(I thought about posting a picture here, but I didn’t want to give my computer any ideas visually. I’m feeling more balanced (?) but a bit irreverent today! Can you tell?)
I was intrigued by a post from Imprint, What We Talk About When We Talk To Objects, talking about an art exhibition that shows how close we are to our inanimate friends. It’s sounds like a pretty clever exhibit, since MOMA’s senior curator of architecture and design will allow the viewers to interface with the art through each piece of art’s own twitter account. How’s that for finding out what your art is thinking when you look at it? Never thought about it before, have you? Yes, we writers often go off on flights of fantasy like this.
I’ll admit that I’ve had some very explicit and draining conversations with my computer. Fortunately, it doesn’t happen very often (knocking on wood). These conversations only seem to happen when things have reached critical mass at a moment in time when my universe is ready to implode. That this time frame always precedes a major project’s due date, or when I’ve become attached to a specific piece of work (yes, I do save incessantly – learned that lesson years ago), is probably no coincidence. This is the moment when my computer shows her hidden personality. I’m not sure that my computer is female, but she feels like she is. She definitely resembles me on both my good and bad days, so I tend to think of her as an extension of myself. Yes, the bad days are not pretty. I think that it’s her way of getting revenge because I work her to death on a daily basis. It’s the creator in me that just doesn’t stop, so I don’t why she’s complaining when I’m the one coming up with it all. I guess that I’ll have to be more supportive of our relationship.
What kind of conversations do you have with your favorite inanimate object? Your plant? Your computer? Your car? Your favorite stuffed animal? Would you even admit it out loud? Don’t worry because you’re not alone. We all do this because it’s a human need to apply our own qualities to things around us. It’s our way of feeling connected with the world. So, next time you find yourself venting at a beloved belonging, just remember that you’re not alone. And then thank whatever you’re talking to (or yelling at, or pleading with) for putting up with you. It can’t be easy! My husband even tells me so. ; )
So, my sweet electronic wonder who is my computer, this is for you to remember during those trying times to come:
