It’s all about the twiddle
When the city of Anoka told ACHS about its plans to redevelop our block, it literally felt like the ton of bricks comprising that building crashed down on our heads.
We sat there for a bit. Our ears rung from the noise. Our bodies hurt from the impact. Our mouths felt dusty and we sneezed. We noticed some scratches, a couple dings, felt a bit dazed.
With a little time sitting there, we each picked up a brick or two and moved it to one side. The dust settled out of the air. Someone brought water to drink. We stood up. We felt sore.
But the mess had been made and perhaps, like naive kids with a set of tinker toys, the ACHS board and staff started to stack bricks together again.
You know the story from there: research on locations, budgets, and financing to get us into Ticknor Hill. Here’s the thing: every step of the way has been a twist. A twiddle, if you will. An innovation. A new way of thinking, a mixing and merging of systems and ideas.
A Historical Society in distinct thirds? (Research/engagement; storage/collection; exhibit/programs)
A bed and breakfast with a research library?
A community-based artifact to be used rather than converted to a museum?
And so it’s been. Twisting all the ideas together. Twiddling them, even, if you will. That seems to be the words falling off my tongue easily. But just mixing things up. Taking the great parts of ACHS and leaving space for whatever comes next. This feels both exciting and unsettling, thrilling and terrifying.
The physical manifestation of this is the workspace pictured here. Most often to be used at my office as executive director (I pull rank once in awhile) we also envisioned it to be an oral history recording space, laptop workstation, or meeting room. I had seen the two chairs in front of the fireplace with a desk against the wall, the papers and staplers all stored in the bookcase. It felt uninviting, the desks all seemed the wrong size. Hutches were twice as overwhelming. The desk in the middle of the room felt very confrontational. A little portable desk looked ridiculous. No chairs killed the ambiance.
This?
This is perfect. It’s hard to see in the picture, but on the far side of the table (not a desk!) is a ball to sit on with easy access to said papers and staplers. The chair is a welcoming low profile. The wingbacks are in their own world with no desk to crowd them.
And zoom in on the table leg.
It has twiddly legs!!! What a perfect reminder that the journey is never straight and yet, somehow it always gets the job done.
