Creativity

It was John Keats who wrote, "a thing of beauty is a joy forever." 

Take a look at this button. Many years ago, someone created this marvelous piece of art from a lowly seashell, some dye, and some bits of steel. And I am enjoying it tonight. Amazing!

As I look at this beautiful button, it is a tiny thing and not all that significant in the grand scheme of things. Yet, it causes me to marvel once again at our Creator, who designed and executed such a varied and beautiful universe.

It caused me tonight to stop and meditate on the fact that we have been given the capacity to recognize beauty. Indeed, we appreciate the colors, shapes, and sounds all around us. We are awestruck by the crashing waves on the sea, the uniqe detail of every, single snowflake, the aroma of a rose, the taste of chocolate, and the vastness of the milky way.

And beyond our ability to enjoy the beauty around us, we also have the desire within ourselves to be creative! We imagine, we design, we plan, we build, we work, we decorate, we arrange. We certainly are creative beings!

Maybe you wonder why all of that is important to me. It is because I truly believe our creativity is one of the evidences that we human beings really were made in the image of God, just as the Bible says.

Ah! This gorgeous button reminded me of the wonder of it all.

Of Butter Prints and Potter's Sheds

All my life I've said, "farm life is wonderful for children." I know that because my childhood in the 1940s and 1950s was spent on our little 50-acre farm. One of my duties (and joys) was to help make the butter. We used an old barrel churn that was an antique, even then. Once the cream was churned into butter and "gathered" into a soft lump, we drained off the buttermilk and gave the fresh butter to Mom. She was expert at taking the newly churned butter to wash it, work it, press it into the wooden butter print, and wrap the resulting block of butter in fresh parchment. It was a work of art and a labor of love.

Some prints were just plain, hinged wood, but others had a design on the base. When soft butter was pressed into such a print, the design was imprinted into the block of butter. I loved to look at the "fancy" butter that resulted. (Thing is, before TV and video games, we had to make our own entertainment.) Though it was hard work, making butter was fun!

Why did I tell you that? I told you about butter prints so you can understand how my aunt got her "cow button" from a potter's shed. It went like this:

One day my aunt and uncle decided to stop at a potter's shed. They watched with fascination as the potter deftly shaped his clay. As the piece took shape, my aunt's mind was turning just as surely as the potter's wheel.  Just as fast, too. And her thoughts naturally turned to buttons. "Do you ever make buttons?" she asked the potter. He responded that he didn't. But being the persistent button lover that she was, she asked, "would you?" Well, the potter would, he guessed. He didn't exactly know how to design one.

That was just a minor problem to "Auntie", who found a butter print with a cow carved into the base. She thought that would be a perfect mold for a button. Problem solved! She gave the butter print to the potter and he produced his very first button. Resourceful button hunter, wasn't she!

Comparing Books and Buttons

Our daughter is a book seller, and I am here to tell you that when it comes to pricing books vs pricing buttons, there is no comparison. Most of the time when Valerie lists a book for sale online, what an advantage she has! She just enters the ISBN and up pops a suggested price and a list of prices that other people are currently asking for it. Wouldn't it be nice if buttons had ISBNs? We cannot pick up a button and read a title or find an ISBN printed on it! It is OH, so nice if we recognize it or find it online or in a reference book. But even when we know the name of a button, prices are all over the place.     Let's talk about this Weeber button as an example. When I found it, I looked at it and remembered the realistic tomato that I  sold several years ago. I didn't have a clue back then that it was a Weeber.  In fact, I had never heard the name Weeber associated with buttons. But I remember when I offered that tomato for $8.00 it sold very quickly. Not only that, there were many inquiries, "is it still available?" From the interest it generated,  I knew I had let that tomato go for way too little.

Since confession is good for the soul, I called my aunt and told her I had made a mistake with her tomato button. Her response? "Don't worry about it, dear. I'm happy for them. I always love it when I get a good deal and I love it when somebody else does, too!". (That took some of the pressure off).

So what about the lovely one pictured here? I couldn't find it online or in the Big Book. So I turned to the Buttonbytes folks and they seemed to agree that it is a Weeber -- the leaves were the best evidence for them, they said. "Great", I thought! Then I got an email, "If you are planning on selling that Weeber, I would like to have it." I thought I'd like to have it, too. But that is the case with SO many of my Aunt's buttons and I simply cannot afford everything I like. So I decided to sell it to the inquirer.

