Tick Tock

This is a pretty unusual piece. My 15-year-old daughter hates it. My 19-year-old daughter thinks it’s cool. It was fun to make! I took apart an old broken clock… well, I don’t think you can even call it a clock; it was the guts of a clock that was my uncle’s. He’s now in a nursing home and rambles about the Canadian Government (we live in the USA) and the nurses that work for the CIA. He seems happy in his world of secrecy and espionage… he gave me permission to take his clock before his stroke.

When I was pulling apart the old clock, trying to get all of the gears out, and looking for interesting parts I could use in my art, there was an old spring wound up tight. My mom was sitting there looking on. She said, “be careful that doesn’t spring and hit you.” It wasn’t two minutes later and that thing made a shrill “shriinggg” sound and sprung! It didn’t hit me, in fact it didn’t come all the way unsprung (if that’s a word), but it threw dust everywhere! The old clock was dusty, greasy, and covered with many year’s worth of time keeping collected in all its parts. A good soaking in WD40 cleaned everything up nicely.

I have two more clocks – one that was still ticking when my cousins brought it down from my uncle’s room even after he’s been in the nursing home for over a year – and another that is broken. I plan to use the parts for more jewelry, mosaics, and other artwork. I don’t know why my uncle had all of those clocks. My mom says my grandfather would be happy I’m using them. He used to repair clocks. I never met my grandfather, but I’ve always had a fascination for clocks and clock parts… I wonder if it’s genetic?