I always wanted to work with my hands. Maybe that’s why I buy so many art supplies. I have a Pentel paint set I once bought in the Tokyo airport. The paints are like pastel sticks that you use to draw on paper. Also in the set are brushes on the ends of plastic tubes. You put water into the tubes, the water flows to the brushes, you use the brushes to smear the stick paint you’ve drawn onto the paper. It’s watercoloring for people who have a hard time letting go.
I’m sitting in my writing room looking at a big plastic tub, the kind you get to store stuff. In it I see a small peanut butter jar, Skippy, the kind with the red cap. The jar is filled with buttons. Buttons. Now, many years since the buttons collection was started, I can’t recollect what I planned to use them for.
For a short while, in the late 1980s, I worked for a silkscreener who let me use her sewing machine any time I wanted. I once sewed a pink penis head, stuffed it with batting and drew a face on it. I stuck a branch from a tree into the bottom, so the head looked like a puppet on a stick. The branch had a smaller branch emanating from it, like an erect penis. I made a tag for the puppet; it said “My doll, Dick.”
Jim’s dad picked up the puppet one day when he came to visit us. It had been lying on my work table, and it was the kind of slow motion event that you can’t stop from happening. Me on one side of the room, suddenly notice Jim’s dad, his hand going for My Doll, Dick. Me rushing to him, realizing as I approach that once I get there I’ll only be more conspicuous, less able to pretend I know nothing about the doll. Jim’s dad reads the tag, looks at me looking at him, puts the doll down and thankfully says nothing.
The buttons in my Skippy peanut butter jar are, I think, from that era. Dolls made of fabric and found materials. I might have had a plan for the buttons, but if so, it’s since gone the way of My Doll, Dick. An interesting idea at the time but nothing lasting.
Also in the plastic tub are styrofoam forms, balls and triangles, a cube. Those from the time I wanted to make paper mache but never did. I have other things in there, too, things I can’t see but recall picking up from hobby shops. Shadow boxes and sandpaper, picture hanging hooks, photo corners, and blank notecards.
My tools of the trade have come down to a few pens and notebooks, and I’m relieved to no longer have those other materials weighing on me. All the things I wanted someday to use, except I was always better at fantasizing than I was producing.
I’m using a red fine-point Sharpie now, but this morning I had a purple Uniball gel pen. Over on my work table is a Pentel metal tip, .7 mm ball. All of the pens roll fast.
I remember the moment I became fascinated with tools. I was in the garage at home and came across a yellow plastic case. Inside were drill bits of all sizes, tiny ones and long ones. They were perfectly laid out, each snapped into place. I fell in love with that case, not even knowing what it was used for, only that something about it made me feel like the world was ordered and safe.
I wanted to keep it, have it be mine, and later that evening when I asked my dad if I could have it, he told me No, that it was his for his new power drill. I asked, then, if I could play with it, and again he said No.
The next day I got a big block of wood that he kept to place behind the back tire of the car any time he worked on it. I took the drill bit case and set it beside me, pretended it was a super-powerful set of tools, needed only when my regular tools didn’t work. The “regular tools” were nails of all sizes that Dad kept in an old coffee can. One by one I took them out and nailed them into the wood block, opening and inspecting periodically the drill bits, taking one out for measurement purposes, but never putting a hammer to them the way I did with the nails.
I got into trouble that night when Dad got home. Got in trouble for messing up his wood block, for wasting good nails, and for playing with his drill bits even though I was told not to.
-related to Topic post, WRITING TOPIC – TOOLS OF THE TRADE
I, too, have a collection of buttons and I, too, no longer remember what the project was going to be. When my brothers and I were cleaning out our old homeplace after the death of my father, my younger brother, no sentimentalist that one, threw away an entire drawer full of buttons representing two generations. Why? He saw no sense in holding onto junk. I cried when I found out what he had done. The military made him that way, showed him how to be in life with only what you absolutely needed and no room for anything else. That mindset now extends to family and friends. The Army seems to have given him permission to treat even his family as boot camp privates who need shaping up, no mess allowed.
