penguin-pebble

[penguin-pebble]

Pet sitting at a pebler's house

This video was shown along with the physical aspects of my project at the thrid year degree show for Goldsmiths University 2024.

I've put the script below so you can follow along.

big thanks to my friend and classmate Hafsah for narrating

The door looks a lot less lonely than the last time you were here. Like an actual home instead of an empty guest house. You remember when Mood’s otherworldly guest first showed up. A stranger from another place with no sense of a past. You were there when T was officially welcomed to the town. You admit you don’t remember their name, but one of the few pebbles they wore featured the letter so you assumed it must be their first or family initial. Other than that and a small image kept inside their wallet of all places they had nothing. It wasn’t really a surprise that Harper and Mood took them in. They had the room, and Mood’s parents had taken in a lost fledgling before she was even born. But now their day trip to meet Mood’s brother had turned into a road trip back to Mood’s hometown. You aren't particularly nosey you like to think, but you’ve heard gossip that someone in their family wasn’t doing well. 

You feel the small bead in your pocket and glance at the shrine set in the door. Clay for good health and gilded with foil, to attract the attention of anything watching over the family. That same stylized T sits next to the legume family figure. It was a roughly carved wooden figure of a man, arms stretched across the T as if about to take flight. You’ve never seen a family spirit like this so it must be something T added to the shrine, a spirit from their world watching over their family. So maybe this will help them find their way home too. You thread the bead on a small chord and tie it to the shrine before turning your attention to the other pebbles on the door. Tyler and the other neighborhood kids had gone to town making pebbles for their “new big kid friend”. you see the small nest charm you pebbled a few weeks ago displayed and smile. The small bag for dropping pebbles looks almost full. That would be your first task. 

Harper and Mood had sent out a message asking if someone could bird sit while they were gone and you jumped on it. Any excuse for a short walk and dedicated time for pigeon cuddles. You gather the pebbles from the bag and open the door. A quick dip into the kitchen to set them down then to the roost. You’ve known Fido for a few years. Loves attention but hates kids. He’s always been a bit skittish when you’ve visited the main house before, but he seems to have taken to living with T in the guest house very quickly. 

Fido seems to be asleep, cooing rhythmically nested on one of the couch pillows. His litter perch definitely needs changing. Luckily Harper buys the compostable stuff so It’s just a matter of emptying the tray and filling it with fresh litter. 

They keep the compost bin out back, close to the flower boxes. You remember Harper was working on a vegetable garden, something for Tyler to grow up with. But that’s not finished yet, so the compost is way bigger than what they need. You pour the little clay pellets in and give it a mix with the stir stick anyway. Then you head back inside to refill the litter tray.

They keep the extra litter in the utility room. Harper’s message said it should be in the cupboard next to the washing machine. You find it and see some wild bird feed there too, next to Fido’s pigeon-safe treats. You should probably put some food out. There’s a pair of magpies that often nest in the neighborhood. And you know Harper likes to feed and pebble them.

Their food tray is outside the kitchen window, you saw it on the way in. You can set some food down on your way to replace Fido’s litter. You feel around your bag for an appropriate pebble. And there, some buttons from a blouse that had torn. It wasn’t repairable so you repurposed the fabric and kept the buttons. They’re horn not plastic and polished to a pearlescent shine so they’ll be perfect for wild magpies. You open the window and set both feed and pebbles on the tray. Something shiny catches your eye on the tray, a few washers and a bent paperclip - pebbles from the magpies. You clip them on your bag and pick up the litter tray again.

Back in the living room, fido’s woken up, so you give him a few of the treats and replace the litter tray. You check your watch. You’ve still got some time on your lunch break. You move some of the couch pillows to make a nest of your liking and sit down. Fido coos excitedly and hops into your lap. You give him a stroke and he settles, feathers fluffed and head rested on your leg. You expect you’ll be here for a while.

[penguin-pebble]

Journal 20/24/09/29

I guess I should probably write down what happened. I honestly don’t remember much. Just stepping off the London underground on my way to Uni, then stepping into a lab. Most of my first few days here were spent in a plain beige observation room, waiting for tests to come back. Was I dangerous? Not imminently. Was I contagious? Not dangerously so. Was I truly from another world? Or simply pulled from somewhere else in this one? Their questions about history and current events, and my blank stares, confirmed it. Eventually, they deemed I was harmless and released me from my beige prison. 

After realizing I had nowhere to go, one of the scientists, Mood, who had originally questioned me, offered me the guest room at her house. I was surprised, even more so when I remembered Mood and her husband had a four-year-old kid at home. But Mood and her coworkers seemed even more aghast at the idea of spending possible months in a hotel so I accepted, at least for a few days. Looking back, it seems like this world is just a little more trusting.

Leaving that stark whiteness of the Lab, or at least the sterile portion of it revealed more differences in our worlds. They could be described as cubicles, but it was nothing like the sea of corporate I was used to. Each sectioned-off workspace (apparently they call them nests) had a few monitors and perhaps some gadgets that had scientific importance unknown to me. The rest was covered in trinkets. Mugs, potted plants, tchotchkes, novelty snowglobes, tiny figurines, and more. The cubical walls, which looked more like the sides of a woven basket scaled up to room size, had even more decoration. Keychains, ribbons, macrame, and bits of elaborate jewelry hung from the woven fibers, and pictures or larger hangings were pinned to larger vertical supports every few feet. It looked like a few people had sectioned off their desks further, with more woven dividers or lengths of tapestry strung from beams on the ceiling.

