Ahh, RUST… the ultimate prize in the quest for new creative fodder. These seemingly ancient artifacts bear a patina that only time, wind, sun, and moisture can create…the scarcely recognizable hints of color, the weird and twisted shapes…all those things that make my heart swell with joy.
My father wants to paint it.
My husband wants to avoid it.
My brother wants to lubricate it.
My mother wants to trash it.
I want to celebrate it!
And I know I’m not alone. There are those of us who covet it above everything else…and who are always on the prowl for more. Like one of my artist friends, who drives his truck around little towns and asks the old timers where the dump used to be. Sometimes it’s found along roads, or on a hike. Occasionally I see some at a swap meet or yard sale…and last year I found near Nirvana…an acre of rusty oddments at the Antique Auto Club Swap Meet! But alas, it was a terribly soggy summer day and sheets of plastic were undoubtedly hiding tons of would-be treasures.
I’ll be there at sunrise come August, my pockets bursting with cash, and my soul eager for yet another fix of that cherished elixir…
Did I mention that it’s good for my heart?