"We were here first" is something I can say for every one of our travels. Even when we visit the same location twice, we still experience numerous things for the first time. Therefore, from my perspective, we truly were here first.
A poster celebrates our latest trip to South-East Asia, featuring all of the most precious finds drawn onto one page.
I have a curiosity and amazement for the things I discover in nature that is reminiscent of the first explorers. They would bring back to home cabinets filled with shells, skulls, skins, beads and feathers, along with journals full of drawings and descriptions of these unknown and never-before-seen living creatures. Whenever I travel, I gather natural objects.
My favourite time is beach time!
Typically, I endeavor to primarily focus on photos and drawings because removing something from its rightful place can potentially cause harm. However, there is one distinctive item that possesses an irresistible charm for me: sea shells. I thoroughly enjoy discovering them, diving into readings about the molluscs that once dwelled within them, and most importantly, admiring and sketching their captivating beauty. The intricate patterns and mesmerizing colors, along with the captivating luster of their surfaces and the thrilling textures resulting from erosion, make them truly exceptional objects.
Some of the Indonesian finds.
While I am collecting, I try to stick to a few rules.
These precious creatures were found on Gili Air, Indonesia, and they were promptly returned into the water.
Firstly, I consciously avoid collecting any objects that contain living organisms. If there is a hermit crab inside, I leave the shell undisturbed. If the mollusc is still alive, I return it to the shallow water. Although I intend to preserve the lives of these molluscs, it can be a surprisingly difficult task – the vibrant shells of the live cowries look so much better than the dull ones that are easily found ashore. What beauties they are! With a sigh, I put them back where they belong.
These are my finds and sketchbook from Sri-Lankan trip. I had a couple of sketchbooks on me, actually, a small one for watercolour and a slightly bigger one for the markers
Secondly, I enjoy drawing whatever I come across in the moment or immediately after a trip. The setting may not always be ideal for sketching, such as a sunny beach with minimal shadows, but there is a certain charm in the sense of working spontaneously with the available materials. I typically carry one or two sketchbooks, along with pens, markers, and some watercolour supplies. My travel bag is mostly occupied by my natural history journal set:)
The remains of a moray eel, my lucky stinky find from a winter in Lombok. I managed to separate the skull from the rest of the eel's body and happily sketched it right then and there. I even entertained the idea of taking the bones back home and preserving them in a collection. However, I left the skull outside our hut and a dog ended up eating them. Oh well.
Thirdly, after a few trips, I have ceased to bring back the entire beach with me. Clearly, I don't require every last one of the shells I see! Although all of them hold significant value in my hungry heart, I do find solace in only selecting a few that I intend to identify, draw, and add to my collection. I refrain from gathering every minuscule cowrie, regardless of its appearance or the fact that I already possess numerous specimens of the same species. By leaving them undisturbed, they can serve as homes for hermit crabs and other creatures, eventually becoming one with the shore in the state of sand.
Actually, the Unknown species turned out to be same as the one on the left, Snakehead Cowrie.
Lastly, I have become more selective in what I am searching for. My favorite genera are Cypraea and Conidaea, so I primarily search for those. Also, I have developed a routine. I have found that it is optimal to go shelling early in the morning (as there is a lesser chance of getting sunstroke), during low tide (providing the opportunity to walk far along the shoreline and see if any empty shells are present), in the section of the beach where there are some large rocks (as a substantial accumulation usually forms there each morning or after a storm). It is intriguing to observe that certain areas have an abundance of specific species, with layers of shells gradually fading in color under the scorching sun, ranging from vibrant orange, cream, and chestnut to a bleached white. Additionally, it is fascinating to witness the delicate top layer of a plump cowrie shell chipping off, revealing a deep, rich purple layer underneath.
