Shelf Life

On Being Temporary

Rooting Around

I was at a thrift store the other day, a haunt I frequent, looking for stuff. You know, stuff for inspiration, ideas, maybe a piece of something interesting. I love finding old tools, the ones from a bygone era that have been replaced by battery powered tools that do the job quicker, but not always better. Taking the skill of the person, and putting into the device (Supposedly).

Rummaging in the store, certain things almost always get me. Any stuff made of metal, or wood, like the shoe trees shown below (yes that’s what they are called, I had to google it). I placed them here, on my work table to create sort of a collage. The trees will probably outlast anything I happen to create here, out of paper and paint.

Lasting. Someone, somewhere took the time to create these, and they have outlasted all the shoes that they ever supported. They are old: even though you can still buy shoe trees, it was clear from the stamping, the rivets and other details these are probably 60-75 years old. Maybe more? Based on the style, I think my guess is close.

When Craft becomes Art

I don’t know why I like them, exactly, or what I plan to do with them. Maybe I’m drawn because they are self contained, and do a job that’s seems obvious. They are works of craftmanship for sure, but border on art. I mean, why put the slots in? Most shoe trees don’t have these, at least not modern ones. Why bother staining them? I think the maker wanted them to look good on their own, even when the purpose was to be hidden away, inside perhaps a pair of dress shoes that were rarely used. The emergence of the tree signaling a funeral, or wedding. Or maybe even every week for church? Now they will go on a shelf, as a piece in their own right. Shelf Life.

Stories

It’s amazing these have lasted, and especially amazing they are still a pair. I dug them out of a bin, in the basement of the store. In the bin were at least a dozen single trees, with no sibling. Like socks, which forever seem to be losing their mates in the laundry process. But these, these shoe trees have a story to tell, of travels, or shoes kept in shape, of garage sales, maybe estate sales of deceased owners. Maybe an auction? I can hear the auctioneer, he’s at the end of the event and selling off “lots”, small things in a collection that won’t bring money on their own.

Start the bidding at 10 dollars, do I hear 5, 5 yes 5, thank you sir, do I now hear 10, 7, 7 is the bid…. and so on.

How many owners have they outlasted?

Half Life

In that same basement, was art. Pictures, most in frames, stacked in racks. Stacks and stacks. Rows and rows of racks. I saw a well done pencil drawing of Robert Duvall, and it was autographed. It was done with Robert in a cowboy hat. Was his cowboy era after the Godfather? It was 10 dollars. I think its interesting how, a wooden pair of shoe trees still has a function, and has lasted so long, and art which is supposed to be emotional, tends to be so perishable. Robert is definitely not that young anymore.

Upon seeing Robert Duvall, I was a little depressed. I mean, all the stuff, I write, and create, is it really that perishable? Put upon a wall, then falling out of favor, taken down and replaced? Does it all first end up in someone’s basement, only to be relegated later to an estate sale or a second hand store? After thinking about it a little more, I realized you know, someone thought enough about Robert Duvall to not just throw him in the trash. They donated him, or gave him to someone who then donated him.

I can think of worse fates for a piece of art. Passed around, and now for sale once again, to someone who thinks Robert Duvall is the bomb, and

“Do you remember him in “Joe Kidd”, he was the bad guy. He could play a really good bad guy.”

My Brilliant Masterpiece - Sonny’s Dream

This piece doesn’t photograph very well. It’s 3 dimensional, and has grown as I have worked it. I like that about certain art, where it takes you in a direction you didn’t know was coming. Will it end up in a second hand store someday? I could only hope for that fate. It’s delicate, so I doubt it will hold up to being stacked in a basement. But it’s really OK, as Kurt Vonnegut once said:

“Practicing an art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow, for heaven’s sake. Sing in the shower. Dance to the radio. Tell stories. Write a poem to a friend, even a lousy poem. Do it as well as you possibly can. You will get an enormous reward. You will have created something.”

So this is my creation, and it’s made in such a way I doubt it will even outlast me, and that’s alright. It exists in this world for now, but won’t outlast a shoe tree. At least not a well made one. Maybe the more emotional a piece is, the shorter it’s time, burning out as a candle, lit from both ends.