Hand made from pre-existing, accumulated family stuff.
My parents and grandparents, aunts and uncles used the keys for a safe, an AA box on the motorway, a front door, a car, a kitchen window, an old jewellery box, a big silver till, a bureau.
The sundial reminds me that the earth turns, and I forget. Night and Day, the Sun, the Moon, weeks, months, seasons. They turn; I forget.
Family keys and restrung glass drops throw light on the sundial made in my aunt’s discarded Victorian sewing box, using bone fish counters from Georgian parlour games, a bone eidelweiss, a compass which came free with petrol, an un-used paintbrush and Chinese gold papers for burning for the ancestors.
A small spider now works everyday, day after day, building her web in the warmth above the source of the light.