Just like the Fullerbrush man
You can tell I’m old because I can still remember the Fullerbrush man. He used to come door to door carrying a small suitcase filled with brushes and dusters. In those days, there were lots of salesmen who came to your door on a regular basis. My mother was extremely frugal and I can only rember her buying small brushes to scrub vegetables. The brushes were made of natural fibers or animal hair…a good hairbrush would be made of boar bristle. Now everything is plastic.
I gave this photo a vintage look. I think it adds a mystique to it. I came across this woman as I was walking down a small street somewhere in Thailand. I took a few shots of her where she was standing…she was helpful and stopped so I could get the shot. Then I asked her to move in front of this doorway for a better background. Still I had to crop it a bit.
Look at the delicate way she holds her stick. Her hands are working hands, hands that have done the task other hands have pointed to. She is small, but strong. It is amazing that such small people have the strength of a pony.
I like her expression. She seems kind, doesn’t she? Well, she was. She gave me time to get my photo. I like to show someone going about a task which is unique to that area. I was chuffed as they say in England. That means happy, I think.