So you see, much of this tale, can be said to have its origin within the beautiful chipped paint, of a magical wooden button...
A button, that was known to mesmerize a certain sort of fair haired girl... She twisted and juggled the button, along the tops of her fingertips. Tops of fingertips? Now there is a curious notion...
The button spoke to her.
It whispered secrets...
It even served as a mandolin pick, in a pinch...
Could you imagine, having a singular button obsession? When she thought she lost it, her cheecks became crimson. No from anger but from fear. Her fingers and toes turned cold. "My button, she gasped, my button!" Then she recalled, " Ah yes, it is folded 43 times into the right hand corner of a white waffle quilted towel, resting inside of a box, by the chest of drawers, in the depths of a 100 year old trunk."
Safe as could be.
Phew - close call.
Now the question of the day would be "How well do you know this girl woman?" And how well, do you know what a button as such, could prompt?
Did you perhaps know, that this girl loved to collect things? Possibly maybe?
No no, not perfect new things. Not newly manufactured things...
Not even things that cost little papers called money...
But wonderfully old things... The more tarnished and tattered, the better.
Rusted lovely things...
The older the better. They held stories, tales, legends, myths, sagas...
She got on her knees, and looked through treasures in the most fabulous antiques shop in the wooorld. You like that old mirror? her friend asked on Friday. "You can hardly see yourself in it..."
I can see myself in it perfectly fine, she replied. Whilst she peered in longingly, hoping to see someone from the past peering back...
It went home with her. Ten dollars, SOLD!
She had the perfect vintage satin sea foam green ribbon for it...
She kept her eyes open for "treasures," and found them often. But really she felt like sometimes they found her. She would think of an object and voila, it was there... Like this amazing contraption she found on her and Mister Lovee's property. Living under layers of dirt... OH me oh my!! How exciting!!
Although - people always said, how do you always find what you want? Truth was, she felt her standards of acceptance were lower than most. Which is why perhaps, she found what she was looking for most of the time... That goes for love too. It wasn't so much that her standards were low at all. It was that, she was open. Because really, it takes time to know if something truly is a treasure...
Like a button on loose pants.
Or a Mister Lovee's instinct at knowing just what to say and do (crying as well, which is outrageously comforting), as she falls apart over the true story, of the Little Pink House.
And, a 7 dollar crystal encrusted bracelet, could only be labeled as a treasure, if she had the perfect place to wear it to...
Like on a walk in the garden...
On the twinkly path...
The path that led past the Tiny Ghost Town...
Where the tale veered because, as she knelt down to take this photo, she was tackled by a beast...
A beast who was actaully, a lovely creature. A creature who thought every moment of life was a party. Wagging her tale, as the girl hit the ground...
This lovely creature's personality was best summed up in this photo...
Anyhow, after a meeting with the "party animal," she headed back down the path to the sanctuary... Where again, her personality could be seen, by simply taking a look at her collected treasures...
Headless? Perfection...
One eared? Better yet...
When ever she visited the concrete and garden art shop, the owner would motion her past the outside shop, and to the back of the property. Where the owner would holler through a gorgeous thick accent, to a helper, as a warning that the girl was allowed to be back there picking though the non-saleable zone, "See only like to buy zee broked singz."
The girl smiled. Broken, is lovely she thought... Mister Lovee is broken, and he's a keeper.
(non-sensical sidenote: Whenever Mister Lovee was being exceptionally bad, the girl would say, "Don't worry, I will NEVER EVER leave you." And he would pretend to cry. Not from being touched by the beauty of that. But by being terrifed of his reality. HAHA!)
Anyhow, you get the gist of where the story is winding to...
The girl put tea pots she made and broke, into the garden, and beheld them as glorious wonderments...
Cracked and peeling paint... How could you not love him?
Piles of broken glass strewn throughout the garden acreage - with a glimmer of their iridescence still holding on for dear life...
She spotted a weathered deteriorated little house in her mother's garden. "Can I have it?" she whispered, as she looked at it longily through a window, flecked with cold winter rain...
"Of couuuuurse my love" Mombie said in her song like voice...
In love...
So where is all this nonsense leading us, you ask?
Well, as I said...
