Thursday, May 28, 2009
What did You Collect?
Describe in as much detail as possible a collection of something you had when you were younger. You may also write about an "anti" collection or someone else's collection if you didn't collect anything yourself. And, of course, I will write about my butterfly collection! See my collected butterflies by clicking on the links! Tiger Swallowtail, Mourning Cloak; Painted Lady
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Brad, the Butterfly Killer!
Shocking, I know, but I was once a collector of butterflies and their killer as well. We (my friend Rory and I) used to use what we called a “kill jar” to do the deed. But first, we had to catch the butterflies. That was the most fun, especially when we were chasing the largest of the butterflies that were found in Burnaby—the Tiger Swallowtail. They flew fast! But, I was young and fearless then, so off I would go, my butterfly net held high above my head, running down a narrow path through the forests below Rumble Street (near the Edmonds Skytrain station). When we caught one, we’d carefully take it from the net so as not to damage the delicate wings and then force it into our jar. The jar held some gasoline soaked rag in the bottom that was separated from the butterfly by a roughly cut piece of old window screen. Once it was dead, we would press the wings flat in a mold and then mount it in our collection box. To mount the insect, we would take a straight pin and push it through the body. Each had a small paper tag glued to the bottom of the box with the butterfly’s name. Other butterflies we caught included Painted Ladies, Mourning Cloaks and Cabbage Butterlies. I hate to say it, but I now rarely see butterflies these days, but when I do I promise you that I only watch with my eyes. My butterfly collecting days are over!
Collecting Drawings of Difficult Times
I drew many pictures and collected them while being out of school for several months-- war in Kabul in 1994. Spending most of the days in the dark basement of our apartment building (because of the missiles), and using an oil lamp as the source of light, I started from drawing the pictures of my family members, then grand parents, aunts, uncles, cousins, and other relatives. It helped me a lot in reducing the level of war stress.
Painting always was one of my favourites. Although, I did not have any special trainings or a teacher (there were no opportunities at that time), I could pencil in the face which was on a photo.
I used my younger brother’s help in drawing eyes though-- I always drew them asymmetrical. Why my paintings did not have any colour (was it because of the cruelty of the situation I had been living in?)?
I liked my collection at that time, but later it reminded me of the deaths I’ve witnessed in that war. I never draw any pictures afterwards, nor do I have that collection. I left it behind.
What did I collect?—I collect impressions
People usually favorite to collect something: stamps, coins, photos, and paintings, except me-- I collect nothing, neither stamps nor photos.
People would think that I was a dull person who lacked of the sentiment of life. I didn’t think so, for I was lack of the conditions to collect them--the situation didn’t allow me to do so. For example, letters coming from abroad were the necessarily condition for collecting stamps. That would cause trouble—you would be noticed. If you took the photos of livelihood that were called the “art” photo other than the “standard”, you would be stuck the label of having “bourgeoisie sentiment.” So, keeping away from those things was the best choice for the majority of the people.
Someone collected ancient books, and he/she burned them in the period of the great revolution. Someone owned antiques, but he/she broke the ancient porcelains and destroyed the famous paintings at the same period. How could I collect things again?
By way of exception, I collect “impressions”. All of the “good things” for me, such as: the mottos of the sages, the beautiful landscape sceneries, the master’s calligraphy, and the famous shows, have already stored in my mind. Like the footage of a film or a DVD disk, it ups vivid in front of me at the moment I need.
Words: 221
Up to now, I collected many things—hats, stamps, key holds, and watches.
My collection began when I was in grade six, my brother first gave me a book of stamp collections and from that day, I guess I began to colect everything.
When I first came here, I began to collect key holds because I wanted to hold memories of my sister—who I kept fond memories of her high school days and me being her little sister.
When I was in grade eight or seven, I began to collect watches, because I wanted to collect time and I don’t know maybe, I liked the styles of watches.
A year later, when I was in grade 11 and 12, I collected hats, especially sports hats because I wanted to hide something, something seemed so important to me.
Right now, I don’t have any collections now. I might be start collect something right now, tomorrow, or never.
-155 words.
Never go to McDonald’s Again
In the farewell party thrown by my roommates from the university before I left China, many of them complained they were sick of anything from McDonald’s, even the smell.
I knew the reason and I laughed my head off—that’s all because of my crazy habit of collecting Snoopy products.
Snoopy is an American cartoon image. It’s a puppy who always considers itself a human being. Snoopy can dance and sing, swim and play baseball, it loves piazza than dog’s food and is extremely friendly to little girls.
For nearly ten years, I was insane about everything with Snoopy images on them. I had snoopy clothes, watches, stationeries, mugs, beddings, bags, clips. . . . Except I didn't eat dog’s food, you could even call me Snoopy.
So when McDonald’s started prompting for their children meal with a Snoopy toy dressed in different style from fifty-six countries, of course I won’t miss it. Therefore, in the coming two months, I made all my friends go there one by one for me to eat that crazy meal continually. Finally I had collected all of the Snoopies and they, my roommates—could never step into McDonald’s again.
“Thank God, Snoopy isn’t so popular now. I don't even want my daughter see this cartoon.” My old pal Heping said.
“Well, they’d be obsessed by something else I can bet you, maybe Hello Kitty or Buka or something else.”
“Hey you, shut up!”
Pictures I collected.
I collect things unconsciously; I love to collect my family’s pictures. I could still remember the proud expression on his face when he showed me that picture of his youth in the old shanghai color (that was kind of brownish color considered to be more advanced than black and white, but without real colourful color in place). That was a big deal to take picture in the 1930’; man was still dressing in long one piece gown, and the hair was all combed towards the back with a little olive shape hat. That was my grandfather, sixteen, young, handsome and ambitious, migrating to Shanghai with his newly wedded wife to explore the “Big Shanghai”; he later became the owner of a sweat factory which was latter “merged” with the government.
Being proud of who you are, where you came from and so you know where you are going, that might be the reason why I love to collect the old pictures, I still had my mom and dad’s wedding picture – that was the color one in the 1970’; the color was actually not the real color they wore but a kind of painting added on later.
I love to take pictures too. I still remember the dark room and the excitement of watching the pictured –I just took in the park—to appear it shape in black and white color in the liquid under the red dim lamp. I collect also my own pictures, from childhood until my golden year of youth; I put them into the album. My daughter secretly looked at my pictures and told me “Mom, you look like a princess in that beautiful laced dress.” Maybe the proud look on my face reminds me of my grandfather.
294 words
Looking at my Uncle Jerry’s CD cabinet, I promised myself that one day I would surpass his collection. That was around 10 years ago. Now, years after I bought my very first record (The Velvet Underground and Nico) I look at my collection, and sort of feel like I won something. Don’t get me wrong, though. I collect CD’s not because I want to compete with my uncle, but because I love music.
From Billie Holliday to Eva Cassidy; Nina Simone to Alicia Keys;Frank Sinatra to Buble;Eric Clapton to John Mayer; Marvin Gaye to John Legend; Black Sabbath to System of a down; Led Zeppelin to White Stripes; Ramones to Greenday, I have them. May it be Jazz, Blues, Folk, Rock and Roll, Reggae, Punk or Heavy Metal, I listen to them.
But, my most favourite record or records that I own, are Velvet Underground and Nico, Vashti Bunyan’s Some Things Just Stick In Your Mind, and The Eels' Beautiful Freak. I could listen to these three records for a whole day and would not get tired of it.
I now own around 300 records, not a lot compared to others, but the thing is, I still have the rest of my life to collect.
Every Saturday, we are supposed to get one rupee for our piggy bank from my father in my childhood. It was a just pocket money for me. When it became my hobby, I did not know.
Rather, consider as money, I started finding what coin I got. I started check with my siblings, what they got. If I found they got new coin, I asked them to exchange with me. My brother found my weakness. He started asked for double. For example for new one-rupee coin, he asked for two rupees.
Since I am a cashier, I always keep my eyes on new coin. When I found new coin, I keep separate those coins. End of my shift I always asked my manager to exchange them .thank God! He never charged me double.
Word 133
A full box of baby dolls was hidden under her bed. Yet she was not satisfied with that. She started collecting for another box.
She was obsessed with baby dolls. She would collect any old baby dolls a child didn’t want and add it to her collections.
Sometimes, when passing by a kid whose parents weren’t with, she would snatch the doll from her and run off.
She didn’t care. As a friend of her, I didn’t tell her it was wrong, either.
I remember wandering around with her in the neighborhood one afternoon. It was quiet. The only sound was the dragging of our slippers.
We passed in a yard that was very quiet. We then saw—her eyes zoomed on –a sexy Barbie doll, lying on the porch. And there was nobody—at least we thought so—in sight.
“Let’s get it,” she said.
I said nothing as I watched her sneak toward the porch for the doll. She took it and started tip toeing toward me. Suddenly a hand from nowhere grabbed her by her arm. Caught in the act, it was.
I set off at first, but then I knew it wasn’t the right choice to leave a friend in trouble. I went back.
And we both were grounded for a week when our parents knew. I said I would tell her parents any time she does something like that. But her obsession didn’t stop.
“You’ve learned your lesson .and you won’t do that next time,” I said.
“Oh, really? The hardest thing is for me to be ungrounded and you’ll see. I would just have to be smart next time.”
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