Send me an object that doesn't matter very much to you, and I'll inscribe it to make it more absorbent of meaning and then return it to you. I'll also make a GIF of the object, post-inscription, which will go in the filmstrip to the right. I plan to do this for twenty objects.
If you want me to do this to an object of yours, email me proof of at least a $10 donation to the Southern Poverty Law Center or the National Police Accountability Project. (Please redact any credit card info or other sensitive info. I won't quibble over what constitutes proof. I'd love to keep the logistics as simple as possible.)
This is a poetry endeavor, so the turn in your object's fortune will take a verbal form. I had imagined acres of sunflowers turning in unison along with the wandering sun, in order to maximize absorption (...?), and then I thought, no, they must be maximizing the reflection of UV light off of their petals, to attract pollinators. Then I did some internet research and found that after reaching maturity, sunflower heads don't turn at all.