A glass bottle, round base tapering to a small neck, 3” something tall, perfectly tiny, with a 1” label declaring it is Guinness Extra Stout, and topped with an obscenely perfect bottle cap. Through the dark glass, you can see that it’s still full with a dark liquid, presumably real Guinness.
A dried starfish, roughly the size of my hand, 8 in across. Five arms, one with the tip broken off, after drying. A yellow ocher/ golden tan color with tiny round pimple-like spots, or papulae, in a light sandy color that make a pattern: a star in the center radiating out into a line down each arm. The surface is rough to the touch. The underside has a channel down each arm, leading to the hole in the center that is the mouth. The material in these channels is delicate, fringe like, and a darker ocher color, a residue of the tube feet.
Description
Inkwell 1.5” w x 2” h, most likely stoneware, salt or wood fired to create a glossy glaze across most of the surface, except for the base and one side where the clay is bare, likely due to being placed close to another piece in the kiln. Warm brown/tan with brassy tones where glazed, bare clay is a cold gray. It was thrown individually on a wheel, a stout body and narrow neck. A fingerprint is pressed into one side near the base, and striations on the base show where it was cut from the wheel.
This post is a little different than others. During the deep dark depths of quarantine, I spent some time going through my own collections and creating a Cabinet of Curiosity.
I love things. I love the aesthetic experience of things. The weight in your hands and the physicality of an object, the tactile feel against fingertips, the color, the shape, the smell and even the sound. I love things that make you pause and appreciate the materiality of living.
Between Fiction and Fact 