SYSTEMS OF FILING
Rex Burress
Since I am writing in early spring, to speak of filing would suggest “F.I.T.” [Federal Income Tax] to most people, yet filing, or storing the assemblage of papers and particulars that we of the 21st Century accumulate, is often a major operation.
Practically any hobby or craft-making venture carries with it written and pictorial information that is put aside for future reference, especially in the realms of writing, art, and nature interpretation.
As I sit in my computerized word-processing cove, I am surrounded by paper, as well as CD disks and reference books, in addition to the information stored on the internet. Notes are the end-result of research, and there is a pile of used data under my monitor awaiting transference to the “boxes of note scraps.” There is potential in those words on paper that might revive a whole new line of thought someday, just as there is potential in magazine articles and pictures. Everything starts with a thought.
Every artist has some kind of clipping and resource “morgue” filing system. The creative aspirations of a wildlife artist or writer needs those notes to accurately comment on their subjects. In writing non-fiction, especially about nature, truth is sacred, and there is a need to verify the facts.
Above my computer on the shelf is a row of books I affectionately turn to time and time again. “The Sense of Wonder,” by Rachel Carson. “Wildlife Fact Finder,” and “Secrets of Wildflowers.” “Prehistoric Life.” A dictionary and a thesaurus. On the left are my guide books on mushrooms, insects, birds, mammals, plants, minerals—long-used and well worn. The left side also featres my “quotation file” with John Muir-to-Carson data. There is a stack of published and unpublished hard-copy articles that threaten to engulf me! Well, you don't just ditch it all, although fastidious lady housekeepers might be inclined to clean it up! “Dust, clutter, hoard,” are terms that might apply to a creative corner! Art and articles arise from chaos. From note lines, layouts, and paint messes comes beauty.
When I was approached to paint a mural for the Pioneer Museum's Maidu exhibit, I gathered data and made sketches—and gave a presentation about my painting idea before the City Council for approval. Prominent was the lead drawing, developed from a ton of notes and research, including going up on Table Mountain to sketch the Sutter Buttes. Take a look at the 15 by18-foot finished mural that includes 13 famous Indian faces, led by Ishi, floating faintly in the sky together with an eagle.
I have not mentioned my bulging filing cabinet in my upstairs studio. Know that in those old wooden files are pictorial and printed sheets plenty tattered by time but readable and useful, available to any future artist or writer with a mind to find inspiration from publication scraps.
But the viewing public, as in visitors at the Feather River Nature Center, who aren't all artists with a mind to research, are generally inclined to just look at displays without being burdened with books or bulletins. Some may have an eye for a clean house, too. Thus I should not have been concerned when the good, hard-working docent ladies dismantled the information rack and threw out the surplus magazines from cramped spaces in order to show order!
Still, the name of the game is information and its potential. Old habits might be called restrictive and I yield in the name of unity, but not in the principle of environmental education and the circulation of information! The thrust of interpretation is presentation of information.
When new supervisor Flo came on to direct Oakland's Nature Center in the 1970's when I worked there, she was driven to re-organize and clean things up, perhaps to make an impression. First the filing cabinets were stripped of historical documents—priceless to researchers—even if tattered, and then it was the library. “All of those old musty books!” I mentioned it to the retired naturalist and former supervisor Paul, and he was shocked. “Some of those books of Bugs Cain are out of print and valuable,” he exclaimed. Soon, Paul had organized a “Friends of the Library,” who effectively righted the ship! “Sail on, and on!”
“Nature and Books belong to the eyes that see them.” --Ralph Waldo Emerson