Saturday, July 23, 2011


Finding new collector's blogs is like finding a needle in a needlestack... it's not that they are particularly hard to find like a needle in a haystack, it's that there are so many different types of collectors, blogs, and collections, it's hard to 'pinpoint' just the right one! (I'm 'sew' clever, aren't I?) But I digress.

I discovered this enchanting blog of Christina Friedrichsen of Ontario, Canada, who collects sea glass on Lake Erie. She's also a poet and photographer, and she turns her lovely finds into exquisite jewelry which she sells in her Etsy shop. The words below are hers, about why she collects sea glass:

Do you collect sea glass? Then you’ve witnessed that strange look in someone’s eyes that combines both bewilderment and boredom. Bewilderment because they can’t quite figure out why you are obsessed over bits of broken glass; and boredom because bits of broken glass are about as compelling to them as an electric garage door manual.

I do believe there are people in my extended family who have given me this look. (I won’t name any names.) For these folks, I limit my sea glass discussions to mere sentence fragments.

But maybe I am taking the wrong approach. Can they be enlightened? After all, sea glass has all the elements of a compelling collectible.

  • Sea glass is mysterious. Was it from a shipwreck? Or maybe a poison bottle?
  • Sea glass is beautiful. People rappel off of cliffs and kayak in dangerous waters in search of rare colors.
  • Sea glass is historical. Some pieces are hundreds of years old!
  • Sea glass is free – unlike many collectibles which can cost oodles of money.
  • Sea glass is full of surprises. You never know what will end up in your bucket!

Thankfully, the people I spend most of my time with (my husband and two girls) are in just as deep as I am, so there’s no need for a lecture. There’s no need to explain to them why housework, homework and other obligations must take a back seat to hitting the beach. There’s no need to explain to them why the kitchen table is covered in a rainbow of wet glass instead of dinner.

There’s no need to help them understand why I can hear the Divine Spirit, or Source a lot more clearly in the sound of the waves, then inside four walls.

As architect Frank Lloyd Wright once said: “I put a capital “N” on nature and call it my church.”

I love a church where I can wear rubber boots and smell the wind.

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