tools are everything.
tools make tools.
yesterday i got the greatest christmas gift a cat like me could get. tools.
not the “i’m-a-he-man-can-cut-wood-build-an-ark-power” type tools. artist tools.
the thing about an artist tools is that they are special. very unique… like fingerprints or dna; both start out the same, are built with the same raw materials… but through use (how much and how hard) and just time, they develop their own unique appearance and personality.
looking at another artist’s tools, holding them in your hand is almost more descriptive than an interview or a photograph. you have a moment— especially when you know that artist will never do anything with those tools again. in all likelihood, those instruments were with the artist more than any other person—spent more time with him/her, were more intimate with him/her— intimate on a plane that no other separate human could be. they can love you or they can hate you.
the tools you use hear your thoughts. they allow you to move forward and can send back packing your bags. a new expensive tool is no substitute for an experienced mind—it’s those old, work out, off the rack ones that move me… that give a level of comfort no easy chair or tight, warm embrace can do.
tools are cool.