A Journal of the Poetic Arts
July 1997
The Painted Word - Paintings and Poems by Shawn R. Tribe
INTRODUCTION Prologue- "The Artist's Statement" - "Woman with Jar", 10.07.95, Acrylic on Canvas, 25"x37" Section 1- "Cubist Exploration and Experimentation" Shapes of Duchamp Cubist Poetry Study #1 Cubist Vision Cubist Circle Standing Nude - "Portrait of Salvador Dali", 01.92, Oil on Canvas, 30"x40" - "Still Life with Roses", 11.27.92, Oil on Canvas, 16"x20" - "Woman with Guitar", 01.23.94, Oil on Canvas, 37"x42" Section 2- "Portrait of the Artist as a Younger Man" Art AAASDFSDHAS!!!Jf'aslkdf The Artist's Soul Picasso's Mirror AUGGGGG The Painters The Realm of Creativity Manacle - "In the Garden", 10.91, Oil on Canvas, 30"x40" - "Nude Figure Study #2", 09.26.94, Acrylic on Canvas, 25"x35" Section 3- "Metamorphoses" Joyce in Retrospect - "Autumn Oak", 06.23.96, Acrylic on Canvas, 18"x55.5" - "Nude Figure Study #1", 1995-6, Conte on Manila Paper, 18"x24" - "Transcendence #1", 06.21.96, Acrylic on Canvas, 40"x50" Section 4- "Stream of Consciousness" Ode to Finnegan - The translation Sane or Insane Circle Pictorial Ankh Zed Hue Manger IV - Portrait of Carl Jung", 01.19.94 , Conte on Manila Paper, 18"x24" POST SCRIPTUM Epilogue- "A Tribute" Poets - "God's Masterpiece #1", 10.01.94, Acrylic on Canvas, 25"x47"
Prologue- "The Artist's Statement"
When I was first approached about putting together an assortment of my poems and placing them alongside a few of my paintings I was intrigued. It seems to me that poetry and painting have a natural relation -- for the differences between the two remain only tactile. Whether it be paint and canvas or pen and paper a medium is being used as a vehicle for self expression. This common desire acts as a bond of unity between all artists. This edition comprises selections of poems written mainly in the 1992-93 period. Generally speaking, they fall along an artistic theme - that meaning one of two things: 1) the trials, tribulations, and explorations of the artistic experience; or 2) the artistic endeavour of exploring the accepted bounds of the medium. For myself, sifting through poems I hadn't read in years was a worthwhile exercise. It gave me a chance to see how I had developed in the past years both artistically and intellectually. In some cases I found that I had continued to develop or move forward on an idea that I had expressed earlier; in others I remained static or outrightly rejected my previous thought. On a personal and artistic level, the value of this exercise was to show myself where I had come from, how I got where I am today, and most importantly, where I am going. This edition represents a little piece of my artistic past. The eleven paintings selected vary from different periods spanning approximately 6 years. Some of the paintings will correspond directly with the poetry presented, whilst others will be purely for autonomous viewing. It is my sincere hope that you derive some sort of value from this little collection of poems and paintings.
Shawn R. Tribe (stribe@kwic.com)
NOTE: Most of the paintings and drawings in this edition are for sale directly from the artist. The prices for these works are listed beneath the images. All prices are in Canadian funds but S&H charges are not included and would be added to the amount. Some of the paintings have been hand framed by the artist but some have not; those which are framed will be identified as such. As well, the sizes of the pictures are not necessarily exact to the millimetre, but are generally rounded off; exact measurements could be arranged if one is interested. Interested buyers should either contact the artist via the email address listed above, or a mailing address and phone number may be attained through YGDRASIL's editor, Klaus Gerken and, of course, by emailing the artist himself.
"Woman with Jar", 10.07.95, Acrylic on Canvas, 25"x37"; $400 (framed)
Section 1- "Cubist Exploration and Experimentation"
Shapes of Duchamp ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ t C i s q u e r e r s a l i l c ' e r g n a , C u all shapes, r of daDaxaxis. v Dynamic Machines, e Futurists s of w h a t? the Eiffel tower, no l o n g e r a symbol of it, perspective died and so with it does Futurism. w ? h w a o t n we ask, no one answers. the artists' peril begins.
