I could have just walked past the old nuts and bolts spread all over the dining room table, a scattered pile of a man on a mission to find the perfect sized nut to fix a tiny broken ukelele for a distraught two year old. But I didn’t. There was something intriguing about the well worn shapes, the antiqued and faded patinas, the odd and random sizes of collected “just in case” precious metal bits and pieces. They drew me in, I found myself wanting to touch them, wonder about them, (where did they all come from, over the years?) and finally to photograph them.