What the Distance Contains

Abstract

Souvenir is the French word for memory. In English it is an object kept in order to retain a memory. These two definitions share a common theme, but the obvious distinction is the difference of material possession. More often than not, the English definition of souvenir is associated with cheap kitsch; it becomes a way to take advantage of tourists’ connection to a place by selling shot glasses and printed t-shirts. I used to collect souvenirs, mostly because I thought they were funny, and I am often still drawn to that idea. But frequently these days I find myself leaving souvenir shops empty-handed, feeling put-off by the attempt to manipulate my experience of a place with cheap plastic manufactured on another continent. More often I have been drawn to collecting rocks on my travels, usually small but interesting stones that describe, to me, the geological makeup of a place. When I bring these stones back to my collection, I place them next to others I’ve collected and consider how it might be possible that those from the Bay of Fundy could be such a deep purple while the ones from Ilkley Moor, across the Atlantic, are a yellowish sandy brown. These stones are souvenirs I have curated for myself. I know very little about geology, but the stones have value for me. They feel genuine. They were at my feet once while I walked, and they called to me from that vantage point, so I brought them back.