What is this tool?

Why do I have it? Where did it come from? Have I ever used it before?
All very good questions. The answer: I don’t know. My guess is some
kind of scrapbooking tweezers since it says making memories on the
side of it. (Which you would be able to read if my iPhone had the
ability to focus!)

I receive a lot of grief for having this collection of things, which
now lives in my studio, but never using them. I have heard several
times why don’t you just get rid of them. First of all, I hate
throwing things away. It kills me to put anything useful in the trash.
And I do periodically purge and create little give away piles.

Second, you never know when a tool might come in handy. Even if you
have no idea how to use it! I’ve been guilty of buying a few tools at
Michael’s just because they looked intriguing. A few years later I
have taught people how to use them in my classes at Paper Source, so
my gut was on to something.

I do know that yesterday these tweasers were a complete God-send as I
began weaving the strips of written text into my tobacco project. I
think that I had tried to use these mystery tweezers once before and
couldn’t intuitively grasp them. I know that sounds crazy, but they
weren’t working for me.

But yesterday, they were perfect. I had dreaded adding the text to my
piece, because I was certain that the tobacco would flake and crumble
as my clumsy fingers tried to weave the text. Once I thought of these,
I was able to easily weave the three pages worth of strips. I could
stick the tweezers up through the light, inside the loops of the
tobacco and down through the hardware cloth. So much easier than I

And I loved the feeling that I was actually suttering up my scar. I
felt somewhat like a surgeon, minus the blood. At least three of the
six pages of were my recollection of cutting my hand on my
grandmother’s front porch, which is were this piece gets its shape.

Granted I still spent at least four hours doing this, but it wasn’t
stressful in the least. Well, not until I had heard "Here Comes Santa
Claus" for the ninteenth time of the day. That’s when I decided to
call it a day.

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