2002-12-13 - 4:01 p.m.: seawater

you know how sometimes there will be a jar full of coins on a shelf with a sign that reads, "if you can guess what's in me, i'm yours"...?

i think that's how we work.

with humble advertisements that play upon imagination, we dare people to estimate our value based on the shiny surface faces that peer out from inside us. we challenge them to imagine what these heads and tails add up to, en masse.

we con each other, and reward the smart ones.

but i think that's not so unnatural.

i realized, at the bookstore last night, that i am a market. i am the reason they started making paperbacks feel like rice paper, the reason earth tones and oranges are making a comeback, the reason books are being judged by their covers. me and everyone else who loves to flip through new pages fast enough to cause the air to move in a way that smells like paper and ink and adventure and is perfect for inhaling with the eyes closed and the face tilted up. an entirely different kind of spring breeze.

yes. they know all about us, and they're buying us.

it makes me angry to think that there are people out there whose job it is to find out what things people love in passing... bundle those things... hoard them in bags and on shelves... then put price tags on them and watch people pay to smile...

it's like killing off the animals then building zoos.

it's like america.

but... i started this off in a good mood... and i'm going to finish it that way. THERE ARE STILL PLENTY OF WAYS TO SMILE THAT COST YOU NOTHING. ONE WAY TO FIND THEM IS TO OPEN YOUR EYES ALL THE WAY. (another way to find them is to close your eyes all the way.)

so... go out and guess what's inside of someone today. you might be wrong. on the other hand, you might walk away with a treasure.

inward...outward