One of my favorite possessions is my collection of “scum towels.” It’s a towel that's no longer fit to serve as a dish or bath towel, and has now moved on to the floor, outdoor, and car arenas.  I have a hierarchy of scum towels, and will be very upset if either of my two vintage, avocado green towels gets used for, say, grease or bleach. I have known these towels since the 1970s, when they covered the green velveteen chairs in my grandma Frieda’s living room in the house where I grew up. I was at least 18 before I realized that the towels were not an annoying design of the chair, and that my grandma bought them separately for protection. Every time you got up from sitting on the green chairs, you had to put the towels back in order: one on the back, one on the seat. The sofas had sheets on them. They were rarely removed, not even when the LDS Relief Society ladies paid a visit, or some German relatives were in town. Just as the avocado green bath towels became my grandma's chair towels, then have lived for decades as high class scum towels with me, the transmutation continues with the scum towel cast in bronze. It reminds me of a topographic map. For so many women. the back of a cleaning towel is as much topography as they will get to experience.

I think it works on the floor as a doorstop, or as a tabletop sculpture which you can handle to make some of the peaks shinier… like a lucky nose on a bronze outdoor sculpture in Europe, or the worn elements of a brass door handle. It’s developed a great patina, but could be polished to make super shiny. I made this almost 10 years ago and kinda forgot about it until I washed and folded a load of scum towels and gloves today.

12" x 9.5"

6 lbs

Signed and numbered 1/1