They are everywhere once they know you've noticed them.
You have seen them.
The electrical outlet that looks perpetually surprised.
The car whose headlights give it a very particular expression.
The two windows and doorway on a house that are clearly watching the neighborhood.
The knot in a tree that looks suspiciously like an old man.
The slice of toast that appears deeply concerned about something.
Two screws and a handle on a cabinet—
face.
Three holes in a bowling ball—
face.
A mop leaning against a bucket—
somehow also face.
And once your brain discovers this game, there is absolutely no going back.
There are no dues.
No meetings.
No secret handshake.
The moment you have pointed at an inanimate object and said:
“Look! It has a face!”
Congratulations.
You are in.
Your membership materials will not be arriving because we have no budget.
😂
Finding the face is only the beginning.
Now you have to determine what it is thinking.
A crooked old mailbox might look as though it has been waiting forty years for somebody to explain what happened to Tuesday.
A surprised electrical outlet appears to have just received astonishing news.
A knot in a fence post may look deeply unimpressed with your life choices.
A fire hydrant might be far too pleased with itself.
A backpack zipper can look like someone who knows a secret.
And there is almost certainly a building somewhere that looks exactly like it has just remembered it left the oven on.
Once you begin assigning personalities, ordinary errands become significantly more interesting.
Your next walk has a new purpose.
Find five accidental faces.
They may appear in:
tree bark,
clouds,
stones,
buildings,
cars,
food,
faucets,
furniture,
shadows,
tools,
sidewalk cracks,
or objects whose designers had absolutely no idea what they were creating.
Photograph them if you'd like.
But here's the important part:
Don't stage them.
The delight is in discovering that the face was already there.
Waiting.
Possibly for years.
For you to notice it.
Once you become experienced, additional responsibilities may develop.
You may find yourself saying things like:
“That house looks friendly.”
Other people may not immediately understand.
Show them the windows.
They will.
You may become unable to use a particular appliance without feeling that it is judging you.
This is normal.
You may develop affection for a completely ordinary object because its accidental expression makes you laugh.
Also normal.
You may photograph a potato.
Perfectly understandable.
This is optional.
But strongly encouraged.
A tree stump with two knots and a crooked split might clearly be:
Gerald.
Why Gerald?
Look at him.
That's Gerald.
😂
A grumpy-looking parking meter?
Bernice.
A delighted-looking teapot?
Stanley.
A shocked piece of toast?
Professor Crumbsworth.
Please understand that names arrive rather than being chosen.
We do not control the process.
This could become a wonderful little family collection.
Take photographs whenever someone discovers an accidental face.
Print them small.
Put them in an album.
Or create a digital folder.
No captions initially.
Then occasionally sit together and decide:
Who is this?
What are they thinking?
What happened five minutes before this photograph?
What do they do on weekends?
Does this particular drainpipe have hobbies?
Again—
important research.
There actually is a reason we see faces everywhere.
The human brain is remarkably good at detecting familiar patterns—especially faces—even where no actual face exists. The phenomenon is commonly called pareidolia.
Fascinating.
Thank you, science.
Now please explain why the knot in that tree is clearly disappointed in us.
😂
Two people can walk past the same wall every day.
One sees bricks.
The other suddenly sees a little face between the drainpipe and two bolts.
Nothing about the wall changed.
The difference was the person looking.
And—
oh dear.
We are approaching meaning again.
Everybody remain calm.
I can fix this.
Please locate the nearest electrical outlet.
Look at it.
😮
You're welcome.