009. That which is not milkable
moments, knick knacks, shiny things
Greetings [:
I know it has been awhile since the last dispatch. I sincerely hope all of you are in a good space. Truly. I don’t know what’s more important than that these days — to be able to slow down, ground, tune in, surrounded by the people and things and places that nourish you.
I took a trip to Vancouver last week to run some errands. Apart from the frenzy of the city and the heavy amount of walking I did, overall it felt great for my body. There was ample time for a leisurely walk in Pacific Spirt National Park, which ended with a full afternoon on Wreck Beach. I’ve swam in a handful of waters this past 2 years, but this was my first salt water and it felt great. This might be my first encounter with the Pacific Ocean. I also had some good ol’ cantonese jok (congee) and milk tea from a hongkong eatery which tasted like home.
The things we keep close by
Of late, I've been mulling on the subject of habits and gestures, and wondering about which ones are natural and which ones came along much later in life. Of the many gestures, I am particularly interested in the way we collect — the ways we amass knick knacks.
You might be a collector yourself or may know a friend or two who collects figurines, or stamps, magnets or nerf guns...idk what do people collect these days? Occasionally, we pick these knick knacks up from on our travels as mementos. For me, I find myself with alot of pebbles, and leaves and lichen things. One of my favourites have to be a yellow gingko leaf I picked up during my time in Japan; it’s still pressed between the pages of a journal somewhere.
I reckon postcards and fridge magnets served that purpose a long time ago. Did they fall out of fashion when we started to be able to take pictures of places for keepsake and posterity with the advent of smartphones? I’m guessing we collect things as we go because a part of us feels pulled to the object that we’re holding in our hands. The weight of a trinket. The way the light falls on it a certain way. There are some textures we are drawn to inexplicably more than others. The washed out look or the vibrancy of certain colors pulls us in ways that are hard to explain. These things have nothing to do with status, and once these objects of affection make it home with us and finds a spot on our shelves and altars, they are on display only to us. It has everything to do with pleasure and memory, and perhaps little to do with ostentation.
Many people cannot refrain from picking up stones of a slightly unusual color or shape and keeping them, …. without knowing why they do. It is as if the stone held a mystery in it that fascinates them. Men have collected stones since the beginning of time and have apparently assumed that certain ones were the containers of the spirit of the life-force with all its mystery.” — Carl Jung, Man and his Symbols.
And here comes the did-you-know moment.
Did you know, other than humans, certain animals also exhibit a similar tendency to collect things? I wonder if what comes to mind for you are our closest animal relatives, the chimps. But no….we’re talking about rodents and birds.
While pouring through Ursula K Le Guin’s writings recently1, I learnt about collectors in the animal kingdom — species that seem to share our tastes for collecting, presumably because they also hold a deep grammar of beauty. Apparently, as Le Guin writes, Charles Darwin was found documenting this peculiar behavior amongst rodents known as bizcachas:
The bizcacha has one very singular habit: namely, dragging every hard object to the mouth of its burrow: around each group of holes many bones of cattle, stones, thistle-stalks, hard lumps of earth, dry dung, etc., are collected into an irregular heap. . . . I was credibly informed that a gentleman, when riding on a dark night, dropped his watch; he returned in the morning, and by searching the neighborhood of every bizcacha hole in the line of road, as he expected, he soon found it.
Darwin also noted a similar behavior in birds:
…the habit of that extraordinary Australian bird the Calodera maculata, which makes an elegant vaulted passage of twigs for playing in, and which collects near the spot, land and sea-shells, bones, and the feathers of birds, especially bright colored ones… — The Voyage of the Beagle, Chapter 7
This behavior is peculiar and utterly fascinating. To understand what charm these objects hold is to plunder the depth of mystery about the notion of beauty. To dismiss it as merely part of a larger repertoire for attracting a sexual mate is a reason I find quite meh and quite blah. And tbh, not as interesting as weighing the possibility that these rodents and birds share our endearment for tiny, shiny objects — a collection of playpretties as Le Guin calls it. To folks who have been interested enough in animals to have witnessed them stowing things away, spotted amongst the stash were bottlecaps, buttons, can-pulls, rings. Well, we all have idiosyncrasies! Do not judge!
Perhaps it is in cultures preoccupied with concepts of usefulness, practicality, knowledge and productivity which might find this accumulation of seemingly “useless” things hard to fathom. For example, It is harder to understand why bibliophiles collect books than the phenomenon of amassing collections to signal taste and personality.
𓃹 Field Report
The berries have descended. We see them on shrubs, and also in the form of purple bird poop on rocks and ledges. We spent some time this week gathering them. What we thought was huckleberry turned out to also be some wild blueberries. J will make pie out of them - he is our resident baker and more capable of following baking recipes to a T, something I am not fond of and cannot do.
The brilliant yellow of Goldenrod on the sides of the roads. They seem to grow in the wildest, harshest crumbly soils and that surprises me and fascinate me at the same time. Apparently they give a brilliant yellow color and have been used as a natural dye for a long time. Now I can see why. They have been showing up for weeks and we’ve finally got around to foraging some. They’re drying now and will likely be put to work come winter in the dye pots (: Yarrow too! Yarrow have been spotted in the same places — similar terrains often spotting dry crumbly soil. They too can be used as a natural dye (imparting a pale yellow) and have been used traditionally as plant medicine for their anti-spasmodic properties.
𖦹 Sharing is caring
As I’ve mentioned above, Robin Sloan’s Fish is something light and thoughtful. While we are on thoughtful things, I love this cool collection of apps.
֍ Mood
That which is not milkable
Some say that decisions and choices in life boils down to two forces — fear and love. On the surface, Decisions may take the same form, but the undercurrent is distinctly different. And that I say that this collecting behaviour that we have is born from a fear of decay, a cope, a grasping in a world that seems to keep running away from us like water slipping through a clenched fist, grasping and desperate. But that does not make us bad people. That does not make us unenlightened. No I do not think so. For Mary Oliver says this quite well, to be of this world, one should be able to do three things
to love what is mortal; to hold it against your bones knowing your own life depends on it; and, when the time comes to let it go, to let it go.
As always, thank you for reading this, it means alot to me to know that there is someone on the receiving end; as much as I write for myself, I also write for you. If you know another kindred soul who may enjoy this, do spread the word. There is much weaving to be done. As usual, I’m all ears — more than happy to hear from you, what you’re up to, and whatever else resonates or keeps you up at night. Till next time!
xx
Essay “Collectors, Rhymesters, and Drummers” from The Wave in The Mind by Ursula K Le Guin
Wonderful read... Thank you :)