![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtsf6MeVB_zRT36mLfOOmeMHJNQCluUaTu_Yw0Sc4S8oNe94825aT-7pSROrBdXo06LLkyQnrNRU7aF883DyiX_q7kc_yK1YzAI_Q0wERS0S93XfWudlLmKS3NpmmZv2yNkiUsaeDAb9c/s400/jobcase1.jpg)
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE71pfm2MPbqELUQx9CU90gqkugCkJNhbkqw8EzuBB7PAcnOXONYrMPL15sg8enDdUV36kNbtvwfzqE6S8RqojPYNOw_LxN0yDEgxyFkMt5k8ghPSNllE_SnMdOvWHEJCeQ4xRo6YFtRU/s400/jobcase.jpg)
When I was in college, my Dad gave me the job case in those photos above. In you're not sure what that is, it's a drawer that typesetters use to store and sort various fonts of movable metal type used in letterpress printing. Each of those compartments would hold different letters of the alphabet. When I was a graphic design student, I found that a job case was more functional than beautiful, but when I hung this one on the wall and started to fill it with the tidal treasures I'd gathered, it took on a life of its own.
It hangs in my living room today and also serves as a memoir, of sorts. Each item connects me to a particular place and time and to all the shores I've combed.
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