One Small Thing: Anstey Harris

I thought a lot about this... And I decided that this little picture (is it a picture?)(scene?)(model?) is something that really helps get me through this period of uncertainty.

I bought this about 8 years ago from a charity shop in the little seaside town where I live. The volunteer in the shop was just putting it in the window as I walked by, her hand was still hovering over it. I think it was £12. At the time, money was a bit tight and I wrestled (for mere seconds) with my inner grown up about whether I should buy it. Luckily, I shouted down that common sense (one of my superpowers) and I bought this little box. What I love most about it, and am most inspired by, is the sheer number of hours it must have taken to build this tiny scene, almost exclusively from miniscule shells. And then something went wrong, it ended up in a charity shop. And that would be heart-breaking if you're the person that made it.

But that wasn't the end of the box. The box went on to live with a writer and a violin maker. It went on to be valued by grandchildren who marvel at its miniature splendour, and who will tell their grandchildren about 'the fish shop my granny had on her wall.' They'll probably fight over it when I die.

So, what I take from this painstaking and lovely object is that bad times never last forever and, hidden inside every missed opportunity - every disappointment, there is a grain of hope that will wiggle and wiggle until it becomes something new; something permanent and full of happiness.

You can find out more about Anstey's work here. Where We Belong 14 May 2020.