Drawers Around And About

Aren't drawers wonderful? They can help to make life into a semi-organized journey for those afflicted with left-brain-itis, and they have the added bonus of being quite beautiful objects. Some have a Wabi-Sabi flavor. Those are the drawers with character. Others are the most spartan form of utilitarianism. Doesn't matter-- they are all interesting because they hold things for us. Some mystery always lies behind a drawer face. I am one who cleans up periodically, and because I'm not day-to-day neat, I tend to swoop things into the nearest available drawer. Then, when enough things have gone missing, I start the search through the drawers to see what I've stashed away. Sometimes there are huge surprises, not always pleasant-- particularly if I've just yesterday purchased a replacement for some newly-rediscovered item. Other times, there are happy reunions.

Not-so-large boxes of drawers can be moved from room to room and serve different purposes as needs change. The drawers above have been in kitchens, dining rooms, bedrooms, and presently reside in the living room. "Have nothing in your house that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful," as William Morris has advised householders for over a hundred years. I have, fortunately, outlived many wedding gifts of dubious beauty or use, and have enough years on me to have replaced less attractive things with objects that have a comfortable and happy feel to them.

This box of drawers is very old. We found it in Clinton in the corner of a dusty place. It was calling my name before the door shut behind me! The shot shows the original finish and the dove-tail detail. It also has living room space:



This little "box" of drawers fits in my hand and was a purchase at the Piedmont Art Festival when Jordan was small, a treasure that never fails to make me smile. Each little drawer is absolutely perfect!



And passing through the kitchen I have these drawers sitting at the end of the island, on a low book shelf that houses my cook books. They are especially treasured, despite their small size, because I have only six drawers in my kitchen, so narrow they are not even useful for holding silverware! But these pine drawers are in a stepped-front cabinet, so the top ones are the short ones, and the third set, at bottom, are the longer ones:



The drawers in the studio are the real workhorses. My admiration for old things has led to collecting cabinets and drawers that I could use for storage, and the studio is the perfect place for them. My beads are stored in a jeweler's tool case. Opening the drawers is like a trip to a pirate hide-out with privileges in the store room:



And when I need a weaving shuttle or my dremel tool, elastic, miscellaneous tools or stamps, there is the apothecary chest, originally from France (complete with beautifully scripted cards recording prescriptions and patient information from the early 20th century-- all now sent to recycling). The drawers are the size of library card catalogues of yore, but not so sturdily made, since the drawers would not sustain such rough or frequent handled as library drawers. A lovely and utile cabinet of 45 drawers!



There are DMC thread cabinets for sorting threads by colorways, and the crewel and wool/silk yarns are in larger plastic drawers placed under the two side windows of the studio, stacked single drawers of miscellaneous embroidery gear, a tall, thin set of drawers that came out of an old hardware store-- the boxes are made of wooden cigar boxes, with wooden fronts attached! And tucked into little spots on the back wall of bookcases, small drawers prop up leaning lines of fiber-related books.

But the point of all these boxes and drawers is this: they keep things in place for me. I don't have to scramble through large, messy cardboard packing boxes to look for things. So much of what I do is small-scale, requiring things that would simply slip through the cracks of day-to-day living. And all these boxes are a wonderful way of keeping me "straight," neat (a loose use of the word) and organized (also a stretch of the meaning of the word). Most are old friends. In addition, they are a pleasant sight when I am working. Where would I be without all my boxes? Perhaps up the proverbial creek without the appropriate paddle . . . ?