PostSecret

In the midst of all the confessions being made on the Internet in diaries and journals and blogs, there is a site called PostSecret that stands out as an exemplary model of reality masquerading as the real. PostSecret has its own retinue of followers, myself included, who (try to) believe that what the site offers is glimpses of the real.

The creator of PostSecret calls it "an ongoing community art project." People mail in homemade postcards containing their secrets, which the creator then posts on the site every Sunday. The initial explanation of the process makes the secrets seem as though they come directly to the viewer from the writer--an expression of the inexpressible made possible by the means of anonymity.

However, the site itself shatters this illusion. PostSecret has become a business and the anonymous secrets have become commodities, sold as books in stores in exchange for cold, hard cash and/or plastic. In fact, the site is accompanied with a Legal Notice, whereby contributors of secrets are informed that their act of submission grants PostSecret "a perpetual, royalty-free license to use, reproduce, modify, publish, distribute, and otherwise exercise all copyright and publicity rights with respect to that information at its sole discretion..."

Ironically, these glimpses of the real--for that's what we perceive them to be, or else why would we visit the site?--are clearly defined and sometimes specifically solicited. A secret can be "a regret, hope, funny experience, unseen kindness, fantasy, belief, fear, betrayal, erotic desire, feeling, confession, or childhood humiliation." In addition, secrets are selected, edited, and arranged by the creator as he wishes.

What remains then, of these pieces of paper with text and images, that can be a glimpse of the real? If the physical expressions of secrets are not the real that we search for but are merely the object of our desire that we think will fill the void, then why continue visiting? Once in a while, I react with incredulity to a secret--jolting myself out of the imaginary. The illusion is temporarily shattered, but PostSecret uniquely holds my interest even after the periodic falling-apart of the imaginary. Perhaps it is the changing nature of the site, with its many contributors, that allows the possibility of the real appearing to remain tantalizing. I suspect the postcards themselves--the physical secrets--will never give me a glimpse of the real. But I think it is possible to experience that split second of recognition and horror and fascination when you read a secret, know the secret as you read it, and consider for a moment that it may be yours or belong to someone you know. It is that intrusion of the real into reality that we hope for and fear that keeps me returning to the site.


-----Email Message-----
Sent: Sunday, February 04, 2007 4:46 AM
Subject: re: plane crash postcard

I feel the same way when I fly, and I fly very frequently. I'm sorry, too. I hope we're never on the same flight together.