The quandry was "what do I charge?" I'm told the fair price is what the market will bear. But where do you start when you don't even see another one like it? In this case, the buyer and I settled on $30.00 and I am still not sure if the "Price Is Right". The buyer is happy, though, and so am I (just as my Aunt would want).  

The Saga of The Big Dog

Opening a fresh package of buttons from my aunt was always exciting. "What did she send this time?", I would wonder.  She had so many beautiful and interesting buttons, but this huge brass piece is one I shall never forget.

I thought he was the king of all buttons. There he was, ruling over a whole tray of "dog buttons". He was spectacular! I scanned him and put him up to auction online for an opening bid of $9.99 and the response was astounding. Every day I'd make a long distance call to my aunt and tell her, "The bid is $200 "  then bit by bit it climbed to $500 . . . and finally it was almost $950.00. My aunt was incredulous but so pleased because she really needed the money.  Me? I was in total shock at that huge bid.

There were only a few hours left on that auction and the button was heading pell mell to $1000, when "you've got mail" sounded from my pc.  It was from a very well respected member of the button world and she asked me, "are you SURE that was originally a button? Is there any chance it could be part of a clasp?"

This was back in the late 1990s, when I started selling buttons for Auntie. It had never entered my head that something with a shank might not REALLY be a button.  I shot an email back and simply asked, "how can I tell?"  She wrote back with some criteria and asked to see a picture of the back. The final verdict? It was almost certain that this was part of a clasp from a dust cloak. Beautiful indeed, but probably not a button. I never saw $1,000 crumble into dust and fall at my feet before. But it did that day, and quickly. I hated to call my aunt and tell her the sorry news. But I did. She took it in stride. And I ended the Big Dog auction.

At that juncture, another email came flying to me from the person holding that high bid, "Why did you take that off auction? I wanted it!" In the end, the buyer didn't care if it was a button or a clasp, so the dog went back on the auction block with a disclaimer.

Final sale price? $750! Button or not, he was beautiful -- a lab in high relief, beautiful handkerchief corners, and a very suspicious back. But somebody wanted him, anyway. Heart-warming, isn't it?

Rare Realistic Button

Sorting my aunt's buttons is a real adventure for me, since in most ways I am learning about buttons as I go. When I first found this one, my initial reaction was not to show him in public because he is from a very sad chapter in our history. Ultimately, though, we have to realize that history is history.  From the first settlements that led to this Union, there is so much to make us proud. But we have, also, things in our past that we would rather forget. Of course, that is true of all of us individually -- not just government, but you and me, too!  With that line of thinking, I began to look at him for his historical relevance.  As I pondered over this button, I decided at first to investigate him, find a fair price, and buy him from my cousins to keep in my own, little collection. But as I began to look into this button, I couldn't find one like it anywhere. So I asked the Button Bytes members and found that I cannot afford to keep him. It turns out, so far, that nobody has ever seen this little realistic celluloid button and cannot remember it in any book or bulletin. One individual has this one made from glass, but not the celluloid. The initial reaction from those who know more about buttons than I is that he is very rare. It is estimated that he is probably from the 1930s or early 1940s when Minstrel Shows were popular. So here you are! If you have never seen this one before -- now you have. I wonder where my aunt found him and how much she paid for him. This one had no labels or notes with him. So he's pretty much a mystery. When I found him, he was just there smiling up at me. And I smiled back because my first impression of him was that he is special.

Truth Claims

When you were a child did anyone ever say something like this to you: "Just because you read something or see it on TV doesn't mean it is true."

Sometimes I wish I could believe something that I see or hear, but it is just too questionable. This card of buttons represents one of those times. Just about all I can say for sure is that this group of buttons is interesting!

Just this winter I found this card of buttons in a box that I had bought from my aunt several years ago. She had sold a large portion of her button collection to dealers who traveled here to Maine for that very purpose. I bought what was left for a lump sum that was less than I offered and more than she asked.

This is one of the times I WISH I could believe everything that I read. On this card of buttons is a note that is unsigned and undated (but not in my aunt's handwriting). It says, "These buttons are from the estate of Sarah Roosevelt, Mother of late President Franklin D. Roosevelt". It is, in my mind, unverifiable anecdotal evidence. I cannot know if it is true or not.