Cubist Poetry Study #1 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ [CUbeS], (ciRCLeS) = liFELIne. PHIlisTine not undeRSTand, Y? <-opEn-> reaLM of cREatiVity 2 them. Let them sEE MAjestY! *** LOve of aRT, eXpreSSioN wITHin, pURsUe youR goals, {BReak} the rUles, whAT? NO rUles? STYles = [CUbisM], .pOINtilisM., sURRRRealisM, Realism, aBsTrAcT, etcetera. chOOse your DEStinY, aRTisan.
Cubist Vision ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Can you imagine what I see? To look at an object, not seeing its depth or mass, merely seeing the bold lines of its creation. To look at a floor and see the intricate patterns of geometrical lines. Tall buildings, people, trees, all become mass components of lines, cubes, and circles. My world is analytical, and two dimensional, the demented vision of an artist? Or merely the world of creativity?
The Cubists Circle ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ They looked into the room, saw cubes and circles, great cylinders. The torment of such a cruel device no canvas to capture. White, more torture. Both beauty and torment. Blank canvas of possibility, blank canvas of uncreativity. Explosion in a shingle factory; what trife. A beautiful array a planes and shapes. Squares, circles, triangles, lines. The cubists lifeline. The dissector of the subject: analyzing with intensity. Why do they criticize what they do not understand? Why can they not open their minds? It is our job to open the gates of creativity to them... or become the subject of our geometrical massacre.
Standing Nude ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The grand female nude, beautiful forms and caresses, tones and shapes so subtle, that to the untrained eye, do not even exist. But I, I have painted a different nude, a simplified nude, where those subtle forms have been completely eliminated, and the curves and caresses, have been changed straight edges, and points like piercing knives. This nude has no complete form, and the profile and frontal face, are seen at once; that face is like a white mask, with a piercing black eye, with no pupil with which to see. For this figure stands upon her wood panelled floor, in front of her window; and what is it that you see through that very window... my world.
"Portrait of Salvador Dali", 01.92, Oil on Canvas, 30"x40", $400
"Still Life with Roses", 11.27.92, Oil on Canvas, 16"x20"
"Woman with Guitar", 01.23.94, Oil on Canvas, 37"x42", $450 (framed)
Section 2- "Portrait of the Artist as a Younger Man"
Art ~~~ Why? Tell me why it is that in an art school I cannot choose to create what I wish to create? Why should I conform to the wishes of a Professor's vision rather than my own? Why is it that they tell me what I am to do, and how I am to do it? Is art not a personal experience? Why should I share my experience with you? I would gladly share it, just do not impose your vision upon me! Why? Why do they do this to me? How can they evaluate what they cannot see? Why do they insist upon trying to change me? When they change my art they are trying to change me. I refuse to conform to the personal vision of another. I refuse to create in the manner in which you do. I am not you. If they could just open their minds, let me walk my way through it, I need no guide. Help is certainly appreciated, when asked for. I did not come here to learn how you go about art. I came here to learn more about my art. I came here to experience art, to consume all I can. My peers, they have dissapointed me somewhat. To think I would be able to get away from those closeminded to art, those who are closed to the works of Picasso and the likes, those who can accept and enjoy modern art; then to find that they themselves have closed their minds, they have become the infantile philistine's who denounce it. They see art as a business opportunity, I hold a much different view. Art is a personal experience, if you can enjoy revenue from it, that is a bonus, not a requirement. They have been consumed by a commercialized society, they hold an unpure view. Commercialization is fine, as long as it is taken in moderation. The world of art has taken a downward curve, no longer is art a passion, no longer is art personal expression, art is a business now. To the few of us who hold a more passionate view of art, I bid you not become depressed, for although there seems to be few of us anymore, our presence will always be felt.
