Eric from Third Act is looking for Content Creators
Storytellers Wanted
Content creation opportunity
Content creation opportunity
I'm making a branded content series for an artistic lighting company exploring how objects in our lives hold meaning, and sometimes emotional memories over time. I'm looking to speak with people who have vivid memories of objects and furniture in their households that hold a special meaning to them. It could be a chair or a light, or something else.
Here is an example from a friend of mine:
When I was growing up, we had a brown leather chair in the corner of the living room. Every evening after dinner, my father would take the chair with a glass of whisky and read from whatever mystery book he had at the time. No matter what chaos we as kids were causing around him, he remained calm and focused on his stories. I remember so many holidays with him sitting in it, birthdays, and family gatherings, it's funny to think how much time he spent in that chocolate brown chair. As time passed, the chair, like him, became weathered and tired. He certainly could have replaced it with the latest recliner but there it was such a part of his evening ritual and character, I couldn't imagine him replacing it, and thankfully he didn't. When he ultimately passed, we kept the chair for a while, and it held the loose shape of him. My sister used it in her starter home, where her kids climb all over it, it's been graced with juice spills, Disney stickers and crayons, not too different from when I was a kid. I can picture him with the same coy smile, amidst the chaos, enjoying his glass of whisky and his mystery novel.
Here is an example from a friend of mine:
When I was growing up, we had a brown leather chair in the corner of the living room. Every evening after dinner, my father would take the chair with a glass of whisky and read from whatever mystery book he had at the time. No matter what chaos we as kids were causing around him, he remained calm and focused on his stories. I remember so many holidays with him sitting in it, birthdays, and family gatherings, it's funny to think how much time he spent in that chocolate brown chair. As time passed, the chair, like him, became weathered and tired. He certainly could have replaced it with the latest recliner but there it was such a part of his evening ritual and character, I couldn't imagine him replacing it, and thankfully he didn't. When he ultimately passed, we kept the chair for a while, and it held the loose shape of him. My sister used it in her starter home, where her kids climb all over it, it's been graced with juice spills, Disney stickers and crayons, not too different from when I was a kid. I can picture him with the same coy smile, amidst the chaos, enjoying his glass of whisky and his mystery novel.
What is Polywork?
Polywork is a social network where you share the unique intersection of what you do and who you are. Meet, discuss, and discover opportunities with your Community.
Use Eric's VIP link to skip the waitlist
My father was very particular about what he wore both in his clothing and shoes. He liked extremely simple but comfortable things to wear. Like simple one solid colored plane dress (which in our Urdu language we call it 'Shalwar Kameez'). And simple brown soft boats made of cloth. He never wanted to have many of them so always kept a minimal amount and shopped on just a few occasions in his lifetime. For his soft shoes, he had a shoe brush. It was made of wood, brown vintage form and did a very good job. In 13 years of my life that I spent with my father, some days I did not get to see him, as he had a schedule different from me and I was a school-going kid, but every single day I got to see that shoe brush. It was a signal that he was in the room, preparing himself to go to work. It always reminded me of the fact that I had him, I had my father until the time came when he was no longer around, and so did the brush disappear. He died of a brain tumor in 2012 and left us with his memories. Some sweet some painfully, gut-wrenching. I still picture him using his shoe brush as he used to get ready to go to his shop. He was a very fast walker, always very active and energetic. The disease took away all his energy and in his last few months, he wasn't able to walk. No one was using that shoe brush anymore. I remember looking at that shoe brush with so much helplessness that if my father would ever be able to walk again or not, put his feet in his shoes and once more use that shoe brush. But he never really got a chance. To date, that shoe brush is a bittersweet memory to me. If possible I would do anything to see my dad once more getting ready and putting the dust off of his shoe with his shoe brush. I miss him.