A familiar thought was running through my head this afternoon as I worked on the latest “Dream Boat” mobile. I thought of my dad---a man of invention and incredible common sense. Although he spent his life working in an oil refinery, Dad built the house I grew up in---and then a beach cabin on the Texas Gulf Coast. He had limitless practical abilities--the kind of innately logical thinker that I haven’t observed in many people in my life.
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| Jim West |
When there was any project going at our house, there was always the “perfect knot” to tie it with--knots with amazing names like slip knot, half-hitch, sheep shank, clove hitch, cow hitch...bowline. Perhaps it was because my dad had been an Eagle Scout...or perhaps it was just because knots were sensible things to know about--he not only knew about them, but Dad could tie them precisely and use them effectively in every situation.
A few years ago, I had a burning desire to put up a clothesline in our then, very urban, Denver back garden. After making a trip to the local hardware store to buy all the necessary bits, I returned home and began fashioning a clothesline in a somewhat unconventional configuration to fit our garden space. When it came time to knot the line to the hardware, there wasn’t a moment’s hesitation, I began tying a bowline, and I could hear my father’s voice...”the rabbit emerges from a hole, goes under the log, jumps back over the log and back in the hole.” I had a clear vision of him tying this same knot at some time in my childhood--the patience and precision of his thick, brown hands moving deliberately.
I had the same experience today as I began knotting the ending pieces of hemp and silk for the “dream boat.” My dad was again alongside me.
Isn’t it wonderful that those rich pieces of our childhoods---and most especially, the people we’ve loved--live on in the smallest tasks or moments in our busy lives?
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| Dream Boat II - recycled book pages, cottonwood twigs, hemp cord, found objects. |
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