Z: Ziljan (and the symbols of authentic inspiration)

 The Wishbone Alphabet – an experiment, of course, with attitude, life and the eponymous soup.

I’m not totally against material possessions, just meaningless stuff we clutter our selves and spaces with. Some things can be the physical representations of ideals, like achieving the highest standard of musical expression (I'm merely a listener, picked Ziljan for the symbol/cymbal pun, shame on me, but then again, this is the end of the A-Z Challenge, I’m allowed to play.)

My best symbol is my dragonfly, which is tattooed on my left shoulder and therefore unlikely to get cleared out. It represents the ability to transform oneself, and since I have used it correctly (smug but true) it has become a powerful prompt in my life. I like tattoos but I only have the one, because so far it’s all I’ve needed. I have pondered other designs, such as a periwinkle shell, a tiny home for a creature that survives the fiercest storms, but my dragonfly doesn’t seem to need any company.

The biggest concentration of physical symbolic stuff in our house is balanced on the shelves of my Box Office, which was meant to be a cupboard before it morphed into a miniature studio. They are my quirky hooks of memory, captures of feeling and place, reminding me what I do, and why. Photographs, postcards, a piece of volcanic rock, two glass snails called Beard and Goat, wedding tiara, fairy lights, glow-in-the-dark stars…

Down in the freezing neglected dining room (good for storing jam) is the cabinet of curiosities, also provoking memory and imagination. In here, currently, amongst other objects; two badger skulls, one bird skull (blackbird sized) and some plastic flowers. 

These things need revisiting, and moving about, because if you leave them in one place too long you are in danger of not paying attention to them anymore. Unnoticed stuff loses meaning, gets demoted to clutter. Sometimes the novelty simply wears off. If you lose appreciation for something, it needs to be moved on. I love (and am betting on some empathising here) going through our house and clearing out everything that we no longer communicate with, passing it on to be re-appreciated, making space for us. Then I can walk around this bonkers cottage, this collection of negative adjectives; under-heated, mouldy, rat chewed carpet, ill-fitting doors, half assed paint jobs, scatterings of dust, cobweb, spider poo, sawdust, dog hair, mud, icy drafts; I see it all and I love it, because we live here. This house we live in is a symbol of our odd but sensible (if you can look at them correctly) choices, the ordinary miracle of our lives.

Thank you very much, you’ve been a wonderful audience, please come back again soon! I’m here everyday and I can recommend the soup!