Postcard Confessional
March 3, 2006 — -- They came in by the thousands, and then tens of thousands: secrets describing shame, deception, romance, regret and childhood traumas, to name a few types. They were mailed on postcards to Frank Warren in a Maryland suburb.
"I get 100 to 200 every day," said Warren, a soft-spoken 41-year-old with a closely shaved, salt-and-pepper beard. "I've received over 25,000 postcards in about 14 months."
Warren solicited the postcards as part of a community arts project he started less than 18 months ago. He approached people in public places, handed them postcards pre-addressed to his project, and asked them to send him their secrets anonymously. The response was modest at first, but picked up speed when the concept spread by word of mouth and the Internet. When the exhibit was finally mounted, it was rated by a critic for The Washington Post as one of the five best art exhibits of 2005.
Some of the postcards are lavishly illustrated. Warren has published more than 300 of them in a book, called "PostSecret."
"I think when you look at each postcard, it can almost act like a 6-inch-by-4-inch window into somebody's soul," he said. "They're allowing you to peek in and share something from their own life that they haven't been comfortable sharing with their closest friends and family."
One writer said, "I wish my parents could see me for what I am instead of what I didn't become." Another wrote, "I wish my father had forgiven me while he was still alive."
Many secrets have to do with self-image: "Sometimes I wish that I was blind just so I wouldn't have to look at myself every day in the mirror."
Loneliness is also a recurrent theme. "I know that sending in a stupid postcard to share a secret with a bunch of strangers won't do a damn thing to change the daily loneliness and unhappiness in my life. And I sent this anyway."
Warren keeps the postcards in a secure location.
"I have one secret in particular that I think of," he said. "The picture [on the postcard] was of a bedroom mirror with a frame around it, and a few personal items tucked in the corner. And the person had written, 'I steal small things from my friends to keep memories of how much I love them.' And for me, every time I read that, I react to it differently. Sometimes I think it's funny. Sometimes I think it's tragic, but it always sounds like somebody who's trying to work through the process of understanding something about themselves a little bit better. And it always sounds like poetry to me."
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