Minimalism can be my thing, but not so frequently in the finite world of a 37 square meter apartment (shout out to the metric world!). The Mary was previously seen hanging out in the closet; migration happens. The walrus is a thrift store find, broken tusk and all. I believe it to be an Intuit carving, similar to these three, carved from perhaps bone or tusk or fossilized something. I like it however, with a (false) feeling of kinship for anyone north of the 45th parallel overtaking me round this time each year.
The goose is ceramic/pottery and I don’t know its history, but I was waffling a bit on it when a friend weighed in in the affirmative. Canadian geese are pretty iconic here as well, and they’re the kinds of birds you set your calendars by, the wake-up clarion call of their spring arrivals and the mournful farewells of fall. Also a lot of poop, but runs are more fun with obstacles! And the threats of geese attacks! (Not mean attacks–just reminders that neither they nor I want me getting too close to their goslings.)
Geometric shapes are courtesy of Paper Source, via a thank you gift card from a client, and from the thrift store. Black globe is a cheapie that should have a printed warning do not use for circumnavigation; continents may be located differently than they appear. The branch behind Mary is a souvenir gift from a dear friend’s travels (yes, I do request sticks and stones if asked what to bring back. I’m classy like that. I’d also accept fossils or relics, but the guilt would be overwhelming, even without the potential legal consequences). The small globe is a lunar one, because of course.
The large globe is a thrift store splurge and is a whiteboard globe by an Italian company (name update to follow when I get a stool out to double-check). It was above my usual cheap-ass, daughter-of-Depression-era-father price point (double digits!!!) so I was pleasantly surprised to google it and find my only hits coming from Inter Library Loan (ILL) options–that was suitably nerdy to assuage the money-stress stuff! It’s basically a whiteboard for the world, with only continent outlines and rivers marked permanently. How seriously awesome is that? You remember the kids game that the adults didn’t like because it was too hard on the globes, where you’d spin it to see where you were born, would die, etc,? This feels like a less fatalistic version of that, potentially. Or more educational. My brother says it fits well into my world domination aesthetic, but again, I take it as a compliment both of my decor and my leadership skills as an older sibling.
Behind that is my fan. It’s a vintage one that my father used to haul out in the middle of winter when I’d complain about the cold while typing papers in high school (while I do run chilly when not moving, my family also kept the thermostat round about Depression-era temperatures, so my complaints were somewhat legit). He’d swear it was a space heater, plug it in, point it at me, and eventually cede that nope, not so much. But spoiler alert! Years later we did find a similar looking space heater buried deeper in the attic–ahh, the risks of the default gunmetal paint color! I do use it (the fan, not the space heater) in the summer, though it often starts up with a screech that is alternately embarrassing when I have friends over and welcome when people have decided to smoke directly below my windows (the noise is a strong deterrent for remaining nearby, although it ceases within about 30 seconds). I also love that it’s easy to disassemble, which I did when I returned home from an air-conditioned night out with friends during a particularly hot summer. In my tipsy and decisive state, I’d hoped to oil away the screeching noise. When I saw it spread out in pieces on the floor in front of me, I realized I didn’t actually know where to put the oil, so instead I Instagrammed it (of course!) before reassembling it.
The electric alarm clock is the kind you used pre-digital-tech to turn appliances or lamps on at set times (for coffee in the morning or to keep burglars away, I think). I haven’t done more than ascertain that it theoretically works, but I’m a fan of its face (and your face, of course!). Also, there are some rocks, mostly some of the larger ones in my collection. And a strange photo of a waterscape, which I bought for the frame but have kept up for the colors and the laziness (mine, not the photos).
And there you have it.