Objects: purse, token, lock and keys, music string, timekeeper.
The object which is biggest, boldest, leaps out above all others, informs all others, is where I start.
Purse. Keeper of economies (in the black or in the red); keeper of treasures (in mine, 3 coins and a piece of bent metal I rescued from the road); and snap-open-my-mouth-closed keeper of memory, history, mythologies and meanings (threaded back to who-knows-when).
Then we'll start with black, pop in the treasure token, and stitch the purse so it can never be lost, to a background of feel-me silver shimmerings like distant stars (origins not found).
The lock I separate from the key (of course, because it wouldn't be Story to have problem and solution put together), and then I find transparencies that make me think about layerings of time and experience; I find fractured texts and tones of greys like snippets of songs, half-concealed, half-revealed (the way my memory works, or fails me).
Song, folk songs, the poetry of Keats, we're following natural beats and rhythms of the landscapes where we are turned into ravens since forever.
Time, kept quiet, put into the background, because I want to create in my books a poetry of materials that a holder uses to create their truths which endure, timeless.