The Shape of Things and the Story of Us
A few years ago, my love of music developed into an interest of musical instruments. I began to craft guitar bodies, and I became hyper-focused on the design, the colors, the finishes, and the grain of the wood. I marvel equally at the craft and shape of a guitar and the musical sounds it can produce. As I studied the craft further, I began to see what can hind behind, or within, a singular object.
For instance, here is a story for you: The musician plays the guitar.
Simple enough. It communicates enough information. It’s also familiar story pattern; a musician playing their guitar is a popular image – it paints something active, artistic, meaningful, and even dynamic (even if they play poorly, the story is still of importance).
But what about that object? The thing that is taking all the musician’s thoughts and ideas and skill and transmitting it externally for all of us to experience? Is it of importance?
Another story: The musician plays their worn old faded blue Telecaster with a dirty blonde neck and rusted saddles.
The story deepens.
What led the musician to possess it? Is the guitar special? How special? How does it change how he plays his music?
When the object has descriptors added to it, a new enhanced story emerges. The focus on the object also suggests another story behind it.
We tell stories about ourselves– Human stories. And we attempt to make those stories meaningful. (A core tenant I have in writing this blog is to show that there is a story to everything). A common narrative used is of our relationships with objects– mere things. But in the right circumstances, the right context, these objects are either catalysts for action or become mythicized and made symbols or icons.
Let’s put this thought into practice. Here is a small section of a Telecaster since I used it in the example story and extrapolate some stories:
- The guitar is an older model, or a modern reproduction, of a Tele, so it has a history. Even the blondish, buttery finish of the body speaks of a heritage. The first Teles from the 1950s were this color. What does it represent? How did the era shape it? How did the guitar shape the era? After all, this solid body electric is now an icon of Blues and Rock.
- Imagine the hours of thought and labor that went into the design of this, and the men and women who cut and sanded these curves in a small Fender factory in California.
- Let’s turn back to the musician in the hypothetical story. If he is playing the Tele, what can that say about his character? Teles are simple and practical in design. They are easier to repair or customize. The model is also more synonymous with a brighter, twangy, glassy tone. Those details could offer insight into what the musician wants—even their goals, philosophies, and lifestyles.
The story of us and our things is an old one.
Look often special objects came into play in our folk tales and myths. Everything from weapons to boots could be seen as items of significance or power. This is carried over into our Adventure stories, which still so often circle around significant items, like Jason’s quest for the Golden Fleece. In film, there was the Maltese Falcon or the Ark of the Covenant. Current superheroes, like Captain America and his shield, have objects that are familiar to them and represent them. I’ve been on a bit of a horror film kick lately and plots within the genre are often jump-started by boxes, figures, or artifacts. I have mentioned in another essay that the Dodge Challenger in the movie Vanishing Point is imbued with a psycho-spiritual nature. It’s not a car, it is a white chariot, a symbol of freedom that will allow Kowalski to transcend.
Perhaps that is where the motif of the special object and my study on the story of things meets a crossroads in my mind. Those stories where the object is central to the plot or where a special item was wielded by the hero elevated the story and gave it a lofty or ethereal tone. Comparably, that hype-focus I have on objects of interests—guitars, motorcycles, hats—allowed me to read deeper into all the ideas and histories behind them. And in my mind, they converge to make things meaningful. In practice, try to examine and assess just how we see the things we use; not just for telling good stories but in how regarding our own personal stories. Will they be mere objects or meaningful tools? There is a story there, and a chance to build significance.