Collectors’ items
Curating corners of God’s creative ensemble
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Quick—Google “Cuban Spiky,” then come back here.
Are those not the cutest little bugs you’ve ever seen? In case you didn’t Google, the Cuban Spiky is an isopod—a land-based crustacean with seven pairs of evenly matched legs. It’s closely related to the common pill bug, or “roly-poly,” but Cuban Spikys are anything but common.
At a recent pet expo in White Plains, N.Y., collectors were paying $350 for a plastic cup containing nothing more than dirt, dead leaves, and a few Spikys the size of your pinky fingernail. In January, The New York Times reported that “thousands of enthusiasts in online communities around the world” are collecting and breeding different varieties of isopods. This includes the aptly named Rubber Ducky isopod, which is also adorable.
Of this new collecting trend, David Vargas, who runs Holy-Poly Isopods in Wildomar, Calif., told the Times, “I always compare it to Pokémon. You’ve got to catch them all.”
That collectors are paying big bucks to curate colonies of cute crustaceans got me thinking about why we collect things in the first place.
For many people, collecting is about externalizing memory: places visited, family heirlooms, baby shoes, clipped locks from a child’s first haircut. Other collectors are engaged in a form of meaning-making.
I have three collections. All three are about meaning and each meaning is different. I collect book bags from independent bookstores—not to commemorate my visits, but because independents support authors, and as an author I want to support independents. I also have a collection of bracelets, purchased from local artisans during long-distance motorcycle rides to places like Silverton, Colo. (population: 622), and Tortilla Flat, a wide place in the road in Arizona.
Finally, I collect furniture and objects from the American Arts and Crafts period (1900–1930). I love the era because it emphasized simple forms and natural materials—wood, leather, glass, stone—well-made objects for everyday use.
It seems God, too, imbues specific objects with special meaning and cares deeply about the materials He selects. When He gave building instructions for the ark of the covenant and the priestly vestments, He was very picky. Not just any wood; acacia wood. Not just any stone; onyx.
Some people’s collections evoke specific emotions. For example, WORLD CEO Kevin Martin collects art. The walls and shelves in his home are covered in art and sculpture in many media and styles. The reason for his collection: joy—plain and simple. He takes joy in the beauty of each piece, he told me, and in the stories behind them.
In Enchiridion, the handbook on Christianity Augustine wrote for his Roman friend Laurentius, he notes that all things are not “supremely and equally and unchangeably good,” but as an ensemble they are very good, because they constitute “the universe in all its wonderful order and beauty.” Perhaps, then, some of us collectors delight in bringing order and beauty to our little corners of God’s created ensemble.
For a long season in life, WORLD reader Jeff Hamann delighted in collecting … well, sea slugs. Hamann found himself fascinated with nudibranchs, the scientific name for a major group of sea slugs. Enchanted with their endless combinations of neon colors and the feathery breathing structures that swayed from their backs, he collected them for years, mostly via photography, since he didn’t want to pluck too many from their homes. Tide-pooling, diving, and snorkeling all over the world, he identified and officially named several nudibranchs that had never been seen before, including one in La Jolla, Calif., which his mentor at the Scripps Institution of Oceanography named after Hamann himself: Cuthona hamanni.
As years passed, Hamann found himself wondering why he loved collecting—and especially naming—these beautiful creatures. Then in his Bible reading, he encountered Genesis 2:19: “Now out of the ground the LORD God had formed every beast of the field and every bird of the heavens and brought them to the man to see what he would call them. And whatever the man called every living creature, that was its name.”
Adam’s naming of the animals is the first recorded moment when God invites man to participate in the ordering and stewardship of Creation. In effect, God let Adam name every creature in His entire animal collection. How cool is that?
I’d love to hear what you collect—and especially why.
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