I’ve come to realize that the best way to travel these days, is through my travel memories. In many cases, those memories take the form of photographs that get stored in albums and tucked away on a shelf. But some of my favorite travel memories are in the form of the things I collected along the way. Due to recent world events, accessing those travel memories is as easy as walking around the house.
Maya Angelou wrote, “Every storm runs out of water eventually”.
The world is waiting for the storm to pass. While I wait, as everyone seems to be pointing out, through every news outlet, television show, YouTube video, and Instagram post, I can look at this as a chance to reset, slow down, and pay attention to things I hadn’t been paying attention to before. Was I not paying attention? I can’t remember.
These days, my mornings involve meditation—about 10-15 minutes, in my favorite chair. I like Unplug, and especially love the voice and cadence of Lauren Eckstrom. She is my new very important person. So is John Krasinski. I am all about good news. Even if it is just ‘some’ good news.
I had been a part-time meditator. I wasn’t very motivated and had a bad habit of running through my to-do list while wondering what to make for dinner, and simultaneously petting my pups. This, from what I understand about meditation, is highly frowned upon. I’ve gotten better at keeping my mind on track since my to-do list has shrunk exponentially. My appetite, on the other hand, is not shrinking.
Finding Space
I like the space in my house where I sit. It’s bright, even on rainy days, and has big windows looking onto green grass, a burnt red Japanese maple, and an open sky. I can also hear birdsong, more now because the DC Shuttle isn’t flying over my head every 3.4 minutes. Small things.
On the way to and from that comfy corner of my house, I pass through my living room. The room where we used to have friends over for drinks. The room where we now watch Netflix for hours on end. It is also the room that houses the things we collect.
Small collections of big things.
Big collections of small things.
Shells, matchbooks, Lonely Planet guidebooks, pottery, Japanese kokeshi dolls, biographies, and found objects—to name a few of the things we’ve amassed over the years. I even have a sun-bleached goat’s jawbone that my kids and father-in-law found while hiking a barren hilltop in Turkey. That sounds made up, and gross. It’s neither, I promise.
I’ve spent a lot more time focusing on these collections recently. Not just a ‘Wow, that’s a pretty shell I found when I was in Maine’, kind of focus. More like, ‘remembering the stories that are attached to them’, kind of focus. The family travels that brought them from there, to here.
Starting out
Twenty years ago, when my husband and I started traveling together, we’d pick up a memento from our trip. Some people collect shot glasses, postcards, or, like my old boss from NYC, beach sand. Others collect art, magnets, keychains, or t-shirts. For whatever reason, we always sought out a piece of pottery. That it was made in the country we were visiting was the only requirement. (Although we did break that rule, for a very good reason. Twice.)
Sometimes we disagreed, and one of us had to concede. Usually, ummm, always, Daniel. It was fun to display them around our little NYC apartment when we got home.
When we moved to Tokyo ten years later and unpacked our boxes, we discovered that all of the pieces we had been collecting were in the form of small bowls. It surprised me how consistent we were in our taste over the years. (I’m assuming that no one who knows me is going to find that at all surprising.)
At last count, we had 26 bowls from around the world. I have been looking at these bowls a lot lately, usually after I’ve finished meditating. How often have I walked past them without a thought? Forgetting how they got here, to this house, from Iceland, Bhutan, Colombia, Montenegro, and so on. Decades of stories and memories sitting in front of me. I took out my notebook and started to write. Free time can hold so much power.
Find the Memories Hiding In Your Travel Collections
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Zizi and Andile
In 2017, we took our kids to South Africa. We spent a week in glorious Cape Town, exploring neighborhoods, beaches, wineries, and museums. One night, we stumbled into an area called The Old Biscuit Mill. Located in the Woodstock neighborhood, it is a converted mill that now houses hip restaurants, artists’ showrooms, trendy boutiques, and bakeries. It’s also next door to the famed South African restaurant, The Test Kitchen.
The storefront of Imiso Ceramics drew me like a moth to a flame. Founded by two South African artists, Zizipho Poswa and Andile Dyalvane, their styles of ceramics were different from one another, yet complimented each other seamlessly. The brightly lit, spare, showroom was mesmerizing. From the inky darkness outside, we cupped our eyes, pressed our heads up against the windows, and peered inside.
They were just about to close for the evening but allowed us in. I was inspired by everything. Typically when we travel, something immediately jumps out at me from a shop or gallery. Sometimes, we travel and never fall in love with anything. It was a candy store of beautiful ceramics, and I was that child who wanted it all.
Meeting both Zizi and Andile in the studio made choosing one piece challenging, to say the least. We spent a good amount of time talking with them about the inspirations and techniques of their craft. We fell for both of their styles. It was rare for us to meet the artist that created the ceramics we would ultimately buy.