AAASDFSDHAS!!!Jf'aslkdf ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ What is the title? IT is what I feel right now! I feel as though madness has encompassed me. The passion within burns, I CANNOT GET ENOUGH OF THE ARTS! I want more I want it to envelop me creativity, SURROUND ME. [babababababablink] I become restless, I listen to Erik Satie; Picasso's friend. I want to live their lives! Frustration! [bie esasasdd tue qes dididi] Is my own art good enough? Will I succeed? Or am I doomed to live the life of the dull masses, punching the clock of a nine-to-five desk job? I CANNOT! I WILL NOT! Art and creativity must form a direct lifeline to my soul! I fear, if it does not, I will be lost in an asylum. [BLAH!] DAADDAODOXXXADISITXKWQERPDDSISISISIS!!!!!!!!!!!!
The Artist's Soul ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I bet you actually think you know what it feels like to be an artist. [YOU!] I bet you think you understand my paintings. [YES YOU!] Guess what... you're wrong. Can you tell me you know what it feels like to have this passion burning within you that calls you to pick up brush and paint? Can you then tell me what it feels like to have done this yet the desire and passion remain unfulfilled, and worse, it has turned to frustration? For this is what I feel. It reaches down into your soul and tears a piece out. Likewise with the product: the painting. People will view it merely as some sort of decorative object to hang on their wall. To me, it is much more. To me, each of those paintings holds a piece of my soul within it. But people cannot grasp this, I have heard as such: "It is only a painting!" ONLY A PAINTING? No more than my arm is only an appendage to my body! But never mind, you probably won't understand anyway.
Picasso's Mirror ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ i woke up. went, had a shower. then i saw it. the mirror. who is that? no one i recognize. the reflection is a lie. such internal struggle. the person whom you see, is not the person you want to be. yet there aren't any around you that you would wish to be either. what to do. struggle onwards, countless others have done so. ignore the mirror. it is a reflection of what is now, not of what is to be! nor does the mirror show the important part of the human: the soul. the mirror merely shows the physical side, the inferior side, the shell. in the end, i smashed that mirror to pieces.
AUGGGGG ~~~~~~~ FRUSTRATION! ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.. in a matter of 10 days I have painted 9 paintings, but now on the 10th day, the ninth painting is USELESS to me! it is immature, and non-characteristic of my style! and now, I question whether or not I even hold the ability that I had through the past 9 days. I MUST paint something soon to regain my confidence; I need something cubist to regain my composure. THIS TEARS INSIDE OF ME! I HATE THIS FEELING! I ripped that canvas from the stretcher before the paint was yet dry. I could have painted over it, but I must rid myself of the accursed thing. Now I must decide whether to merely roll it up, or to destroy it permanently. At this very moment, I opt for its destruction; death by fire.
The Painters ~~~~~~~~~~~~ and then there are the painters... they are those whom struggle... for each time they pick up the brush... and paint... they submit themselves to scrutiny. one might wonder why they do so; call it passion, [OUI] need, [OUI] want, [OUI] stupidity? [NON] they might use colour, they might not. they might be realistic, they might not. isn't it exciting? but we have a weakness now, it is a business now, but I am not a business man. for I am a painter.
The Realm of Creativity ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ With arms flowing, brushes scraping, the creation of a new world. A world not unlike our own; love, hate, war, peace. Yet not like it either. A world of distortion, and of no perception. We become the God of this new realm. We control its matter, subject, and appearance. We also hold the key to its destruction. Destruction of such a world would be too great a loss however. Like an explorer, we must investigate it and unlock its potential. Each realm bears it own unique features and name: cubism, surrealism, pointilism, and others. All however, fall under the realm of creativity.
Manacle ~~~~~~~ Thirsting... yes, that is what it is. An unquenchable desire which is unfulfilled, unrealized, immoblized. Even now I sit and muse, I ponder my dilemma. Autonomy... release me from these manacles of mind and body, which hold back, restrict. Why did I submit myself to such folly, such childishness, such closed-mindedness? And now my journey back seems more arduous. To paint. That is both my means and end. Suffer me this dryness I feel. When the paint and canvas is primed then is my mind, my passion, trapped. When the paint and canvas is not 'midst then do I struggle not to die. Even now should I be there. But I am not. Why? My own psychology works against me. Like the man to tired to sleep, so I. One must continue to strive, to work. Re-submit oneself again. Build again what the fires of fanaticism plundered. "An it harm none, do what thou wilt."
