Washers

OK - so, yes, I should GET THIS BY NOW, but I don't seem to REALLY believe and put faith into it. This week, as part of my "art sanity" I decided I needed to find something rusty. Washers came to mind, I've always had a thing for washers. The round metal rings. They look impossibly useless, and yet, much needed to make mechanical things go round. I even remember my feeling of "you are kidding me" when as a kid I found out these things had a purpose! (And, of all the household equipment, I do love the dishwasher and clothes washer the best.)

We live in covenant controlled suburbia. Grass by sod. Cement driveways. Trees first outlined on a map of the yard, then placed with shovel and dirt from the store. Not much chance for a rusty washer, or two.

Well, ye of little faith, while outside grooming the gardens, making sure the grass remains on its side of the edging - what did I find along the neighborly wooden stockade fence (just in case the cattle get loose, one can never be too prepared) - not one, but TWO washers. Different sizes, too. BOTH with rust.

Serendipity - an answer from the universe - gives me goose bumps.

For good measure, I added the two washers to my growing shrine to DisCo. One of my original bundles is spending a bit more travel time outside in the elements - receiving a bit more texture from mother nature and resting in the creative energy of the DisCo shrine.