In the name of fairness, we bought a piece from each of them, and they lovingly packed them up to ship to our home in DC. We bought a hand-pinched piece from Zizi, a white bowl lined with metallic paint and a vivid, blood-red interior. Then, a piece from Andile’s intense ‘Scarified’ collection. Scarification is the ancient African traditional act of cutting the skin in order to ward off negative and evil spirits. The pure white bowl’s exterior was repeatedly sliced, revealing hints of primary colors under the ‘skin’. Each bowl held the intensity of the artist’s culture within it.
A few weeks after our return to the US, our bowls arrived. Now, those pieces sit on shelves in our home and hold the stories of Zizi and Andile, their heritage, as well as the backstory of finding them late that night at the Old Biscuit Mill, just as they were closing up shop.
The bowl that ignited Yet another collection
Santa Fe is a city filled with arts, culture, great food, and gorgeous hiking. Lisa, a friend since my Tokyo days, and I chose it as our girls’ weekend destination—she was coming from LA, and I was coming from DC. We had no plans, aside from a few dinner reservations. The New York Times’ ’36 Hours in Santa Fe’ became our sole guide.
As it turned out, a plan wasn’t necessary, as locals were happy to steer us around the charming town. In fact, we ended up changing a reservation based on a tip from a local store owner one evening. On another day, we ended up at a fantastic Peruvian breakfast dive on the outskirts of town. Local knowledge rules, as always.
After checking into our hotel, we walked around town aimlessly, trying to find the main square. Andrea Fisher Fine Pottery was the first gallery we set foot in, and I still consider it the best. Andrea Fisher has collections of ceramics from several well-known Native American tribes, many of whom still hone their craft on New Mexico reservations, their skills continuing to be passed down through the generations.
Black and white is my go-to color palette or lack of color palette as some might argue. When I first caught sight of the Acoma display of ceramics, I had a hunch I wasn’t leaving New Mexico without one. The layers and levels of detail, especially from the older masters, are impossible to mentally process. That the finely brushed, intricate patterns are created by hand, and not a machine, is a marvel of craftsmanship that I might never be able to wrap my head around.
The Acoma Puebla is not too far from Albuquerque and has occupied a staggering 5,000,000 acres of ancient land for over 2000 years, making it one of the oldest continuously lived-in communities in the United States.
In reading up on the tribe and their pottery traditions, (thank you mom, for the thoughtful coffee table book) I learned that the geometric patterns are applied with the spike of a yucca plant. The folklore goes on to say, that after a pot was finished, the artist would lightly strike its side, then listen carefully for a ringing sound. If they didn’t hear a ring, it would mean that the piece would crack while under fire.
The thunderbolt-designed bowl I bought that day had the honor of sparking yet another collection. Since then, my husband has occasionally surprised me with Acoma pottery for Mother’s Day gifts, anniversaries, and birthdays. I once tried to buy one for him, for his birthday. But my daughter called my bluff, knowing it was sneakily a gift for me, not him. Damn.
Find the Memories Hiding In Your Travel Collections
Click here to get “The Ultimate Guide to Starting a Travel Collection”. It’s free!
Improvisation
The memories that surround what might be my favorite bowl are fuzzy, at best. My memory is not great under normal circumstances, and going from 2020 to 2007 is a stretch. I will have to improvise a little.
When we moved to Tokyo, we started receiving a magazine called Kateigaho, which considers itself the ‘definitive source for Japanese arts and culture.’ Thumbing through an issue, a dazzling insight into the world of which I was now a part, I was mesmerized. Swoon-worthy architecture, upscale hidden kaiseki restaurants, and Japanese art and artisans were the tip of the Asian iceberg, so to speak.
It was in an issue of Kateigaho, very early in our days there, where I saw a photo of an elder Japanese ceramicist and his stunning work. The exquisite pieces he turned jumped at me from the glossy pages. His finishes were unusual, partly matte, but with an imperceptible sheen. The leaves of the Japanese maple, Momi-ji, were a motif that captivated me. It has since become my favorite tree, as well as one of my favorite memories attached to living in Japan. Overlapping leaves create endlessly intriguing patterns as the sun passes through them—just like the one I see out of my window each morning in DC.
I must have tracked him down, visited his studio, and somehow communicated with him. I am sure he spoke as much English as I spoke Japanese. The only proof I have of the transaction is the bowl itself. My memory is blank. I don’t have his name. Nothing to go on but a lost back issue of Kateigaho from 2007, and an illegible signature on the base of the bowl. Look out eBay, I am still searching, and I will find it.
Looking backward, and forwards
Some of my best travel memories are stored in this collection of little bowls—invisible though they may be to everyone else. Every so often, I look at them and remember the places that we went, the people we met along the way, and the travels that changed us somehow, and allowed us to see the world in a new way. I miss travel. The ache is real.
