interface 015: THE GARDENING MAGAZINE
The cover boasts an in-depth article on using your hoe and other tools to establish charming bushes such as
Rubus cockburnianus, a flowering white-stemmed bramble in the
Rosaceae family. There appears to be two packets of seeds included with the magazine;
corn-cockle and
sneezeweeds.
You need to choose something to cut out, for your current collage project.
You love corncockles!
A small paper packet, faded and slightly crushed.
Once mistaken for grain, often deliberately.
Produces deceptively delicate purple flowers that grow upright, as if reaching.
The seeds are poisonous, but historically useful.
THE PANOPTICON:
Not everything that feeds you is meant to be eaten.
You love sneezeweeds!
A small paper packet with half the name torn away by tape,
once used to secure it to the front of a magazine.
Will grow into bright orange-yellow flowers.
Named for its use by Native American and First Nations peoples to create a snuff powder that induced violent sneezing.
THE MYSTERY MAN:
Something in you wants out.
Handful of obscenities.
A loose handful of distasteful magazine clippings.
Cock. Anus. Hoe. Tool. Bush. Etc.
Detached from bodies, context, and intention.
Left behind after the joke stopped being funny.
Language stripped to provoke a reaction.
THE BIT:
It still works. Guaranteed knee-slapper.
Simple words.
A loose handful of words that don’t do anything on their own.
We. You. They. And. But. If.
They argue when you shake them.
They might mean nothing.
They may decide everything.
THE ECHO:
We and you but they if we or you and but if they.
Cut flowers.
Flowers clipped from their habitats.
Cut in their prime, trying their best.
Shown mid-bloom. No soil. No weather. No loss.
Optimism archived.
Rearrange by hand.
THE WITNESS:
A small faith in care, repetition, and learning by looking.
Interface with another magazine.
You rummage through, picking out based on brief blurring flashes of colour, the Sensationalist News or the Magazine for Nerds.
THE CARTOGRAPHER:
Don’t forget to check where you arrive, or just return home, be conscious of leaps through temporal experience.