And as I edit this post (though I’m leaving in the phrase “a tourist gift shop clay vase”, despite that it may to some seem an awkward formulation), still more years afterward, I find the screw driver still there, in the same handle-up position, though the miniature touristy pot is concealed now behind the pencil sharpener.
(I’ve edited out the first paragraph of this three paragraph post that would have explained the foregoing sentence. In that paragraph, I’d revealed that I came across a drawing I’d made years ago of a screw driver sticking out of a clay vase someone had got me from a tourist shop in South America, and I’d looked up from the drawing and found the screw driver was still in the vase and the vase still on my desk years later — the same place it had been when I’d made that drawing.)
And still more years later, as I continue to edit the post, one final time before putting it up, putting it up though I don’t suppose a person would read it, and why would they, yet why would I edit it, why would I put it up. Even so, I notice that it is no longer on the desk behind the sharpener, but on the window sill, a few inches behind, and the screw driver is not in the vase nor anywhere to be seen. (Now still more years have passed, and the screw driver has been replaced by two pencils. I had used the screw driver to remove the thermostat from the wall, so as to paint around it, my first ever home improvement project, which was an unqualified success. I’ve replaced the original third paragraph of this three paragraph post with this one, but am considering adding a fourth, for the reason that nothing of significance has so far materialized in this post, though there must have been something that initially inspired it. There has to have been something that had inspired me to make the initial drawing of the screwdriver sticking out of the small clay vase, and there had been something about seeing the drawing years later that inspired this post: perhaps the point was just the irony that I had made the sketch/the artwork to preserve something, but that thing had endured very well on its own. )
No I can’t hold it to a third paragraph, will have to go back and fix things, “a four paragraph post” I will say, but in some last effort to give this post a point and reason for being I’ll merely draw your attention to the weird ad hoc yet permanent existence of many of the objects in our households. You set something down just to get it out of your hands — where do I put this vase, you think one day — gotta put this screw driver somewhere you think another day– and now it’s furniture, a part of your everyday landscape, in fact it’s been that way for over ten or twenty years.
.i`` * ^ / . . . . . ` `~ 