"In the Garden", 10.91, Oil on Canvas, 30"x40", $400
"Nude Figure Study #2", 09.26.94, Acrylic on Canvas, 25"x35", $400 (framed)
Section 3- "Metamorphoses"
Joyce in Retrospect ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Cutting the pieces, unnecessary bits that clutter the subconcious. Artist of the Portrait as a Man Young said the student to the priest; go Wake Finnegan and proceedeth to Dublin in reply to he, for you will be a Hero. Forget not the story said wise Dedalus to Icarus, so the wax may not fall in the heat of passion as young Stephen so did. The Roman Odysseus appeared in a title, which was to be ended by one mere sentence. The rector will be most unpleased, make haste to Blackrock and remember the sacred words... Tower of Ivory, House of Gold.
"Autumn Oak", 06.23.96, Acrylic on Canvas, 18"x55.5", $425
"Nude Figure Study #1", 1995-6, Conte on Manila Paper, 18"x24", $200
"Transcendence #1", 06.21.96, Acrylic on Canvas, 40"x50", $575
Section 4- "Stream of Consciousness"
Ode to Finnegan - The translation ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ he walked to and fro' by the ocean with the pftschute. such a pet was truly great. the pftschute is a friend of Finnegan. In the fall (bababadadumdilizinxsdasquatrevuz!) Finnegan strolled along with him. Wedding on the Eiffel tower! an incomprehensible piece of literature. none can comprehend such a master. the margin's are full of greek symbols and of musical scores and of footnotes and of. reading it will not help for no matter how much reading you do, you cannot ever comprehend this literature. Joyce was indeed a creative master. to create such a language. how? five-hundred-odd-pages of new language! how? people denounce his literature. saying Joyce is too confusing! creative is the word. to quote: Primum opifex, altus prosator, ad terram viviparam et cunctipotentem sine ullo pudore nec venia, suscepto pluviali atque discinctis perizomatis, ... highly prosy, crap in his hand, sorry! end quote. the complexities of this is amazing! latin and greek was his study. "sorry!" to the puritans who believe that the English language should be honoured and protected. but from Joyce and i: dadadicicantexvouvouvouzezvouz! (dadaist's of the language!) too all that Joyce has accomplished I wish him "extra gratitude". Dublin. I share the mother country, the heritage. he died though. wasted. del mon conteh! I only hope to see part of the genius. Literature. X. - In honour of Finnegan's Wake and the creator.
Sane or Insane? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Hickory, dickory, dock, the mouse ran up the escalator, said old grandmother; and do not eat green jello on a Sunday either. The boy sat and watched his dear, but insane grandmother. Insane by the standard's of a species which destroys one another and the organism which they live and breed upon. Condemned by the siblings, impassionate fools, whom mistrust their own creator. Laughing, LAUGHing, LAUGHING, louder and LOUDER, behind her back; who would not go insane? Locked in an attic, with only the foul, diseased rats to keep her company, except of course for the lonely boy by her side. Who is it that is insane? Well, I won't eat green jello on Sundays.
Circle ~~~~~~ A circle has 4 sides, inside a square. A circle has 5 sides, inside a triangle She used to 'hang out' alot, I guess she was a stripper. Dadaxaxis.
Pictorial Ankh ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ so I said too the guy hey you've got something that's stuck on those shoes your goin into Ed's home sobe care ful!
Zed Hue Manger IV ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ E=mcı | equals McSquared pieRı derivitive add minus equal math: logical organized standard left brain dominant ism's colour shape density mass passion fire distance power illumination art: creative different exciting right brain dominant del commenth artisian soulba dimantre qan vante y comie teh des commatre et voz shalmiz redana et matisse. Language: vocal creativity Poetry: literary creativity Art: Visual creativity Science: Mathematical creativity If the Gardener was to walk on the water, should we obey his command? Why obey a man with a pick-axe through his head, and a door mat over his shoulder? What man is that yonder? Why does he carry such a device when there is no rat to use it on? Questions, questions. Infantile questions. Green red blue orange white brush paper surrealist "Silence" play theatre ballet opera operetta recital pianist Karajan violin Kim realist cubist pointilist. a string of thoughts. do not force me to do what you want me to do. let me guide myself through art, I do not need your help or your views. I will take care of my work, you take care of your own; school, what can be expected? To live and paint, nothing else. Such an experience. Hunger. Give up food for paint and canvas. The rewards are much more justifiable. I will search to find something new. Why? Don't ask me, I am only an artist. And I red the words Shantih in a poem and wondered their meaning, I made incomplete sentences, shame. Oh to vie for creativity, what one will sacrifice. But is it worth it? Or course it is. People say I do not make sense. I say, "so?". Is it a crime to be different? Rather, it should be a reward. Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart and his family. Vincent Van Gogh. Pablo Ruiz y Picasso (abbrieviated ver.) Toulouse-Lautrec All different. Where are they in our history books? At the top. The Celtic race; strong barbarous defiant naked. The only race to defeat the Romans. My descendants. Druidic Lore prevails, who where they? Pagan worshippers? White robed figures? Sacrificer's of the innocent in their groves? Mystery shrouds the heritage, could they really summon tempests, their furies believed so. Can we not perform such acts because of our own great disbelief in the unknown? Stonehenge. When I sign a work, should I not include every artist, every person, every piece of literature, every piece of media, that I have viewed at the bottom of the work? All have held an influence upon me, and therefore upon the work itself. How can I claim responsibility for a work, that was generated by the collective unconcious. And the words at then end said... And now for something completely different.
"Portrait of Carl Jung", 01.19.94 , Conte on Manila Paper, 18"x24", $175
Epilogue- "A Tribute"
Poets ~~~~~ Poets. How do they do it? I surely don't know, for I am not a poet. For I am a painter, whom merely dabbles in the ways of the literary arts; who uses this page, as an area to let off creative steam, to display my frustration, and to portray my views. Painting is my passion, yet it alone is not enough anymore. But the poets, those who are solely poets, how do they do it? To them the poetry is enough in itself! It subsides the creative urge, or so it would seem to appear. Perhaps it is because the words alone adequately portray their views; whereas for I, the message is dominated by visuals, and lost because of it. If only people would learn that there is much more to a painting than it would at first seem. If you just want a pretty picture, go to a poster shop, but do not come to me.
"God's Masterpiece #1", 10.01.94, Acrylic on Canvas, 25"x47", $425 (framed)
Come one, come all! Welcome to Newsgroup alt.centipede. Established just for writers, poets, artists, and anyone who is creative. A place for anyone to participate in, to share their poems, and learn from all. A place to share *your* dreams, and philosophies. Even a chance to be published in a magazine. The original Centipede Network was created on May 16, 1993. Created because there were no other networks dedicated to such an audience, and with the help of Klaus Gerken, Centipede soon started to grow, and become active on many world-wide Bulletin Board Systems. We consider Centipede to be a Public Network; however, its a specialized network, dealing with any type of creative thinking. Therefore, that makes us something quite exotic, since most nets are very general and have various topics, not of interest to a writer--which is where Centipede steps in! No more fuss. A writer can now access, without phasing out any more conferences, since the whole net pertains to the writer's interests. This means that Centipede has all the active topics that any creative user seeks. And if we don't, then one shall be created. Feel free to drop by and take a look at newsgroup alt.centipede
Ygdrasil is committed to making literature available, and uses the
Internet as the main distribution channel. On the Net you can find all
of Ygdrasil including the magazines and collections. You can find
Ygdrasil on the Internet at:
* WEB: http://www.synapse.net/~kgerken/
* FTP: ftp://ftp.synapse.net/~kgerken/
* USENET: releases announced in rec.arts.poems, alt.zines and
alt.centipede
* EMAIL: send email to kgerken@synapse.net and tell us what version
and method you'd like. We have two versions, an uncompressed
7-bit universal ASCII and an 8-bit MS-DOS lineart-enchanced
version. These can be sent plaintext, uuencoded, or as a
MIME-attachment.
