I was an art student at the University of Utah. My professor was Paul Davis, probably one of the top ten painters in the United States. In one of his classes he asked us to go home and do a quick still life of something on four different nights. The next day we would prop them up against the wall for a critique. Most of the class painted flowers or scenes of their kitchen windows. I just did tools. On the last day he asked me if my wife locked me in the garage or something. That’s the story of these tools. Kind of a guy thing, don’t you think?