As I write this, I am looking over at my “craft box” that contains found stuff that is collecting dust, keeps getting shoved around the room and after reading this post, wondering if my intentions are still valid. Could this craft box be a metaphor for my life? Maybe it’s time to pass on the things I no longer need or want and mine that box for what is really important. Act on what’s important to enjoy it and not get bogged down by what I should let go of. Hey, thanks. I am tackling that box today.
LikeLike
It’s funny for me to be reading about buttons as I just inherited a bag full of them from J’s mother Mom. She is cleaning out her house in preparation for 2 family members to move in with her. We spent Sunday moving her bedroom across the hall to a larger room.
She was looking for items that would no longer fit her space. She pulled out 2 bags of old buttons & asked if anyone wanted them. I took a bag for Brant’s craft boxes. I had a mason jar full of old buttons when we moved into our home, but have been unable to locate them. I used to do a lot of cross stitch projects & would use the buttons in my designs when I could.
When Mom offered the buttons I could visualize Brant using them in his projects. Eyes for a snowman, home made greeting cards, whatever his creative side will allow. Who knows? Maybe a homemade mandala?
yb, your daughters could do the same thing.They seem to be very creative girls.
Also, My Doll, Dick made me chuckle! Jim’s dad discovering it!
I think that it is interesting to read what everyone considers their tools of the trade. D
LikeLike
Hey, Jackie, let me know how the mining of the crafts box turns out. It will be interesting to see what you decide to hang on to and what you let go of.
I think you’re on to something here: Could this craft box be a metaphor for my life? It could be, couldn’t it? Art imitating life, or in this case, art supplies imitating life ; – ). Sometimes I wonder if there is a certain trait that writers, in particular, share around holding on to things. Holding on to the past, holding on to things of beauty, things of meaning. I’ve met so many writers who do this, who are old souls in their core and who seem to gain comfort from old things. Like if let of the things, we’re going to lose the memories, too.
I definitely feel that way about a lot of things. My old letters, any and all things passed on to me by my parents, and even the old things I’ve collected. My old writings! Can’t forget about that.
I guess what this writing practice shed a light on for me was that right now the main “trade” in my life is writing. Everything else is extra stuff, stuff I’ve not realized. I have other tools that I use — all my doodling pens and few paints and brushes — but what came to me much more was all the stuff I’ve not used and even if I made time, don’t even want to use any longer.
Re: your brother throwing out the buttons — that would have broken my heart, too. Especially buttons collected over a couple of generations. Many odd, unusual ones. See, I think of all the cool pieces of art that can be created with them. Shoot, even someone not sentimental should have known he could have sold them on eBay for a lot of money, I bet.
LikeLike
diddy, that’s an excellent idea. I’ll turn the buttons over to the girls. In fact, now that my writing room is habitable, they’ve been sneaking in there to see what all I have. It’s the kind of place where there are boxes and baskets on shelves, things in drawers. The kind of “ooh, what’s this?” feel to it, given that so much of what’s in there has been stored or tucked away and is finally out in the open. So, they’ve been intrigued by the plastic tub and all the materials in it. I think I’ll see what I can pull out of there to set up in their workspace. That way some of it will actually get used.
Hey, you should photograph the two bags of buttons before they all end up in various crafts. It’d be a colorful photo. I love multiples. The textures and designs and materials the buttons are made of — a visual feast. Glad to hear they will go to good use. Buttons really are pretty cool.
LikeLike
diddy, I agree with ybonesy — photograph those buttons! Or have J. spread them out on the kitchen table and take a series of photographs. I’d love to see them. I probably ironed a lot of the clothes they came off of over the years. I wish I was around home as Mom is going through the 40+ years of history in that home. It’s got to be overwhelming. A trip down memory lane. (I also think the buttons would make great mandalas after you photograph them!)
ybonesy, two things struck me about this Writing Practice – how creative you were being with simple nails and a block of wood – yet you got in trouble for it. And you remember that today. The world is a very practical place and most people think in those terms. There’s a lot of stretching past the practical.
The other thing was the neat orderliness you felt looking at your dad’s drill bit case. Last week when Liz and I were moving some things into the studio, one thing I grabbed first was a bright yellow, hard plastic case (with a black back). It’s the size of a small briefcase with many compartments inside, and contains my rubber stamp collection and ink.