For the time being, I will sit in my favorite red chair, overlooking green grass, watching the delicate leaves unfurl, day by day, on my very own Japanese maple, and meditate. On the way to that chair, I will pass by those bowls and remind myself of their stories. I like the idea of my memories being attached to the objects in my house. Not a bad way to travel, at least for now.
Find the Memories Hiding In Your Travel Collections
Click here to get “The Ultimate Guide to Starting a Travel Collection”. It’s free!
Bowled over!
Very cute, dad. Thx for the love!
I love how you describe these objects as having memories that you and your family share! I envision that your living room is decorated with joy.
Thank you for the kind comment, Nancy! And for reading! – Jamie
I really loved this post!
Thank you for saying! -Jamie
I love your collections! xx
: ) Bec, you’ve been there for some of our finds! xo
Love this! Like this pandemic you are reminding us to stop and look around . Like that great line “Wherever you go, there you are…” xoxo
Thank you Meredith! I love that line too!
Love the Andrea Fisher pottery! You sound much more organised than me – most of my non-work/play time has been spent sorting through a backlog of rubbish/paperwork/stuff that’s accumulated into boxes over the last couple of decades (busy lives and children long since stopped this being in a priority). In some ways, it’s quite depressing (why did I not keep on top of it all at the time?) but in other ways quite therapeutic as gradually we’re finding we have less ‘stuff’ and can find things more easily 🙂
I love the stories behind each piece and the special memories they hold for you and Daniel. They’re all so beautiful but I have to say, I’m completely enamored by the Acoma pottery. Those black and white geometric patterns are incredible! On another note, I’m still trying not to run through my To-Do list during meditation.
Thanks Kristen, for reading and commenting! : )
This is so beautifully written! I enjoyed the journey you took me on.
Thank you, Tracey!
What a beautiful collection! You’ve inspired me to go through my souvenirs.
Hope you find many great memories! Thank you for reading!
I have been wanting to get into meditating for a long time but never really know how, I will give Unplug a try. I also love the idea of giving artifacts a special memory to give them a sentimental value!
Thank you! I also looked up your site and really enjoyed your latest post!
Hey thanks for sharing. You guys have collected such beautiful pieces 🙂
Thank you Allie! So nice of you to say. Stay well! -Jamie
Beautifully written article with beautifully taken photos! As an overseas Japanese glad that our art inspired your travel and wellbeing.
Thank you for your kind note! I am looking forward to going back to Japan one day!
I love your collection! Most especially the empty shells. This post got me thinking as to what kind of collection I should start.
Thank you! I hope the collection you start brings you lots of joy! -Jamie
It’s unbelievable how this period has made us “awake” in many different ways. It’s like we are finally paying attention even to the tiniest things. I like the title of your post, by the way, you suddenly realized that your room was a world on its own. Interesting read.
Thank you Viano! Yes, that is definitely a lovely way to put it. The room was a world on its own. Hope I can keep remembering that! Thank you for the comment!
Beautiful collection ?
Thank you very much! -Jamie
I can’t help admiring your colorful bowl collections and those interesting matchboxes. Simple collections give us huge memories.
So nice of you to say, Blair, thank you! -Jamie
Every thing has a memory behind it. I loved all the collection you have. They are so beautiful.
So true, thank you for reading and commenting! -Jamie
What a beautiful collections. I love the different colors of the bowl.
Thank you, Maysz, for the thoughtful comment! -Jamie
My favourite bowl was the one in improvisation. It’s beautiful leaves reminded of nature!
That is my favorite bowl too! Thank you for commenting! -Jamie
Finally sat down and read this post. So lovely and beautiful…I always enjoy seeing all your collections in your home and the memories they hold for you are incredibly significant now…and forever. xo
Thank you, Gretchen! xoxo Jamie
Wow that is some collection. I love that all of them are memories for you and your family.
Thank you for saying! Yes, the best memories for sure! Take care! -Jamie
What a superb collection of bowls from all over the world! This is a veritable museum!
Thank you, Vasu! So nice to hear from you. Happy and safe travels! -Jamie
What an absolutely beautiful collection! I love pottery. I have a beautiful coffee brewer from Vietnam. However, as a full-time traveler, the only thing I can collect are pictures.
Hi Iris, thank you for the lovely comment. Collecting photos is the best collection of all I think! -Jamie
Such a nice post. I haven’t travelled much in my lifetime but from the little I have, the things I’ve collected always bring me back to that place in time. ?
Thanks Bibi! I’m happy to hear that your collections bring you joy, too! -Jamie
I loved this! Thank you for taking me on a journey with you.
You’re welcome Jess. Thank you for reading! Safe travels! -Jamie