This Old Desk!

I know it’s not really a desk, it’s a drawing, or drafting table, but I couldn’t get “This Old Desk” out of my head and “This Old Drafting Table” just didn’t seem to “cut the mustard”.  Anyway, my dad had this old drafting table in office for many years.  Dad was a general contractor Southwest Oklahoma and Northern Texas for over 50 years.   I don’t recall him ever telling me where, or how, he acquired it, but it occupied a prominent place in a room he designed for storing blueprints, drawings, and other such items just off his main office.  I remember growing up in his house and seeing him in what could best be described as a daydream, oblivious to the sounds and activities around him.  What he was doing was developing visions in his head of how something needed to be constructed or the steps required to produce the final result he was envisioning.  Sometimes, I’d see him sitting at this table sketching out on paper the final result of a daydream that had entertained him during an earlier time.  But for the most part, this table was a symbol for him.  It represented the need for planning and for seeing the end result before the endeavor was ever undertaken.  For the most part, these mental images stayed in his head until he imparted them to those skilled carpenters, masons, painters, and others who would bring to reality those images.  He could carry around in his head elaborate construction projects along with the finest of details and the most technical of process.  Many buildings and homes were built entirely from his “mental blueprint” based on the  scant description of what the owner wanted.  I remember a number of times, first thing in the morning, walking across a bare plot of dirt listening to him draw from his mind the dimensions required and placing markers in strategic points in the dirt helping us to begin to see the reality of  what he had already completed in a daydream.  He was like a chess master capable of  seeing every move of the match from the opening to checkmate.  I never had the gift or ever developed the skill to that point.

Putting an idea on paper to work the process was always necessary for me on any difficult or involved project.  And because of that I spent a fair share of my time at this table, putting on paper my visions or developing a plan on how to complete a project.  As a result, I was a much better draftsman than dad ever was!  Looking back,  I can’t remember how I came to have this table.  I’ve had it for over 25 years, or so, and, as you can see in this photo, it occupies a  corner in my home office.  I use it for a totally different purpose now, than it was ever used before.  It’s still a place where ideas and mental visions are fleshed-out to become reality.  Instead of being mental images, that take shape here, these are photo images produced by my camera from mental visions captured from reality.  This table has become a place where where layouts for scrapbooks are conceived and finished.  It’s a place where, I hope an artistic vision is brought into reality.  I use it to view negatives from my film days that have passed and where I spread printed images, the end result of work done from my digital darkroom.  It’s now a symbol for me, the way it was for dad; it’s planning, organization, and putting flesh on daydreams.  I love “This Old Drafting Table” and all the years of memories.

Lace Cactus

This morning’s email from Amazon.com contained a list of the best books of 2009, so far.  I clicked the link and soon began looking over the selections.  The title that caught my eye, was “The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie”, by Alan Bradley.  I began reading the description with interest, all along wondering if it would be something Sherry would enjoy.  Following the description there was an interview with the author, Alan Bradley.  That’s when the “Aha” moment happened.  Mr. Bradley wrote this book at age 70!  He hasn’t always been a published author, although he stated he always thought he could write, even at age 5.  He went on to note, “Seneca, an ancient Roman author, had said something like this, ‘Hang on to your youthful enthusiasms, you’ll be able to use them better when you’re older.’”

These words were just the ones I needed to hear.  I don’t recall how young I was when I first had the awareness that I wanted to accomplish something more than I was capable of at the time.  What I can remember is that throughout most of my life I have a strong sense that there is something I want to say, but the how, what, and when has always escaped me.  I’ve been developing my photography in isolation for many years.  I’ve been interested in photography since age 16.  Other than the few years spent in my mid-20s as a professional working in and out of a studio, it’s just been me and my camera.  The time has never seemed “right”.  The support and encouragement has never been there, either.  However, I would never give up my “youthful enthusiasm” and perhaps one day, someday, beauty may yet burst forth, even from something as forboding and and threatening as the Lace Cactus pictured above.  I may become an old curmudgeon before anyone cares about my photos, but Alan Bradley gives me hope.