I am drawn to old things. Overlooked scraps of history that still have stories to tell. Forever perusing flea markets, antique stores and estate sales for something small-but meaningful that I can incorporate into a new wearable design.
It seems I'm always hunting for old:
• yellowing pages;
• love letters;
• post cards with handwritten sentiments;
• skeleton keys;
• rusty nuts and bolts
• poetry books
• pieces of metal
• scraps of ribbon
A recent find of mine was a fragile book of poetry by William Clemens Brightrall, published in 1925. The pages were yellowing and the text was a good size. Perfect, I thought, for the project I was working on. A new series of earrings featuring tiny words set in a bezel and filled with clear resin. New pieces with a nod to to the past.
But as I went through the book cutting words from their intended meanings, I came across a poem that made me stop. I read it. I reread it. 14 powerful lines. I wrote them down. I committed it to memory.
But in the process of my work, I had cut apart some of the words of this poem. I now had to search for another copy of this book that was undisturbed. Searching all over the internet I continued to come up empty handed. It was out of print and unavailable. After several weeks, someone responded to a post I had left. They had the book I was looking for! When it arrived in the mail, I was delighted to find that it had a faint hand written inscription from the author, "May you find a line to make you smile and a thought to linger for awhile. Sincerely Wm. Clemens Brightrall... 1966".
My Yesterdays... by Wm. Clemens Brightrall
If I could gather my Yesterdays,
I'd sort them one by one;
I'd take the dark and gloomy days
And lay them in the sun.
And they would be the better made,
By being shone upon.
Then I'd take my shiny days,
The days that knew a smile,
And heap them with the other days,
To rear a radiant pile.
For they would cleanse the darker days
Of all their hurts and sorrows,
Then I would live them o'er again,
In all of my tomorrows.