In Pursuit of the Ping: Why I Make Collage

The Power of Storytelling (and Rubber Duckies)

I recently listened to a podcast about storytelling, and one project really stuck with me.

In 2009, two writers launched Significant Objects. They bought cheap, second-hand items - Pez dispensers, salt shakers, rubber duckies - and asked writers to invent fictional backstories for each one. Then they sold the objects on eBay with these imagined histories.

The results were incredible. Items purchased for $128 ended up selling for over $3,600. Same objects, same materials. But with a story, they had value, context, and meaning.

Collage is the Same Idea

That experiment stayed with me because it’s exactly what collage does. When I make collage, I start by gathering. Books, magazines, old encyclopedias, forgotten postcards. They pile up on my desk in chaos. Mostly, they just sit there. Until something clicks.

Maybe a flamingo’s leg lines up with a donkey’s. Maybe two flies are fighting beside a vintage photo of a couple kissing.

Then I give it a title, ‘The Last Kiss’, and suddenly the fragments feel like they belong together. A story forms, one I never could have planned.

The Joy of the Unpredictable Process

Collage is unpredictable. Illogical. Entirely unplanned.

Even the hunt for images has its own rhythm. In a new city, I search for second-hand bookstores tucked in strange corners. I go where I normally wouldn’t. Always chasing the chance of a surprising image, a spark of connection.

It takes faith. You show up. You sift. You trust that something will click. That one image will meet another perfectly. And a new narrative will reveal itself.

That’s the Ping

This is the magic. The ping. The thrill of finding meaning where none existed. The hope that forgotten pieces can come together to create something that resonates. And the reminder that, like those objects on eBay, the stories we give or discover can still move people.