This theme continued outside into the dry late afternoon heat (yet another reminder I was somewhere entirely different). The parking lot was relatively familiar, but the cars were something else. Similar makes and forms, but the colors. Most manufacturers I know stick to greys, silvers, whites, and blacks. Maybe the occasional red. These shades of brights and pastels are only for classic cars or expensive bodywork. Not here. Each car had a unique combination of colors. It seemed purposefully contrasting paint was used on parts that had been replaced (Mood’s blue-silver van has an iridescent purple bumper and right mirror and evidence of a large dent in the back has been embellished with gold paint).  Not to mention the stickers. about a dozen “Honk if you science” bumper stickers on Mood’s car alone. Some cars had familiar stick-figure families on their rear windows (albeit each figure seemed similarly bedazzled in their own vinyl clothes and accessories). But every car was covered in a myriad of different bumper stickers featuring cheesy slogans, landmarks, and unfamiliar cartoons or mascots.

This maximalist theme only continued as we drove through town and into a small suburb. At first I thought it must be Christmas or some equivalent holiday. As we passed by rows of houses, each door had a wreath. Most had two or more, with many having additional wreaths on the lower half of the door. These weren’t your normal pine sprig and holly Christmas wreath or even the more niche wreaths for other holidays and seasons. They looked like rope, or sometimes a wire, or maybe willow base. Each one covered in more random trinkets. Necklaces and strings of beads were artfully draped across and pins, earrings, and keychains hung from the frames. A few even had small figurines or toys stuck within the tangle of chains and beads.

Harper and Mood’s house had modest wreathes by comparison. I could still see the wire structure underneath all the brica-brack. Later, I learned this was because they only moved here a few years ago, so they were closer to both Tyler’s school and Mood’s lab. Apparently moving is like a really big deal here. Harper said that most families live in the same house for generations, adding on when they need more room. Usually, one kid stays in the family home while the rest move out join other families or create their own. Haprped says that if I’m still here I’ll be able to tag along for some winter holiday hosted by Mood’s brother.

Even though the house is new construction, it seems like Mood and Harper have already added on. The guest room I was offered turned out to be a separate building entirely. A sort of mother-in-law unit connected to the main house by a small covered patio area. It’s actually making me a lot more comfortable staying here, I’ve got my own bathroom and shower (I am infinitely grateful that area of culture seems to be the same) and even a small kitchen. The bed is weird though. It’s about the size of a double back home, maybe a queen. But it’s sunk into its own alcove, like a fancy window bench pumped up to eleven. And there are so many pillows. I don’t think the bed even has a proper mattress, just a thin pad, like a giant chair cushion, then a sea of pillows. All different shapes, sizes, colors, and designs. Plush, firm, or just decorative. It took me ages to find a position I could fall asleep in, but it was the best sleep of my life.

Some of the walls here have that same woven texture as the cubical nests at Mood’s lab (apparently the beds are also “nests” along with the small writing desk nook next to it). Sometimes they use little folded dividers of the same material too. That and curtains. Every room is divided into countless nooks and cubbies. It’s still very strange, but I’m starting to see how it could be considered homely.

[penguin-pebble]

Journal 20/24/09/21

Uh Dear Diary I guess? 

I’ve never really been one to journal, but Mood’s been taking research notes and I guess when I end up going home people are going to want to know about this world. It’s a little weird being here. Like things are mostly the same, and then suddenly there's this gap. There’s cars and houses and phones here but they’re all just different, different shapes, holes or hooks or latches in weird places or brands I don’t recognize but seem so familiar and established. 

People act a little differently too. We’re both human, as far as biology is concerned (those were some of the first tests when I arrived) but sometimes instincts or social stuff is a little different. And some of the animals are weird too. Like my first day here, mood introduced me to everyone in the house and mentioned pets, saying something like “oh fido and spot must be out back right now you’ll probably meet them tomorrow”. The next morning, I woke up to the biggest pigeon I’d ever seen, loafed and purring in the sunbeam that fell on the guest bed. Complete with a little paracord harness and dog tag that read “Fido”. Upon asking, Mood brought out a notepad and asked me what kind of pets I was used to. Any answers were followed by furious scribbling. 

That notepad basically followed me around for the first few weeks staying here. Eventually, Harper noticed that I seemed a little uncomfortable, but apparently, the solution was to get everyone a little notebook “That way everyone can do some science”. 

So here we are, after a quick trip to Brad’s paper and craft supply we’ve all got new notebooks. I tried to find the most plain but well... Options ranged from childish to gaudy, from Tyler’s sketchbook with multicolored cartoon hippogryphs to the journal featuring the large multicolored rhinestones Harper chose. I still feel like a preppy schoolgirl with what I was able to find, along with my new “stationary kit”. It seems to contain pencils, gel pens, and highlighters in every conceivable color, but absolutely no eraser or correction fluid in sight. I guess writing all this down has helped a little. I’m still a little uncomfortable with Mood studying me like some weird mold in a petri dish… but I guess that is her job. And now I get to document everything weird that happens here too. Look out strange bird world, you're about to get scienced!