Sometimes we love our things so much that we imagine they are real and that they even yearn for life!
We part ways with even our most loved belongings, hoping they will continue to be appreciated and cared for.
As a Stuff Hero I seek out these objects and endeavor to grant them continued life by finding them new homes.
Become a hero: Volunteer to adopt an object, I send it to you, you email me a photo of it in your care.
This blog documents my project. Contact me to participate!
I have sad news. Please bare with me.... I usually talk too much, providing long and overly detailed recounts. In this case I even feel obligated, so forgive my rambling...
Tuesday was beyond busy. It was a day scheduled full of patients made angry by a previous, inept clinition, leaving me with apologies, and (skilled) damage control. Ugh.
Your package was hand-delivered to my desk. It immediately improved my mood! I opened the box upon arrival, eager to meet my super cool, new-to-me bottle nestled inside! I even found time between cranky patients to make it sparkle. I then took pictures of my shiny bottle tucked back into its original travel nest.
The parking lot was dark before I finally left the clinic. I was hurried to retrieve my kiddos from daycare. Still, I would not have literally run to my car, if not for a downpour of obnoxiously frigid rain. But I did run and, of course, I slipped. I fell.
I wish I'd left the box unopened. The top was no longer secured with tape. I saw my bottle bounce out in front of me (two times in slow motion, to be exact) before hitting the pavement just wrong. It shattered.
Already pissed off, soaked and now suddenly very sad, I located the nearest curb. I sat down and cried.
I am so sorry that I cannot send photos of my musical bottle on a sunny window sill as promised. I'm afraid I am now the OPPOSITE of a 'stuff hero,' hoping to save an object but destroying it instead!
I mentioned my mother to you... how she prompted my craving for unusual bottles and pretty glass. After raising five children, she long ago relinquished sentimentality toward most breakable things. Still, she understood my experience, first suggesting.... a funeral! Funny, since your project description mentions our perception of life in treasured, inanimate objects.
Ultimately, we decided the glass pieces might best retire in one of her mosaic stepping stones. She and I both create new paths with them each spring.
I'd guess that more than sums it up.... Let me know if not. Thank you for the chance to participate. Sorry I fucked it up.