“So I’m telling this boy, one of the boys that lots of these love letters are to, about this project. ‘I’m writing three hundred love letters and sending them to strangers. The letters are going to be glued to the outside of the envelopes, so that the mailman, and presumably whoever the recipient lives with, will be able to see and read them. The letters aren’t to the strangers, they’re to people I know.’ The boy looks at me. We’re walking around, after work, deserted streets. He says, ‘I don’t understand. Why are you doing this?’, and I answer vaguely, talking about crossing space and the kind of intimacy that I believe is lacking from our society. And I’m left thinking: Is this project complicated or simple, idiotic or interesting?”
corvusfugit.com 