It started with this act of wonder that Himself made for me on our return from Idaho this summer.
|The man is a wizard with a woodburner. I would have set it on fire,which is why I am not allowed to play with his toys.|
I figured filling the box would be a good Snow Day project and so I just left it alone. But, in truth, it intimidated me. That's because I wanted it to be more than just a shoebox where memories are stored...or a scrapbook where they are arranged creatively. I wanted the experience of opening this box to transmit the spirit of adventure, the urge to discover, that pushes the two of us to see and touch What Was.
I had no idea of how to do that. I had no idea of how to even think about how to do that. My usual approach to creating pretty much mirrors Clutch's approach to eating food morsels on the floor: go to it with gusto and decide afterwards whether it was the right strategy. But the difference between the dog and me is that when it doesn't work, he just throws up. Me? I suffer knots of frustration in my gut and usually just abandon ship in defeat. And THEN I throw up.
This time, Himself stepped in and suggested I prepare...prepare myself. He pointed me to a book:
Its an incredibly photographed look at curio collecting from all possible facets. It even had photographs of a thespian ancestor of Saskia's Old Bird King, dressed for his role as Tinkerbell in a Viking production of Peter Pan:
Second, I needed to imbue the Collection itself with a sense of discovery in how you get to see or touch it. I still wasn't sure how this would happen but somehow, I just believed that it would. From Saturday afternoon through Saturday evening, I sorted every object...touching, grouping, getting to know.
And then I reached for all the old boxes,the cloth scraps, the handmade paper, the strings--everything I could get my hands on that I had collected for years and years without ever knowing why.
|You never know when you'll need a troll doll, apparently.|
First, you open the lid and slide the tray...
And here's what you will find.
Each bears a decorated label, archiving its former home. And,for the most part, you need to do something to access what lies within.
|This holds bits of hardware and glass in bag made from one of the first cloths I made for What If Diaries|
|Holds bits of rocks taken from bottom of hot springs, with rolled up map of how to get there.|
|Cloth from site sewed into a wrapping...|
|...that houses a jar found at Deadhorse Bay, which houses glass shards from Idaho. Screw still moves up and down!|
|I am master of the hot glue gun but Himself still won't let me use the woodburner.|