I recently met a woman who nonchalantly referred to herself as a collector, of sorts, in our introductory conversation. I took no notice of her self-described comment until a few minutes further into the conversation when it became very clear to me that she was, indeed, a collector. This woman carried with her an indescribable assortment of collected stories, experiences, observations, facts, and figures. As we continued in discourse, I discovered so much more about this eccentric and gifted woman. Not only was she a collector, but her as an aspect of her spirit was the outpouring of much of those treasures. She began to share with me bits and pieces of her knowledge and consciousness. This was her spirited gift to me.
The intent of our meeting was really only to establish ourselves as acquaintances. However, in the time I spent with her, our relationship quickly developed into much more – something much deeper.
Upon leaving, I thought much about all she had shared with me. I also mused over the concept of gathering all that life has to offer; holding it close for the mere purpose of sharing it with others. I believe many of us are collectors on some level. We each collect our own little tidbits in life, whether they be material, tangible, or esoteric. Not many of us, however, seek to share what we hold dear. Often we grasp tightly, keeping it only for ourselves – for our own satisfaction and gratification.
Personally, I adore and live for the consideration of gifting all that we possibly have to offer.
I also thought more and more about both this woman in general, and the word she used, “collector.” Continued research led me to discover another’s description of this woman: assemblagist. This was definitely a brand new word in my vocabulary. Assemblagist: an artist who specializes in the composition made from scraps, junk, and odds and ends (as of paper, cloth, wood, stone, or metal).
Using scraps and junk in the description of an artist in any way shape or form feels a bit biased, blasphemous, and harsh. I suppose, though, one man’s trash is another man’s treasure.
I do enjoy the word, assemblagist. It’s new, it’s different, and it possesses a very unique sonority.
My own mind is full of so many different thoughts and things – well, junk. Perhaps I’ll begin to refer to myself as “The Assemblagist.”