Have you read Found magazine? A Chronicle co-worker brought one in last week and I glimpsed it briefly, but forgot about it until reading this post at Amy Phillips’ site. I look forward to reading the print edition sometime, since this is the kind of stuff that you want to be as close to as possible — to become intimate with that little bit of another’s existence that’s been lost or purposefully left behind.

If you’re not familiar with the concept, Found consists entirely of found objects: “Love letters, birthday cards, kids’ homework, to-do lists, ticket stubs, poetry on napkins, telephone bills, doodles — anything that gives a glimpse into someone else’s life. Anything goes,” according to the site.

I especially love the notes. The pictures tell too much. It’s said a picture tells a thousand words, and it’s true. Most often, they are posed and meant to be seen by family members or others who weren’t at place or event being captured. But these found notes … they are little enigmas. They are notes to self or to close others. They force you to wonder, to dig deep inside and imagine in a wonderfully feverish way what course the person’s life took before and after. And often, to wonder what that moment represented by the note itself meant? Where was it in the continuum of that person’s universe?

Found is a great site and — from what I saw — a gorgeous magazine. Each find writes a story for you. It’s like reading a collection of short stories inside your head. Go. Now.

The mag reminds me of one of my pastimes — looking through other people’s bookshelves, photo albums, etc. when they’re not around to tell me what everything “means.” It’s like a jigsaw puzzle of that other person’s life, and in a way probably makes a lot more sense than the picture they’d present to you on
their own. The older the stuff, the better. Look at the handwriting. Run your fingers over the pages. Blow the dust off the cover. Find a little bit of what matters.