by Elana Neil
The jar with the punctured lid is home to a charming breathing companion species. They partially breathe through gills even though they live on land, which means in my jar. Mesmerizing beings I can‘t stop reading and talking about. Together we watch with more or less interest the ocean – approaching flat landscapes rushing by while busy with our lives. I tend to work on my environmental humanities PhD while traveling, or better yet I travel in order to work on my PhD, because this is the only kind of office I can function in and don‘t fall asleep under the table (yes, I have done that).
So where should I start? I am addicted to freshly caught oysters from the beach. I am also addicted to ocean air (any kind of fresh air actually – I also love to share it with Alpine chough on a chill winter day atop a majestic mountain), but that makes me so sad, and it would fill an entire novel, so let’s skip that for now.
Thus I prefer to share one of my shomoirs, which stands for short story and memoir, a genre I have invented. For the sake of my sanity – and privacy. This way I can always claim: oh this part of the story is invented, or that part of the story is true. I have figured out it doesn‘t matter if I stick to the truth or not because my life is so crazy, people don‘t believe me anyway. So why bother? It‘s kind of hurtful when you tell a true story and people don‘t believe you. Also because trustworthiness is a really important value to me. Trust just makes life so much easier.
So where does my shomoir come from? I created a tiny5safari art project a couple of years ago while I was traveling all over Europe for 70 days, attending conferences for my PhD and visiting resilience centers (for my PhD and for my own sanity). While on the rail, and sometimes on the road, I took photos of insects in various places.
I grew very fond of my sightseeing insects (imagine a French 5-eyed church going spider diva) and magically organized two photo exhibitions based on that, one in St. Petersburg (Russia) and one in the UK (in beloved Brighton). Others followed later, because my tiny creatures got pretty popular, (well, not that much, but still) especially my Rubin fly (who later got stolen). The concept was such a joy that I kept working with it. I set up a street art installation called „backbone“ during Corona or just made up exhibitions in my shared apartment since Corona didn‘t allow for public exhibitions. (I’ll just share this much: What do woodworms have in common with stalagmites?)
And yes, secretly writing shomoirs about my experiences – there is an entire website nobody gets to see. As my brain is wandering to past times, the train brings us (me and my jar-dwellers) closer to our destination. Tiny flat islands off the coast which people call their home despite regularly getting swamped. Having grown up in the Austrian Alps with avalanches and masses of snow, I have some understanding for living in dangerous terrain, but accepting to frequently getting swamped, that‘s beyond my comprehension. Fun fact: Hallig Olond has a warning sign for foxes: Do not enter the island! They love bird eggs too much but these areas are a bird watcher’s heaven. I am not sure if the foxes ever read the signs. True! Check Wikipedia!
The citizens of Oland: I want to learn more about these in-between dwellers, half land – half ocean. What drives them, why do they chose to raise their children that way and how do they handle the fear. Handling fear is part of resilience thus I find it especially intriguing. Sitting on the train I can almost smell the ocean and can‘t wait to learn more. Hopefully these people won‘t speak too softly or the wind is too noisy, that way I can‘t hear them. I‘m hard of hearing – that is another reason I prefer quiet pets in jars – at least I don‘t miss their meowing of agony or anything similar. Apart from falling asleep easily, I am pretty forgetful and don‘t want my pets to starve, I need some that are very easy to handle. ADHD. Thus my jar. I can imagine you wonder what‘s in the jar, and which far away country I am traveling in. The mundane can sometimes be so exciting: It‘s the coast of northern Germany, I am based in Hamburg. And my pets, well, they are part of my tiny5safari project and are called pillbugs or woodlouse.
This is the first shomoir I published because of my fear of publishing (and lack of spelling skills – yet fully aware of my half sentences). And I am desperately looking for a paid job. So please be kind.
Elana Neil is doing a PhD in environmental humanities. Read more about Elana’s work and art here and on her website. She travels a lot, but not with pillbugs (but she might one day for fun, who knows?) She is looking for a proofreader and a job (where hearing and being on time is not essential), so please contact her if interested.