I love that case for the same reason – it’s a beautiful object, a storage container, that brings a simple, compartmentalized order to the chaos that is often going on inside my brain. I still smile when I look at that case. And did so, when I sat it down on one of the tables in the new studio.
I really enjoyed reading about your tools of the trade. A Writing Practice grounded in everyday objects as art.
LikeLike
Jackie, I was sad reading about the tossed out buttons and started to wonder if your brother sees himself that way – no-nonsense, practical, no room for sentiment. And then I wondered if he was that way growing up. I also wanted to say that I always enjoy when you comment. There are usually many layers there.
I hold on to way too many things, and connect them to memories. Or art materials that I might do something with someday. One thing I want to do in the new studio is go through them and get rid of what I know I won’t use. Donate them to someone who will. Gift them to just the right person or place.
LikeLike
ybonesy, this clarity from the Writing Practice is powerful:
I guess what this writing practice shed a light on for me was that right now the main “trade” in my life is writing. Everything else is extra stuff, stuff I’ve not realized. I have other tools that I use — all my doodling pens and few paints and brushes — but what came to me much more was all the stuff I’ve not used and even if I made time, don’t even want to use any longer.
LikeLike
yb & QM, I will have J photograph the buttons! Thanks for the idea!
QM, no need to worry. There are enough of us to help Mom get situated. I think too, that it must be overwhelming for her to take that trip down memory lane. But also a fresh start. The buttons were a bonus for me. I only took one bag, so perhaps she still has the other bag.
Jackie’s comments made me realize how much something as simple as a bag of buttons can have so many memories.
What better way to recycle them than use them in art projects?
yb, good to hear you are taking my advise by handing your buttons & other supplies over to your daughters. They should enjoy finding new ways to use them all! D
LikeLike
Can’t wait to see them, diddy. Maybe we can post them with a button haiku ; – ).
Yea, QM, that was a good ah-ha for me. Writing practice does that a lot — clarifies something that I might not be so clear about.
The tools of my trade will change as I’m able to truly practice other things, like painting. But right now I’m not doing that, so it seems disingenous to call all those paints I have “tools of my trade.” Even moreso to call all the other stuff I’ve been hanging on to “tools.” At least with the paints, I use them now and again.
QM, I’d *love* to see your rubber stamp collection in its case. I love love love rubber stamps. I have quite a few, although I don’t have them organized in anything other than a basket. One of the things I brought back for my daughters from a trip to Taos was a set of rubber stamp alphabets. And my friend Nathaniel brought them another set, this one of holiday images. We both bought the stamps from a really cool paper store off of Bent Street.
LikeLike
Hi,
I moved…….http://21daystogo.blogspot.com/
LikeLike
diddy, I’m glad you are all living in PA and able to support Mom and Grits through this big transition. I know I can rest easy because you are all so dependable. Yet I still worry sometimes! I like what you said about a fresh start. Fresh starts are so needed sometimes.
Hey, yeah, if Mom still has the other bag of buttons, ask her to save them if you talk to her first. I’d love to have them. Remember that button, button, who’s got the button? Or did I make that up.
LikeLike
QM, I try to be optimistic about the transition. J & I just want to help get things in order. Grits will be moving in on Sunday, so everything is rolling right along! Yes, fresh starts are so needed sometimes!
I will be calling Mom sometime today & I will make see if she still has the other bag of buttons & if she does we’ll save them for you!
Button, button, who’s got the button? You didn’t make it up!
I remember when I was a child, my cousins & I played it quite often when we all gathered at my Grandmother’s home! She taught us the game of guessing who had the button. D
LikeLike
diddy, seems like the transition is going well. I talked to Mom today before she headed to work. She said she was so appreciative of all the help moving into her newly painted room! She seems pretty happy, but tired. (And, she’s still got the buttons!)
Oh, I’m so glad I didn’t make up that rhyme about the Buttons. Do you remember how the game worked? Did you kind of pass the button around and then guess whose hand it was in? Kind of like the switching cups magic trick?
