Welcome back to the Eureka Project. Which is one year old… today, I think? I’m not going to bore you or horrify myself by quoting Eureka 1, but suffice it to say that it was set up with a professional intent. I was striking out as a freelancer and brand story consultant and writer, and I wanted something to act as the centre of the venn. And what a lovely thing, to build a little audience of friends.
Over time, the focus has drifted - or, relaxed? That probably means that it no longer carries the consistent utility value that might attract a lot of people. But it does allow enough space for this thing to become something that might surprise you - and will hopefully surprise me.
(This also owes a debt to Robin Sloan, who seems to fully embrace everything that tweaks his interest, and then uses his wonderful newsletters to bring us along for the ride.)
If you’ve been forwarded this, and you want to be part of a very gentle ongoing experiment, please consider subscribing.
Now, let’s drift into our second year.
Our Things And Us - The Results
Last edition, we played a little game. I asked you to send me a picture of something in your home that reminds you of who you are, in a positive way. It’s actually quite a personal ask, but I got more responses than I hoped for, some public, some private. Thank you! It’s scary to ask people for things, as you know.
I spotted a few patterns:
Gifts
Many people sent me things their people had sent them, with warm words besides:
This is a mug my girlfriend made. It reminds me that I am the kind of person for whom people make things, which is an important part of how I see myself. An affirmation if you will.
16th birthday present. I’d expected something basic from Argos, instead it was this beauty - my dad must have sold some paintings that month! So much time has been spent here, both on fun creative endeavours & less fun school work & life admin.
This huge peg which belonged to my grandfather. Ostensibly purposeful and practical, but also completely ridiculous.
Beautiful objects in their own right, no? You all have taste, or know people who do. But of course the real beauty is having, in your home, a piece of a person who cares about you. Especially when we cannot see them - or after they are gone.
I inherited this from my parents - it’s literally worthless, probably some holiday tat but I saw it pretty much every day of my life (as I saw them) and now they’re gone, I find the familiarity of it comforting.
A lesson, then, to share yourself with those around you. They won’t forget.
Tools
Quite a few implements of creation: the bureau above, of course, but I also saw a piano:
I think it’s this general setup. Piano I’ve had since I was 13, various 1970s bands sheet music sprawled on the floor, a cosy rug, anarchic candle, a full(ish) vase and an empty vase. Creativity, unfulfilled potential, homeliness.
This pot:
My grandma gave me this. It's a bit rusty (her fault) and usually a bit dirty (my fault) but I bloody love it.
And this desk:
My messy desk shows me I will never stop learning, trying things and being enriched by them. And that's something I like about myself.
There’s our things, and there’s what we make with them, and of them.
Joys
I was going to call this category ‘non-Tools’ or ‘functionless things’, but this is Eureka and my job is to find the word. A joy is my placeholder word for something that exists not to do something as such, but purely to make you feel something.
There is an old Japanese legend that says that if you fold 1000 tsurus you fulfil a desire. Maybe my desire is to stop needing to fold them.
I had a dream of a raven coming into my life and when I was working in Ireland I found this in a gallery made of 3000 year old bog oak and it spoke time of my dream. The plaque above it says ‘he who looks outside dreams - he who looks inside awakens’ - Carl Jung
Interestingly, these seemed to come mostly from slightly older members of the Eureka community. Perhaps as you get older, you grow more attuned to those items in the world that might mean something to you? Perhaps you get more comfortable with owning certain things just because? I like this idea.
Presences
From looking at the context of people’s photos, something that jumped out was just how many things (gifts, tools and joys) felt so installed in their settings. They’d been there a long time, under many a glance. A few responses were from people who didn’t just send me something they liked - they actively reappraised something they’d got used to.
This feels important. Even when we don’t consciously see things, our eyes still take them in and they still hit the brain’s filter. I wonder what they do there? A submission from my mum, the big, bowing bookshelves in our living room:
As of Sunday night, the Government in England has changed its message from stay home to stay alert. I would ask you to stay awake, awake to your environment, your role as a custodian of it. This was my item:
I got it for Christmas, in order to time 50 minute writing stints, what I saw as a depthy session. But I have found myself using the 10 min setting more and more - as my good friend Thom Wong says, enough is enough.
So my next little game for you is: give yourself ten minutes of staying awake to what you truly see and hear around you. Look out the window, or around the room, listen to the birds and dogs and conversations. Capture it if you want, send me the merest sliver of an impression by replying to this email. Or don’t, simply consider it.
Here’s a ten-minute piece of music I love.
Enjoy yourself and your world. I’ll be back before long, with something else.
And one last time, thank you from my heart to all who submitted. You give me faith.
~James
That was the Eureka Project, 20th Edition.
Here are some other things you can do now.
Do you want a postcard? I still have a couple. If you’d like a note, let me know where to send it.
Do you know anyone with strategy, copywriting, content, writing, fiction or game writing needs? I’d love to hear from them/you. Reply here, or tweet me @jamescmitchell.
Do you know anyone who’d like to read this? Please forward it to them; I’d appreciate it.
Did that just happen to you? Well: