Postcard (no. 148)
circa 1895 to early twentieth century
A puzzle-like parade
of vagabonds and weirdos. A demon-possessed chamaeleon hisses at a black
racoon; a panther cub as dark as Indian ink perches warningly on top of a
grotesque yellow claw of the tallest male stick figure, his dress robes
seemingly made of red button mushrooms (and his other claw caressing the
buttocks of what looks like a very large and polka-dotted armadillo). Beneath
the cub is a sun-burnt neckless dinosaur (tail included) with numerous pits and
cavities and a pair of over-sized contact lenses (of which we can only see one,
thankfully). In the sky above is nothing but the deepest blue of nothingness
characteristic of the waning minutes before nightfall, topping a terrain of
green-bordered hills and white-sanded bays tumbling down to a narrow
Matisse-cut strip of lake. Making up the rear of the parade is a snake-necked,
chicken pox-stricken rooster whose remaining body - if one could name it that -
is made up of a many-tentacled, red-brick road patterned crinoline dress, the latter
being covered slightly by a yellow-specked cape. And lastly, leading this
character is a snobby-looking figure who, nose high in the air, clearly thinks
her yellow skin colour goes very well indeed with her putrid green, fur-lined
manteau (a bad choice, no doubt).
Whatever this scene
is meant to depict, the joy of guessing is at least meant to be neverending.
