Dear Bleaders,
Another Wednesday skulked away and snuck off with your due post, due West, thataway twards thursday. One way I manage my modern life is by quitting word stitching at 6pm whether i long to keep working or not. So folks, we have 45 min for me to get you all the secret stash of rash hash I've been saving you for seven days, gone eight. Where to start? Overall: I am still crazy, but I continue to believe progress is being made.
Of late? Well this just happened and has completely captured my attention, "this" being my story on the Significant Objects project. New Yorker on SO, and Boston Globe on SO and New York Times on SO.
The project is: Writers are shown a photo of cheap item picked up at a thrift store and the writers, each with his or her own item, put it into a short piece of fiction, thereby investing it with value.
Then the object is put on ebay with the story, with clear indication about the project. It creates value (on the object) and makes the story a physical sellable. They are in their second or third week, so You can also read some of the other stories and see how the sale of them went. Fun right?
The part that just happened is that my object/story went upon today. See my story and object at the Significant Objects site. The site also has lots more press reports.
At the SO site you can click under the pic to get to my item's ebay page, or go from the link I placed in the clause just prior to this one, in the current sentence, just above these very words (i am being silly, though, or perhaps because, the 6pm deadline has passed).
Cool right? Rob Walker and Josh Glenn both do such interesting things. If you read Glenn's Taking Things Seriously book and read my entry you may blush, indeed, if you think of me primarily as an historian, don't even. Oh what the hell. (in case this doesn't work you can search hecht or horse on the book's amazon look inside feature, click one page to see the horse.)
Okay, now I'm blushing, but as I say, what the hell. Now listen, about the auction, I would never want to squeeze my bleaders for more than a hit of their wine but, bleaders, I'd like it if this little item outsold precedent and future challenge. You know, for fun. Full discloser, I get the money. Maybe I should donate it so I can urge your shekels more recklessly, but I can't do that as I have no money and none of my socks match. Right now I am wearing my five year old's socks. It's a mannerism unbecoming. Btw I just lied. I am wearing sandals. I should shut the window, it is getting cold in here. Cold! In late July.
Oh their god, I'm out of time. It is 5:55 and I'm feeling pumpkiny. Well, I won't get to tell you about my gardening tips: Secret to big eggplant? 1. water plant frequently, 2. talk dirty to it, 3. photograph from below.
Or my love advice: Married people go have sex right now. Yes, with each other. Go. Now. I mean you. I am burdened by the knowledge of your abstinence.
Or my financial suggestions: Be a poet, scream at the rain.
Okay, time to make supper. Oh but also this little mention of my Happiness Myth in the Christian Science Monitor yesterday, and this lovely shout out about my doubt work from Paul Fidalgo at the Examiner.
Thanks for reading bleady, I remain your adoring servant, LO, I dress myself in your comment, like a Romeo.
xox
Jennifer
