It started in boxes. The kind of boxes that you would see in the corner of your father’s garage you know the one.
The one that has oil stains, tattered edges and is filled with all kinds of stuff. As a kid I lived for these boxes the discovery’s they held. I would love to get elbow deep in them with the wonderment of what they could collectively be.
The boxes I had today came with others it was like getting a set that never really went together. All different sizes with stuff scribbled on the sides “carburetors” or “clutch” some had previous things like kitchen or recycling. These boxes of cores were in a shed under a balcony more of a cave but what ever. I collected them up and brought them out to the waiting trailer.
