Friday, 28 September 2012

I Am A Magnet....

...I collect. What? Well, anything, really; not from a conscious, rational decision, but a sort of 'creeping-up-behind-me-accumulation-of-stuff'' effect. It all depends on what I've been busy doing over the past few days, or weeks, or let's face it, months.

At the heart of this colourful still life is a clip top storage box, designed to accommodate exactly the kind of small items any craft addict will understand. But then, the lid of this handy box turns into a shelf and in next to no time, certain items take root and the whole assemblage begins to acquire the appearance of a Still Life arrangement for Budding Artists. Note the capital letters, which imbue this statement with gravitas.

Now the 'stuff'' becomes merely an interplay of form and colour, something to be appreciated in its own right, and my sense of propriety and tidiness flies out the window. It has its own persona, this group of items, with a story ready to sprout from each one.

A box of rubber bands I bought while I was still at work, which dates them as being at least five years old, were recently brought into play when I needed to bundle something up - I forget what (!) - but their bright blue carton goes so well with the blue clip on the box, and contrasts delightfully with the  green, Scotch Magic Tape container in the foreground...

Then there's an added visual zing from the pink and turquoise pair of compasses, attached to a sad, red and black pencil which has seen better days.  It echoes the scarlet head of the bird who's lost his tweet and, at the top of the picture, the ribbon badge, unraveled, which was once the emblem of some charity campaign.

There's a delicate, wooden filigree  bookmark which came all the way from China - a gift from a workmate - and it's silken cord adds its rich gold tone to the acid yellow of the bird's underbelly. He was a Christmas present from a neighbour, who knew well my sense of fun. For several years, the slightest movement would start up a tweeting song from this warbler, but now his battery has expired, and there's no way to replace it.

So to the casual observer this may be a heap of detritus, but to me, it's a living story, still being written today, for the box of pins, there amongst the heap, will aid me in a dressmaking enterprise this very afternoon!

23 comments:

  1. I know exactly what you mean! I have no idea where half of my stuff came from though. I just know that it's the sort of stuff I'd collect. A mini avalanche is due any time soon though.

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    1. We are birds of a feather, obviously...:)

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  2. You've been to my house! :D :D

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    1. Hehehe! If I had, then I know I'd feel at home!

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  3. Most of my house looks like this! If it's not my clutter it's my husband's.
    Is the red and black pencil a Staedtler? I always felt I was doing something important if I used one of those;-)

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    1. Staedtler is is! They were the only pencils with a wide choice of hard/soft, graded leads. I always needed a pencil suited to the task ahead, and passed on this quirk to my son - the original owner of the pencil in this picture. However, he had an awful knack of chewing the ends - which is why there's a mangled one on show...It had to undergo the twirl of a pencil sharpener to remove the evidence, and at that point, it was left to me to be its custodian ad infinitum.
      See, even the pencil has a back story! :)

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  4. "Detritus" is one of my favorite words, so I'm glad to see you putting it to such good use.

    I have a similar piece of art near my bed. It is a stack of books, notebooks, unopened mail, grocery coupons, unfinished manuscripts, and CDs I haven't listened to in about six years. It grows an inch or two every week. Actually, while it started as one pile, it has since branched out to become three. Once it becomes so large as to keep me from either getting into or getting out of the bed, then I will scale it back.

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    1. You obviously understand the concept of true collecting! perhaps we should start a Members Only Detritus Club, with an annual award to the person who can come up with the OLDEST piece in any one collected pile...We might need to begin date stamping everything we add to each pile, as eventual proof of age... although your unopened mail might stand a good chance of winning already...

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  5. Ah Jinksy, I belong to the other school - I cannot bear to see stuff lying about, so I tend to throw out. Then a few months later I need it and have to buy fresh. Somewhere in the middle would be best methinks.

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    1. If only! It's a difficult point to find...like the Grand Old Duke of York, neither up nor down...sort of...

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  6. This post could've been written by me! I'm just the same. Everything object has a story and I am too sentimental by far. The junk containers pile up.
    Maggie X

    Nuts in May

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  7. PS.... that should have read every object!
    Maggie X

    Nuts in May

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  8. Oh, dear gods, this is like my workroom -- all those bits and pieces waiting for eventual incorporation into something Truly Magnificent (note gravitas.)

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    1. I Applaud Gravitas!! Not enough bloggers use capital letters, and they deserve their Place in Society! Hehehe!

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  9. I do like the way flat surfaces of any kind provide such convenient resting places for things .

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  10. Not only do you collect wonders for the eye to behold (love the colors)...but your word pictures in your blog add so much to your collection. You are a smart lady...in more ways than one.
    Terrific blog...
    Write on, my friend!
    Hugs,
    J.

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    1. Thank you Jackie! It's nice to think my words have a purpose. :)

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  11. Zing goes a million! I think... I too collect junk, though maybe not quite so avidly.

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  12. I am still trying to give away, discard the stuff I accumulated when my kids were young. Some of it is sentimental and hard to part with! Besides, I don't know what they will want to keep after all. I think we all have this problem...

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  13. Accumulating is what most of us seem to do without even trying. I still have some overhead markers from my teaching days, which are now a decade in the past.

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  14. oh, i understand. i really do!

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