LikeLike
QM, I spoke to Mom last night. She already knew about the buttons, so you beat me to the punch. The button game, because there were so many of us, my Grandmother would give one of us the button. We would stand with our hands cupped behind our backs. The guesser would guess who had the button. The chosen child would put both hands in front & the guesser had to guess which hand it was cupped in. If wrong, the guesser would become the chosen child & he or she would make the next guess. As only my Grandmother & the button holder knew who had the button, the game could last a long time. Sometimes until there was only one child left. I’m sure there are many variations of the game, but it kept us quiet & occupied. My Grandmother was a smart woman! D
LikeLike
Oh, I don’t remember telling her last night. I must have left it in a message because I didn’t talk to her until today. Or else she read red Ravine. I could have said it though. My memory these days is, you know, kind of iffy. 8)
Oh, cool about the Button, button, whose got the button. Yeah, it sounds familiar. I’ll have to ask Mom if she remembers doing that with us. Or maybe it was Aunt Cassie. Buttons…who knew so many memories and conversations could come from buttons.
LikeLike
That’s what I was thinking. Hmmmm, future writing topic 8) .
BTW, I don’t remember the song. I wonder if it was regional. I’ll have to ask my sisters. It could be my memory.
LikeLike
Yes I remember playing button, buttons, but I don’t remember if you all did. I hope I don’t disappoint diddy , but the bag of buttons she has was mostly some I bought at the factory when I was making suits for T. And other sewing projects. The ones I have left are from clothes I’ve bought that had the extra button attached and a few I inherited from Mother and Aunt Cassie. These are more colourful because the others were made to go with mens clothing.
Since I’ve been going through things I’ve parted with so many memories and it is very hard for me to separate myself from the treasures. I just keep reminding myself that they have only been sitting in drawers and boxes and not used or looked at for many years. Maybe someone else can make memories with them and I will always have mine, Hopefully!!!!
The hardest part is finding places for the things I won’t part with. Except for a few things I have coaxed family members to take , the others are still in my breeze way, so the final let go is still to come, lol.
I want to thank all who have helped me . It is great to have my room(space) while everything else is in an uproar. In another couple of weeks things will be better. I still have a lot to go through.
LikeLike
Buttons can be used for so many projects. Kinda like they used to use different seeds and beans to make pictures with. We had a large rooster made from them. Also they decorate pillows ,Pocketbooks , etc. with them and sell them in the stores now. So take an old one you have and make your own . MY Aunt used to take my Uncle’s ties and made a quilt from them , I think that’s the one J has.You can use buttons on a quilt also.
Have fun , use your imaginations and start glueing and sewing .
LikeLike
Let me say that I am relieved that the buttons I have are from a sewing factory. I was beginning to feel guilty about using them in craft projects & made a decision to give them to QM. But now I can erase the guilt! Mom is right that buttons can be used for many things!Oh, we do have the quilt & pillow made by Aunt Cassie. They are in the guest room! All silk ties, quite colorful & fun to look at & touch!
Well, today is moving day, so I was just checking in. Gotta run! D
LikeLike
MOM, you’ve done a great job at letting go of all the old things. You still have your memories! It’s hard to let go when you’ve lived in the same place for so long, too. I went through some of that when I moved in with Liz. And now am going through it again when going through my art things for the studio. Thanks for saving the buttons!
diddy, you are so sweet. No need to feel guilty about the buttons though. Everything gets to the right people, I trust that. I’m glad you have a quilt from Aunt Cassie. Is that the one on the bed I slept on? I didn’t even know that. And all silk ties. cool.
Hey, hope moving day went well!
LikeLike
QM, the quilt of silk ties & the pillow are on a chair in the guest room. I would fear they would be ruined if I used them on a bed. I would like to have the quilt hung on a wall though. Make sure I show you when you visit again. They are a true work of art & Claude must have had a gazillion silk ties!
BTW, the move went well!
Mom has been a trooper & I am beginning to think she is more of a packrat than I am! I freely admit to being one. (Sorry Mom! I take pride in my packrat habit!) D
LikeLike
[…] -related to posts: haiku (one-a-day), WRITING TOPIC – TOOLS OF THE TRADE, ybonesy’s PRACTICE: Tools Of The Trade – 20min […]
LikeLike