Mini collection 40

Bit of a delay in posting today's little collection but that's because I was actually collecting it. It's not a collection in the sense that the previous 39 have been, but I collected these bits of detritus and driftwood on the beach at Tankerton near Whitstable this morning. I love them and have been dreaming of going back there to scavenge ever since I first walked along the beach in the drizzle about two years ago and realised how much pebble-rubbed plastic and wood (and assorted other stuff) there was. I'm sure many beaches are exactly the same, but this beach took on special qualities for me after that day, so when I had the chance of a weekend away I chose Whitstable. Which of course is lovely for many other reasons apart from its colourful beach scrap.

Tankerton beach

We had dinner at the Sportsman, which was completely fantastic -- can't recommend it highly enough but you have to book ahead.

If I make anything with my scavenged bits, I'll try to show and tell.

The deer are back

Plastic people

After the miniature postcard people in the last post, I'm turning my attention to another set of figures -- tiny plastic personages.

Green around the gills ... this sailor is 1cm high

Over the years I've collected quite a lot of little coloured figurines, mainly from crackers. Blue seems to be the most popular colour:

The largest of these -- the elf drummer on the left -- is 4cm high. The smallest are about 1cm high.

I love the sporty cats:

What completely blows my mind about all these figures is the process involved in making them. People presumably went to art or technical college, learned design skills and also about the manufacturing methods. Then they got jobs in designing these characters, moulds had to be made, colours chosen, production lines set up with machines turning out thousands of each, and yet they are utterly pointless and inconsequential. They exist in the world more or less meaninglessly, functionlessly, but they are made nonetheless. And made with detail, with humour, with tenderness.

lovely shades of green

The baby is 1cm high with a little pot belly and a solemn expression:

totemic

I feel that, by loving these creatures with their roughly extruded bodies, their leaked flaps of extraneous plastic flesh, I've given a little bit of meaning to the process of making them, which, otherwise, would somehow exemplify the monstrous excess of the global economic system.

That sounds silly, and of course it's meant to, but I still kind of mean it.

I'll be your dog (1.5cm high)