A couple days ago, our English copy editor, Kim, asked a question about “And Then.” A poem by Lang Leav, it addresses the magical mechanism that fuels the conjunction. She calls it “a prelude to something wonderful…That swift, surprising transition from nothing to everything.”
I feel the same way about a word that’s been lurking on my mind—limited edition. Stamp anything with that and the whole thing becomes a lot more enticing. It lures with three ribbons instead of two, or better yet, a shiny plaque that proudly reads, “the whatever color edition.” The extra garnish may not add to the function of the object, but it looks different, maybe even better. Leaping to further conclusions, the idea of it surpasses the original, and the thought of being the one to own it—makes the object go from “nothing to everything.”
We are calling the first batch of felt “limited edition,” because we don’t know if this will be the beginning or the last. felt took off as an effort to achieve a tangible archive for ourselves, rather than a product. Either way, we still feel obliged to fulfill the giddy expectations attached to the words. As the poet’s heart raced at the promise of “and then,” the first 100 copies of felt will be special—but our approach isn’t to play dress up. Our gift to you is another version of felt. An object to hold, one that fits in the hand. As announced, every limited edition copy will include a hand-felted rock.
Here's a picture of one I worked on today.