Frank has done a nice job of creating a fad amongst Postsecret participants. In conjunction with the release of the new book, A Lifetime of Secrets, he has told several stories about people leaving their secrets in books at the store or finding secrets in the books they buy. I have been very taken with the idea and have been meaning to buy a copy because I am somewhat smitten with the humanity involved in reading the secrets of others.
For those of you not yet in the know, Postsecret was created by Frank as an art project in which people send postcards of their own design, telling a secret that they can't tell anyone else. Every week he posts about 20 of them. This is my favorite from this last week.Check out a new set every Sunday at www.postsecret.blogspot.com
Although I have toyed with creating postcards for a couple of my secrets, yesterday I felt the internal need to create one for an entirely new secret that I didn't even know I had. My execution was fairly artless and definitely phrased in a chunky clunky way. I think my utter lack of an attempt to make it attractive for publication and it's urgency are definitely correlated. I considered sending it in to Frank but instead realized that I had an hour to get to the bookstore before church started in addition to having a gift certificate that my co-workers had given me when I left my job to start grad school.
So, I checked all the books that were in the store for hidden secrets and was disappointed to find none. However, I placed mine in one of the books and took another downstairs to buy it. I am intrigued by the nervous feeling that I had leaving my secret behind for a stranger to find. It really is a secret. I'm embarrassed by it so I don't tell people. And I had the physical feeling of nervous adrenaline pouring into my chest as I left the store.
I wish I could tell you that it is liberating. I wish I could tell you that I've done something so that I'm no longer ashamed of myself, especially because the shame is only just minor enough to keep it a secret. It's only slightly worse than when I used to tell people that I had donated the long hair I cut off when really I had dropped the ponytail while holding it up for the self-timer on the camera, this rendering the donation tangled and unusable.
But I can't. The secret still sits in my chest. I'm glad I put it out there and I'm interested to look at my own reaction to doing so. But that's all it is right now. I'll keep you updated if there's any change, though.
All my Favourite People are Broken - "I hate you. And I'm embarrassed you're my mom." "I feel you, bud." "We still have to wash your hair." **** His insults are genuine and heartfelt. And I tw...