. REMEMBERY: EPYLLION IN ANAMNESIS (1996), poems by Michael R. Collings . AFTER ALL, HE WAS AN ANGEL, a novel by Rita Stilli . DYNASTY (1968), Poems by Klaus J. Gerken . THE WIZARD EXPLODED SONGBOOK (1969), songs by KJ Gerken . STREETS (1971), Poems by Klaus J. Gerken . BLOODLETTING (1972) poems by Klaus J. Gerken . ACTS (1972) a novel by Klaus J. Gerken . RITES (1974), a novel by Klaus J. Gerken . FULL BLACK Q (1975), a poem by KJ Gerken . ONE NEW FLASH OF LIGHT (1976), a play by KJ Gerken . THE BLACKED-OUT MIRROR (1979), a poem by Klaus J. Gerken . JOURNEY (1981), a poem by Klaus J. Gerken . LADIES (1983), a poem by Klaus J. Gerken . FRAGMENTS OF A BRIEF ENCOUNTER (1984), poems by KJ Gerken . THE BREAKING OF DESIRE (1986), poems by KJ Gerken . FURTHER SONGS (1986), songs by KJ Gerken . POEMS OF DESTRUCTION (1988), poems by KJ Gerken . THE AFFLICTED (1991), a poem by KJ Gerken . DIAMOND DOGS (1992), poems by KJ Gerken . KILLING FIELD (1992), a poem by KJ Gerken . BARDO (1994-1995), a poem by Klaus J. Gerken . FURTHER EVIDENCES (1995-1996) Poems by Klaus J. Gerken . CALIBAN'S ESCAPE AND OTHER POEMS (1996), by Klaus J. Gerken . CALIBAN'S DREAM (1996-1997), a poem by Klaus J. Gerken . SHACKLED TO THE STONE, by Albrecht Haushofer - translated by JR Wesdorp . MZ-DMZ (1988), ramblings by Igal Koshevoy . DARK SIDE (1991), ramblings by Igal Koshevoy . STEEL REIGNS & STILL RAINS (1993), ramblings by Igal Koshevoy . BLATANT VANITY (1993), ramblings by Igal Koshevoy . ALIENATION OF AFFECTION (1993), ramblings by Igal Koshevoy . LIVING LIFE AT FACE VALUE (1993), ramblings by Igal Koshevoy . HATRED BLURRED (1993), ramblings by Igal Koshevoy . CHOKING ON THE ASHES OF A RUNAWAY (1993), ramblings by I. Koshevoy . BORROWED FEELINGS BUYING TIME (1993), ramblings by Igal Koshevoy . HARD ACT TO SWALLOW (1994), ramblings by Igal Koshevoy . HALL OF MIRRORS (1994), ramblings by Igal Koshevoy . ARTIFICIAL BUOYANCY (1994), ramblings by Igal Koshevoy . THE POETRY OF PEDRO SENA, poems by Pedro Sena . THE FILM REVIEWS, by Pedro Sena . THE SHORT STORIES, by Pedro Sena . INCANTATIONS, by Pedro Sena . POEMS (1970), poems by Franz Zorn All books are on disk and cost $5.00 each. Checks should be made out to the respective authors and orders will be forwarded by Ygdrasil Press. YGDRASIL MAGAZINE may also be ordered from the same address: $5.00 an issue to cover disk and mailing costs, also specify computer type (IBM or Mac), as well as disk size and density. Allow 2 weeks for delivery. Note that YGDRASIL MAGAZINE is free when downloaded from Ygdrasil's World-Wide Web site at http://www.synapse.net/~kgerken.
All poems copyrighted by their respective authors. Any reproduction of these poems, without the express written permission of the authors, is prohibited. YGDRASIL: A Journal of the Poetic Arts - Copyright (c) 1993, 1994, 1995, 1996 and 1997 by Klaus J. Gerken. The official version of this magazine is available on Ygdrasil's World-Wide Web site http://www.synapse.net/~kgerken. No other version shall be deemed "authorized" unless downloaded from there. Distribution is allowed and encouraged as long as the issue is unchanged. All checks should be made out to: YGDRASIL PRESS COMMENTS * Klaus Gerken, Chief Editor - for general messages and ASCII text submissions. Use Klaus' address for commentary on Ygdrasil and its contents: kgerken@synapse.net * Pedro Sena, Production Editor - for submissions of anything that's not plain ASCII text (ie. archives, GIFs, wordprocessored files, etc) in any standard DOS, Mac or Unix format, commentary on Ygdrasil's format, distribution, usability and access: art@accces.com We'd love to hear from you! Or mailed with a self addressed stamped envelope, to: