Bogs in the Genome is the name adorning my recent entrepreneurial escapade: handmade organisms birthed from the bogs—upcycled ties and accessories, typewriter reveries, Frutiger pseudogenes, and more. To present these creations, my imagination resuscitates a fantasy world, where commerce becomes myth, and each object hums with its own messy, Kafka world.

After all, your genome is composed of 98% bogs—noncoding DNA—that may contain the entirety of creation. Some of their penumbral secrets whisper mutation, regulation, transposition, and mysterium tremendum et fascinans.