I am delighted to announce that I have finally listed items on Etsy at my shop: Signifying Nothing.
Many years ago my dear friend and I collected some handcrafted items and some trading cards (mostly of the Star Trek variety) and set about to sell them at craft bazaars across the countryside. I'm not sure that we ever managed to sell any product. Of course our product may not have been well matched to our audience. I had in all of my youthful creativity made jewelry with bizarre themes, most of which I've forgotten, although I am told the one piece that sold was a hair clip resembling flies on shit, and that my partner's mother bought it (bless her). The fun of it was actually all in the time spent with my friend. We would spend hours talking and and laughing, and I would set up a canvas and work on oil paintings in the the downtime, and there was nothing but downtime.
One bazaar had music piped throughout it. Well, music, after a fashion. It would be more apt to say that it had the song "Achey Breakey Heart" piped through it. The song repeated a maddening number of times, until we were downright giddy at the absurdity of it.
The name of that shop had also been Signifying Nothing, a name we agreed upon because we were properly dramatic teens and appreciated Shakespeare's Hamlet and all of his dark brooding. I was also a huge fan of Steve Martin and had watched LA Story many times, and anyone who has seen this film knows that he repeatedly references Shakespeare, claiming that he was originally from LA.
"Sitting there at that moment I thought of something else Shakespeare said. He said, 'Hey... life is pretty stupid; with lots of hubbub to keep you busy, but really not amounting to much.' Of course I'm paraphrasing: 'Life is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.'"
At seventeen or eighteen I felt that pretty much summed it up, and I guess I still feel that way, just the like would still find true happiness sitting at a flea market craft bazaar listening to "Achey Breakey Heart" and laughing with my friend.
I remember that summer, and, as I recall, your work just blew my mind. My convincement of your unrivaled coolness was reaffirmed that summer when I surveyed your inventory.
ReplyDeleteThe bazaar circuit just wasn't ready for us. We should have tried the bizarre circuit. We might have had more luck...hmm sound like another shop name in the making.
ReplyDeleteWe were misunderstood, but at least the sports and Deep Space Nine cards that I sold on the side paid for many a "movie and Perkins" night on the town. And my mom still raves about that "fly on shit" hair barrett that she bought from you.
ReplyDelete