Sometimes we are drawn to things, or things are drawn towards us, I’m not entirely sure which it is. But it is down to the individual to decide whether they have meaning and what that is. I grew up thinking things just happened, that we do not have a fate or a destiny, and that it’s all random. And to a point, it’s still my belief, but along the way it seems there may be a semblance or order to it, that co-incidences are no such thing, and there is something behind it all that cannot quite be put into words.

An object such as the one in my photograph, was a feature of my young childhood. My father had one just like it, slightly bigger and not as worn, but three brass monkeys. I loved them and had a general love of ornaments and trinkets, but mainly because they represeneted and meant something to me. Having understood hyperphantasia a bit more over the last few years, I have worked out why I got so attached to things, almost to the point of hoarding or obsession at finding them again. The object has with it a memory of a feeling or emotion, sometimes attached to another person, or just about my own thought process at the time. That can create a strong attachment, if not kept in check. But brass ornaments have been a bit feature for me, my mother also collected brass and I have continued. But only because i associate them with her and my childhood. I knew they were cheap really, but to me they looked like gold, and i used to take great delight in polishing it to make it as shiney as I could. It made me happy seeing it clean.

At first I just thought I was trying to replace something lost from childhood, to hold to nostalgia of something long gone. And I was. But when I really gave thought to the why, I was suprised it wasn’t about remembering my mother or father at all (both of which haven’t been around for quite some time). But instead it was about me, remembering things that brought me comfort, or interest, or joy. I had a rather strained and dysfunctional upbringing, so when I did have a nice feeling or nice moments, I remembered them, replayed them when necessary to see me through. Sometimes we need courage, strength and moral conviction – and it may seem odd to some people that it could come from a trinket or object. But these things don’t give us the strength, they remind us that the strength was within us all along. I understand this now.

(c) K Wicks