Imagine all the fortune and misfortune tucked away in drawers. ~JRC
The drawer - a box that slides in and out of another box. At first thought, there's not much to think about when it comes to drawers. But there's more to them than simply the ol' in and out. These uncomplicated devices contain, protect, and even hide the contents of our lives. Beyond a sliding box, a drawer is a thing of beauty. And an extension of ourselves.
Drawers are everywhere. Here in my workshop, I can see 283 of them (yes, I just counted). Granted, my shop is a bit drawer-intense. My kitchen, a more typical example of drawer-dom, has 25. This tally includes a rather ingenious one: the pull-out freezer at the bottom of my fridge. And my bathroom has eight drawers (since I'm still counting).
Look around right now. Chances are, drawers surround you too.
Building a drawer is easy. You can make one out of a shoebox by sliding it into a closet cubby. The purpose of a drawer, no matter how simple, is to organize and stow away whatever is inside.
Drawers, of course, can be far more elaborate. Ornate chests are common in fancy homes, for example. Expert cabinetmakers spend their careers perfecting these. Intricate dovetail joints, sculpted fronts, and expertly aligned slides make such drawers true works of art.
What's in all these drawers?
An easier question is, “what's not?” For me and most others, the only things not in drawers are those objects that don't fit. And anything else not on overt display is customarily in a drawer.
We use drawers to compartmentalize our stuff.
In my kitchen, there's a silverware drawer. And another for plates and bowls. I also have the ubiquitous "junk drawer." Here goes all the miscellany that doesn't harmonize in a more organized compartment.
And so it goes.
In my shop, I have dozens of drawers with screws and one large one for screwdrivers. And two drawers for hammers. Plus another with small saws and knives. In my bathroom, there's a drawer with nothing but first-aid. This drawer is incidentally one of the first I go to after working in my shop.
I think one of the most incredible places for drawers is a museum. Not the exhibits out front, mind you. But the behind-the-scenes museum where all the countless specimens are stored.
There are drawers filled with pinecones in museums called herbaria. And microscopic diatoms too. Drawers and drawers of taxidermied animals are stuffed away in zoological departments. And drawers packed with human artifacts are cataloged in collections of archaeology.
From ancient fossils to moon rocks, museums contain bits and pieces of almost everything tangible we know about reality.
Drawers serve a primal function in our lives. In them, we tuck away all that is to be human. We hide our lives in drawers and to peek into someone else’s can be a serious breach of confidence.
I've always wondered why "the closet" is a metaphor for concealing things. Skeletons, latent sexuality - hidden in the closet? Why? A closet is easy to peek into. They're almost inviting. With one swing of the door, all is revealed within a closet.
But a drawer! These are where the real secrets reside. In a drawer, they are safe. Concealed until we decide to share, if ever.
An old love letter. A ring we no longer wear. Perhaps a derringer we’ve never used. Such things we keep not on display, nor in a closet, but in a drawer. Here these objects remain, preserved with all the other vital remembrances we possess.
Without drawers, mayhem would reign.
Stuff scattered everywhere. Big piles with no discernable means to find anything. But with drawers, we have the means to maintain. They are a way to contain our very selves.
Through drawers, we tame the beast of chaos.
Drawers then, above all else, are a system. They create order in a world that is anything but ordered. Drawers help us remember where the stuff we keep is kept. And they even aid us in remembering the memories we wish to remember.
Yes, drawers save not only our stuff. They save us.
Until next time.
JRC