The photos on these pages (and probably the poems too) grew from my compulsive habit of picking up things when I walk: nails, screws, nuts, bolts, washers, pennies, bullets, beer cans and bottle caps, scrap metal, wire, rocks, glass, ceramic shards, CDs, hitches, hinges, rings, buttons, balls, fuses, springs, photos and IDs, ear rings, beads, spoons, forks, knives, eyehooks, pins, tire weights, lead, copper, string and straws…& on and on.

Each possesses its own beauty as a result of being washed, worn, scratched, pressed, and shorn in the world. For example, the paper-thin penny created in the relentless collaborative effort between tires and road.

But, all these things seem more than mere discrete objects—they seem part of one another too. Connected—at the very least by location. All—found on a manmade “shore,” the narrow curbside strip between roads, parking lots, grassy medians, and sidewalks. These things “washed up” as flotsam on a “between” place and thus possess the magic of objects that belong to two worlds at once.

Think of the Queen Conch Shell displayed on a bookshelf like art—it’s apertural view revealing a pearly surface of cream, pink, and white; it’s spiral shape a Fibonnaci number in 3D. And yet, this beautiful thing was first at home in the shallow waters of the Caribbean, moving with its occupant by vaults in meadows of underwater turtle grass.

Like Pippi Longstocking, I am a finder of things, a “Thing-Finder.”

And like Adam, I am a “Thing-Namer,” a “Thing-Arranger,” and a “Tender of All Things Thing.”


3 thoughts on “Aesthetic

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  2. Long live the magpie aesthetic—espying/pocketing/naming (and being named in turn)—be it the surface patina of distress or shine. I dressed up as Pippi once; I’m now thinking that coat hanger bent around my head and through my pigtails might account for a few things. Thanks for entertaining me and making me remember as well as think!


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