The whole idea of truth is a lot bigger than a card of buttons. But this experience has served as a reminder that truth isn't relative and that knowing and acting on the truth is liberating. "You shall know the truth and the truth shall set you free."  (Words of Jesus from the Gospel of John)

Lesson From a Broken Button

When I found this beautiful Puss in Boots button in a glass jar filled with various buttons, I just KNEW I had found what my aunt called "a good one".  Without looking him up, I knew he had to be Puss in Boots. Remember that old story from when you were young? I do. Imagine my dismay, though,  when I turned the button over and saw that the shank was missing! This is not the button it used to be. That disappointment was compounded when a search of the Big Book of Buttons identified this one as scarce and that it sold for around $75 back in the early 1990s. My thought was that this button is too special to be less than what it was meant to be. I'd like to buy him from my cousin and have him repaired someday. Then I'll love him just as if he was never damaged.   Just having that thought made me take a little inventory of my life. I'm not all I was meant to be, either. But I thoroughly believe that in spite of my flaws, there is a plan for me.  I want to BE that person!

88 And Falling in Love With Buttons After All

My mother saw her mother and sister actively involved in "all things button" ever since the late 1940s or early 1950s. Mom thought many of them were pretty, but never had an interest in collections of any kind. Well, things changed this winter while she was at our house! Watching me sort, card, list, and sell her sister's buttons made a profound impact on her life. She would look through buttons as I worked, find something of interest and ask me about it: "Look at this!" or "What do you think of that one?" I could see that she was finding it more and more difficult to see her sister's buttons go. I think the newly found love was growing out of grief. Holding the buttons in her hand was comforting, in a way. Ultimately, Mom made her first tray of buttons around her 88th birthday. The tray is pictured here with each button representing something about family. Some of her buttons are from my collection, some were her sister's, and a few were her mother's.  Now they are hers, and she is writing a story about them. My mother is a remarkable woman in many ways and one of the things I admire most about her is that she hasn't allowed advancing age to keep her from discovering new joys in life. I wonder if anyone else has started a collection at her age?

Buttons 101 -- that is what I call the instruction received at my aunt's kitchen table. This was a hands-on session to learn something about describing buttons and the features that are significant to collectors. It was quite an overwhelming experience. On the table was an array of buttons and my aunt presided over them. Tenderly she picked up buttons and described them, introducing me to the jargon that I needed to know in order to describe them to potential buyers. Yes, I was in training to set out on a pioneering expedition to see if we could market some of her buttons online. I was in uncharted territory, for my knowledge base about buttons consisted of "pretty", "cute", "beautiful", "plain", and "ugly". I suppose you could add "big" and "little" to that list. At the end of the day, I took my notes, a few buttons and set out on my expedition. But before I left, she said, "I would like you to pick out a button for yourself" (she had already given me several). Well, I picked out the one pictured here, and she was aghast. She told me this was a silver button and probably the most expensive at the table. "Leave it to me," I thought. "My eyes are always bigger than my purse." I chuckled and picked out a beautiful, lustered black glass and left very happy. And guess what! A few days later, this beautiful button arrived in the mail with a note telling me she wanted me to have it. I cried! So this button is a symbol now of a special bond that grew while we "buttoned" together.

More Lois Calkins Flower Buttons

Here is the second group of buttons from the set of twelve that I spoke about in my last post. I hope this helps you recognize them when found. They really are even more lovely "in person".

Lois Calkins Flowers of the Month

One day I was browsing through some of Auntie's button cards and found one with twelve different ceramic buttons, each one with a different flower. "Hmmmm, what are these?" was my immediate thought. But I set them aside, only to return to them several months later. At that point I saw that she had written the name and address of Lois Calkins on the back of the card and dated it October 7, 1970.

This sent me on a quest to find out what I could. The Big Book of Buttons is generally my first resource, but I found no information there. There was nothing on the web. People from the Buttonbytes online group responded to my query with some nice information, but NONE of them had seen a complete set of the twelve buttons, which I've learned represent the Flowers of the Months.

The first six from this set of buttons is pictured here for general interest, since so many people have told me they have never seen the set in its entirety. (See my next post for the other six)

Aunties Buttons

This is a picture of my mom and my aunt (on the right) taken in 2008. They both developed a passion for all things beautiful, but my aunt had a particular place in her heart for buttons. Wherever she went across the United States and Canada, she was "on the hunt" for more little treasures to add to her collection. She frequented flea markets, yard sales, antique shops, and even asked artisans displaying their wares, "do you make buttons?"

Some of her stories are in my head. Some are found in hints and labels on the backs of her carded buttons. Others are written here and there in note pads. But her wealth of knowledge and experience are mostly no longer available to us since she died of pancreatic cancer almost a year ago.

I call her little treasures "Auntie's Buttons" out of love for her. The stories I share here are in her honor.