Thunderstones (and Other Ridiculous Stories)

Anti-clockwise: beach pebbles, seal tooth, bear claw, "special stone", "Thunderstone".

I'm glad the adults in my childhood were really good at make-believe and story telling, because it makes these fantastic little bits of nature all the more interesting. I'm in the process of movings houses, so I was sorting through some of my collection - a lot of them being unintentionally accumulated over the years. I thought it might be interesting to upload a few of them. 

I don't have much to say about the beach pebbles. As a kid I would spend hours on the beach picking out the prettiest little stones. To be honest, I still can't help myself, but now that I'm older, I feel like I'm more aware of the chilly water and dreary weather (Victoria in the summer is, for the most part, not the sunny of places), so a lot less time is spent picking through the sand. 

My Great Grandmother Kirk was a worldly woman. My family always has some quirky story about her, how creative she was, all the interesting places she traveled. I wish she was still here. Her possible contributions to this blog would've been far better than mine! But even well-traveled individuals spend time mucking about in the sand, much like kid-me did. My Oma tells me what's when she stumbled upon the seal tooth. 

Okay yes, I realise this post's title promises ridiculous stories, and this isn't at all outrageous, so, moving on...

Well, apparently Grandmother Kirk really got around, because, according to family folklore, during one of her many adventures, she met a hunter/poacher (the details pertaining to his exact animal-killing profession are a little foggy). They had an interesting chat, and then, before taking his leave, he gave her a the bear claw. Why? Who knows, but I thank him for it, because now, about thirty years later, I'm in possession of a very cool bear claw. Upon doing some research (some very spotty research, mind you), I've come to the conclusion that it's probably a grizzly claw. I'm taking into account the colouration, the length (it's about the size of my forefinger), and the curve of it. If I'm mistaken, please chime in!

To be honest, the triangle, or "special stone" as dubbed by my mother, is not all that remarkable. It's interesting, of course, how it was chiseled into that shape by the ebbing of water, or the grinding of rock against rock, and yet, it pales in comparison to a seal tooth or a bear claw. My mother managed to make it interesting though. My mother is Muslim, but despite this, she still clings to her Javanese roots. You need to understand that the Javanese have a very rich culture, much of it being very animistic. She told me a story about how the spirits (who are supposedly invisible, I might add), rub at stones when they're worried. The stone that take interesting shapes, are the ones the spirits have rubbed with worry the most. This is the thing I find remarkable; that such old beliefs like this have survived, and still live with us today, especially in people who are otherwise quite modern.

My Aunt gave this to me. We were picnicking at Bright Angel Park on Vancouver Island, perched on the pebbles by the shallow stream that runs just under the suspension bridge. There are literally stones everywhere, but she spies this one from among the hundreds of thousands. She gives it to me and tells me "It's a Thunderstone. It was split in half by lightning. It froze the inside of the rock, and turned it crystal." Well, she's a very intelligent woman, so there's no doubt she made it sounds more sophisticated and scientific than that, but you get the gist of it. I thought this was the coolest thing ever, until I realized several years later that firstly, that is not how geodes are formed, and secondly, lighting would absolutely obliterate a little stone like that. Regardless both the stone and the story stayed with me.

Welcoming Summer

I figured I should welcome Summer by adorning myself with my handmade flower crowns. Although, not a single one of these flowers belongs to this time of the year. In fact, the flower crown at the top is made up of various different blooms and buds from Michael's autumn selection (rejoice, for they were on sale!), while the bottom one is made from Chinese cherry blossoms, which undoubtedly are rather spring timey. (Unfortunately I'm unable to supply some explanation of the second one, as I have an incredibly poor knowledge of flowers.)

With these pretty petals comes a sense of melancholy for this blog writer, as this Summer is brining a lot of change into my life (moving houses, schools, losing friends; nostalgia that threatens to suffocate). But change is important, I suppose. That's what everyone tells me, so I have to believe there's some truth to it.

Sadness aside, these were all very fun to make. All you need is really is some faux flowers (preferably ones that look very un-faux), and a hot glue gun. And of course, some artistic enterprise. I'm keen on making more - three is far from enough - but unfortunately, Indonesia is rather lacking in quality art supplies. I'll have to wait until I visit my hometown, Victoria, in July, where I will gleefully frolic through the aisles of bountiful art supplies.

(p.s. I apologise for the quality of the images. It was rather dark when I took them. Their bright appearance is just the masterful illusion of Photoshop adjustments.)

Follow the Red Thread

Welcome to the very first post of My Little Red Thread!

I don't know why it is I always feel so compelled to write introductions, despite having done hundreds others before, but I never really tire of it.

I've made this blog because I feel the need to have a nifty little nook of my own on the internet to show off some interesting things I've procured, from antiques, childhood relics, artwork (by both myself and other artists), and anything else that I deem worthy of this blog. Not that I feel like it takes that much to earn a place on this site (insert sardonic laugh here). But, I'm confident that as long as I don't let this place acquire a thick layer of cyber dust, things will only get better/more interesting/etc, you get the point. Positivity.

My Little Red Thread is rather an odd name, I suppose. But like everything, there's a story behind it. Actually, in this case, there's an ancient Japanese legend, and a self published school project behind it too. The String of Fate comes from Japanese folklore, in which it is believed that those destined to be together have their pinky fingers tied by a thin red string from birth. I used a similar theme in my novel, How to be Extraordinary, in which a boy and a porcelain doll must escape a labyrinth to escape, well, Death. Their fate is tied to a red string. The more they live their lives, the longer it becomes. Once it's cut, their lives are over.

Essentially, to me, red thread just represents my endeavors, my past, my potential. But I'm only sixteen. That's only a tiny fraction of my life (well, let's hope), so my string is short. Little.

I hope you choose to follow my read thread.

(p.s. It's extremely likely How to be Extraordinary will get its own post, as there's so much rich material there to discuss - mostly about controversial things like religion, the afterlife, and human nature. Exciting stuff.)