I found an old pocket balance in an antique shop. I was drawn to its pleasing shape, size and weight. I liked its rivets, the scratched and discoloured brass surface with its Victorian seriffed type. It spoke of enduring solidity and certainty.
The balance is such a small mundane object but it has a past life with a history. It may have been a treasured possession or barely noticed by its owner.
Structure and harmony give space for contemplation. Dents and scratches on a much polished metal surface, the careful spidery, copperplate of an old letter, the well-thumbed edges of an old book; these all give a window into other lives and worlds.
And then, I see myself and my world, upside down and distorted in the bowl of an old silver spoon.