in the fresh air of morning i sat at the kitchen table with some shells. a collection plucked from the wet sand on some beach, somewhere in the last couple of years. it would have been deposited in my pocket and at the end of a day i would have found it and probably several others rattling against each other.
did i leave my keys in my pocket? oh, it’s the shells.
i would have lined them up on the dresser and as the days went by they would have multiplied. sand would have accumulated. at some point i would’ve rearranged them in order from biggest to smallest. and at the end of the week they would have gotten scooped up and dropped in a ziplock bag. now 2 or 3 or 4 or 1 year later i find them in the back of a desk drawer. almost exactly like shell collecting at the beach, but different.
this is the very last page in this sketchbook and wouldn’t you know it, i put the wrong date.
i wanted the last page to look like the first page.
here are more pages from the same book. you’ve seen them all before in various posts.
now i officially have a reason to make another BIG sketchbook. this one only had 2 signatures. and seems to contain many painted collections of sea stones, shells, seaglass. many of us have the need to record the narrative of our lives in word and picture and drawing.
i was here. this is what i did. this is how i lived.
i’m no different.
oh look! a cuckoo clock segue.
there she is, friends. found in the storybook village of oberammergau, germany. my very own cuckoo clock.
you cannot know how much i love this clock. she has a personality!
every half hour and hour i wait for the call of the cuckoo.
when we were kids we had a cuckoo clock. none of us can remember what happened to it or where it came from, but i am sure this is its cousin. it feels perfect for moss cottage. i did a fair amount of cursing while i was unpacking it and figuring out how to get the cuckoo to sound. after 2 days of tinkering and about 12 youtube videos, i got her working!
wish mama moss was here to see. i think she would approve.
have you ever had a cuckoo clock? they aren’t for everyone. somewhat impractical. but i love winding her every day. pulling the chains down, watching the pinecone weights move back up, shutting the sound off at night.
i glued a piece of paper to the back with the date, my name, and a few sentences. i am positive mama moss would have labeled our old clock. she labeled everything.
someone, somewhere out there has our childhood cuckoo clock. i like to think of who they could be. maybe a little old lady who found it in a junk store in arkansas 15 years ago. or a 10 year-old girl who likes to tinker with things, whose dad bought it for her on ebay last year. and it’s in a house. by the sea. where the windows are open right now. you can hear the roar of the waves and white stars are blinking on outside the window. and just now it cuckooed, the curtains stirred, and the song of it drifted out of the window and into the night.