It all started with a button, and a girl, and the things she loved, that enchanted her. So you see, with this button in her heart...
She met a playable creature.
That quite curiously, looked like the button.
Black, with weathered edges, beautifully distressed, and little bits of cognac brown, glimmering through... You didn't think she was hauling home a perfect black Bösendorfer, did you (maybe one day she'd find an old one)? Or, the shiniest brand new thing in the showroom?
Oh no no no.
She needed tales. She needed lives of others embedded into the keys...
She needed 1924 and Hugo Sohmer in her life... A piano on a train 85 years ago... On it's way to a true village, in a tiny town, in Arizona. A bit of a Ghost Town actually...
But the whole of this story, came after she got the creature home.
The tuner, rebuilder, piano rockstar delivery guy (who was now her best friend, seriously, and looked like Bryan Ferry's blonde cousin), who you would learn all about later, raved about the sound, the way it played...
Ha, she thought - "I knew you couldn't judge a book by its cover." Although its worn tattered cover, or body in this case, is what called her in the first place... So it can be supposed that it depends, whose judging... ;)
Nevertheless, whatever the story may be. The owl approved. And is now the honorary piano guard...
Of, a creature, so intensly curious (I know I over-used this word, but it is only suitable), so enchanting, that its personality is ever so gingerly being revealed...
Truth be told, you can play a piano, and it will tell you right away, if it is a boy, or a girl, a man, a woman, mean or kind, sneaky or creepy... Or alltogether, so shallow, it has no personality at all...
But this sweet creature...
It was shy in a way. Those shy creatures, that open up like a rosebud, only with trust. Revealing, that although, it had been born 85 years ago, and knew lots of things from books and such... It was an eternal child.
And, much to her surprise... This creature, wanted to hear her stories. So, she played, tickled her new friend... And, had full attention during quite the story of the Famous Blue Raincoat. A visit from Leonard Cohen was a bonding moment... Amongst dozens of songs already shared...
You see, this little creature, was protected from the real world, while living for 72 years, in a highschool in a tiny desert village, in the middle of nowhere. Where it was chained and locked shut. Taunted by children. Songs in C, played over and over by piano teachers.
But it had secrets too. Tales of late night hours, when someone would play until the early morning hours... Pouring true sagas, into the keys...
And then off to live with a teacher for 10 years, and then 3 years with the lovely man I made the adoption from...
But now, now safe with the cheese balls, Dovee and Lovee... Who love him to pieces. Yes, I said him. A mom who thought she wanted a girl - and now is in love with her son, the eternal child...
I sound kind of nutty don't I? ;) But, if you too, speak a special langauge with pianos, or know someone who does, then you hear me loud and clear ;)
So, that is how the most button like piano, came to find its home with me. I love him so. I have been waiting for him (my baby grand) my whole life... The actual "matching" button, will be permanently adhered soon.
And, La Pianola, who I have been playing since age three, and painted to be wacky and wild, is happy to have a new sibling ;) Although she lives at the city houseling...
Thank you for going on this piano journey with me. It warms me to the core!!
Now - if you are still reading this, I am changing the subject... Becauuuuuse.
I have a very special Valentine for someone. All tucked into a precious lil' tin...
In this tin, you will find, a very magical, and super power filled, Robin's Blue Egg ring.
Protected by a very special lil' bird...
All tucked into the precious tin...
With lovely bits of beloved lace ribbon...
That protect the invaluable ring ;)
Enveloped in a piece of beautiful robin's egg blue, vintage satin ribbon for your hair, lapel, or anywhere really ;)
Sealed up and protected by a crocheted key (oh and there is a sparkly brooche in their too :)...
So, say Hello, and I'll drop your name in the hat and draw a name for the next post... If you want to be my Valentine, that is ;)
Before I go, here is a peek at the treasures Mister Lovee collects also... He brings them for both of us to play with... And he sometimes uses them in his art as well... I guess, we both love rusty old things... His collection is vast. This is just what he recently plunked out of the car. I'll snap more photos soon...
Now I best be off. Before you disown me for talking to much and/or ridiculously long posts that take me almost all day to write ;)
♥ ♥ ♥ ♥, V
