The Intangible Key by Chipka
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Description
It doesn’t surprise me that there comes a time in existence when a thing becomes useless. Obsolete. Unimportant. It surprises me that such a thing can be a door of all things. Since my life in Prague, I have become very aware of doors: not as objects, however, but as something else; doors as the physical manifestations of thresholds (or the promise of a threshold.) Doors, for me, are markers; not of territorial boundaries or implements of safety, but of thresholds--transitional spaces.
Last summer, during one of the rare spates of warmth we experienced in Chicago, I went to work with my father and other movers (Improbably named, “Blue” and “Lap.” These are nicknames, of course, and I have yet to learn their given names, though I suspect that Lap’s nickname is little more than his initials. I saw them tattooed on his arm.) We were hired to clear out a dental office, its basement and the space upstairs. Unsurprisingly, there were old dental chairs, old x-ray machines, old pieces of medical equipment of inscrutable pedigree, and a ton of books. Surprisingly, there was an old door in the basement. There were two doors, actually. One was simply heavy and featureless. The other carried a strange, reddish hue, blackened, grayed and dusted here and there by a strange corrosion, almost fungal. By its weight, I judged the door to be Oak. By its color, I judged it to be water damaged, and likely some wood I could never think to name. It was heavy. It was dirty. It was rich in details, and yes…there was evidence of woodlice. Basement dwellers, like primordial troglodytes. There were spider webs, and in those webs were the desiccated corpses of creatures I love. Most intriguingly, however, was the door knob. The key had been rusted into place, the metal plating around the key hole and knob was pitted and corroded and alive with an intriguing array of colors. Rot, though ultimately cruel in its appetite, was kind in its creation of beauty.
I carry my camera with me. Everywhere. I keep it in various pockets and glove compartments, when necessary, and so, as we unloaded the trucks we’d filled with rubbish, I took note of the door and hauled it to a spot in the truck yard. The key had somehow lodged from its place. The doorknob, keyhole plate, and hinges were metal. Brass, perhaps. They were valuable enough to justify a salvage. But before they were removed from warped and rotting wood, and thrown in a bucket containing other pieces of salvage metal, I took pictures. This is one. My favorite. In small ways, this image reminds me of Prague, and I like to think of it as the image of a threshold…a potential threshold that can only be unlocked and opened by an intangible key.
This image and the now vanished door are both markers of a threshold I have yet to cross. I don't know what or where this threshold lies, but in time I will learn of it.
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As always, thank you for viewing and reading, and commenting; it always means a lot.
Comments (18)
Hubba1
For sure an old piece and makes me wonder? Part of an old house maybe? How many and who has been through this door? Only if the wood could talk :) Awesome shot!
blondeblurr
I like to think of it, as if you have unearthed a very antique treasure, a beautiful ornamental-looking door and lock, which goes together like a horse and carriage, or love and marriage, according to Professor Higgins... not to forget the woodlice :) A door like any other, are always of greater joy, if one can find the right key to open and never loose it. end of my wisdom for my start of Monday morning... BB
MrsRatbag
A beautiful find, and a fantastic image!
geirla
Thanks for the image and the thoughts to ponder...
Sea_Dog
Excellent image. Great detail in this door and hardware. It has that old, substantial feeling that doors don't have anymore. Great work.
auntietk
I hope that piece finds new life elsewhere, that some other artist finds pleasure in it and feels the need to incorporate it into something beautiful or thought provoking or just damned odd. ..... The topic of time zones came up today, and I wondered what time zone one is in if one is standing at the EXACT North Pole? (Or South Pole ... either is okay by me.) And if you're standing there, how fast does time fly? I decided this might be a question for you, my friend. :D
Madbat
I seem to recall reading about Janus as a god of doors, and thus of thresholds, and one can include time in there as well I suppose, since every threshold is a fulcrum, or tipping point between what was and what will be. Oiks..I better check what's in my coffee!
kgb224
Outstanding capture my friend.
helanker
Chip, why not collecting old beautiful mysterious doors, make them nice again, without removing the patina and make an exhibition out of them. What a fun it could be. :-) This is a great shot and your thoughs are faschinating.
flora-crassella
wonderful image!!!! Great shot!!!!
ladyraven23452
great work.
durleybeachbum
It is a beauty! Your pic reminds me of a past interest in doorways and lockplates..I may have to revive it.
Meisiekind
I looked at that the image, then read your narrative and then looked again! What I saw the second time was light on the other side through the keyhole... Light when you cross the threshold! Fantastic piece of art Chip! :)
bmac62
Your excellent photo image and narrated verbal images made me think of several novels I read 3-4 years ago...all of which really pulled me in. Have your read any of the multiple books by Douglas Preston and Lincoln Child? ...Brimstone, Still Life with Crows, The Cabinet of Curiosities, etc. There is decay and various insects (like in the truck yard)...just no space/Sci-Fi. But I think you'd find writing that you'd like.
beachzz
Crossing that threshold will be interesting. It's very much the way I feel these days, as though I'm about to take off in a very different direction. Maybe this is the door I'll go through.
elfin14doaks
Wow that's really old and the copper tells the story. Great shot.
myrrhluz
Wonderful image and narrative! Doorways are such evocative things. From the hardwood ones to the ones of the imagination. One of my favorite children's books was "The Secret Garden" I can remember the thrill as she looked for the door, in the vine overgrown wall, to the garden that she could see was there. Then there are the more fantastical doors. The mirror in "Through the Looking Glass", the portal in the original "Star Trek" that took Spock to an ancient ice bound world, the fireplace in a new "Doctor Who" that took the Doctor to 18th century France. That would be a fun game. To come up with as many fantastical doorways as you could. And there are doorways of the mind, the spirit, the soul. So much to think about. You do seem to have that effect. Excellent work once again!
mininessie
love this shot!