage than I'd have expected, mostly because of the stripey pattern shorts I have on. The main surprise about the audio is that I was whistling to myself frequently. Had no idea I'd been doing that. There's a lot of Lula panting on the soundtrack, too.
Film. Why not. I understand some of its language.