When I was a child I loved finding things…

…a jar of my grandmother’s old buttons, a cigar box filled with boy scout badges and river stones, a flouncy party dress pushed to the back of my mother’s closet – circa 1955. With every relic I discovered, there came a story. Real or imagined, the tales that surrounded each object were magic, making the ‘thing’ more immediate, something more than it was before I’d found it.

Fact or fiction, fantastic, joyful or sad, stories make us more than we were before we found them. Welcome to my shoebox of buttons, sealing wax and scribblings.

-Ami

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