Maybe it was it’s delicacy that appealed to me. I saw the elaborately decorated, hollowed out egg trinkets sitting on the shelves of a small shop and I decided I wanted one. I was about six, I wasn’t serious, and I stated my desire under the pretense that it wasn’t going to happen.
My sister gave it to me for my birthday. It’s a small, light pink egg on a skinny gold stand. It’s barley over two inches tall. All the exposed egg shell has been painted pink and glittered. The stand’s base is flat and rounded with swirling impressions on it like an ancient coin. The actual column of the stand tapers at the top and is impressed with a swirling pattern. At the top the stand, little gold leaves form a small bowl for the egg to sit.
The egg has been cut in half in a sort of curved diagonal, and the two pieces are hinged together. Small pearl beads and gold rope line the edges where the egg has been cut. There is also a larger pearl in the center of the top edge, creating the impression of button. The egg is topped with a circle of small pearls surrounding a clear gem in a gold, crown like setting. Designing the egg to open must have been an expression of the crafter’s skill, since it can hardly hold anything, not even a nickel. Nonetheless, the inside has been elegantly lined with polyester, waiting to cushion absolutely nothing.
Though I rarely took the egg out of its case, it still sustained some damage. A small piece of the shell cracked off, forming a hole in the back of the shell, near the base on the right. I was playing with the egg while it was in the case thinking if it dropped, nothing would happen. I was wrong. This event convinced me to keep the egg in the box and out of sight. Probably years have gone by between openings.
I have no idea where the second injury came from. Like I said, when I took the egg out of its box for this project it had been sitting in there for years. I looked at the back and one of the little pearl beads was loose. I feel like my sister has something to do with it because we share a room, and she once told me she had been looking at the egg. I didn’t think anything of her comment then, but now I feel like she was being a little suspicious…
Mostly what I see of the egg everyday is its navy blue box. Stickers on the front of the box read “Kingspoint Designs,” and its item number. On the top is another sticker, roughed around the edges, with instructions on how to take the egg out of the box. I’ve taken the egg out without following the directions and it’s just the same.
The Materials of History, Thought, and Art 
I like that you focus on the injuries the egg has sustained over the years, rather than how the craftsman intended it to be. The additional characteristics from these injuries personalize the egg to you, and you associate it with someone close to you (your sister). I think that the fragility of objects and the ability of them to be altered can be a desirable and an undesirable characteristic, depending on how the alterations occur and who causes them . So as the properties of the object change, so does its meaning. Perhaps the second injury of the egg will act as a binding agent between you and your sister, one stronger than when she gave it to you.
Nabi,
I was drawn to your blog post because the vibrant colors of the egg trinket stood out to me. I love the photographs you took, they do an excellent job of showcasing the artistry and uniqueness of the egg. Reading your blog post was very enjoyable. I really appreciate your connection to the trinket. I like how you used the blog post to work out why the egg is so fascinating to you. The sort of mystery that surrounds the egg- where the second injury came from, where your sister got it from, makes your connection to the egg ever so complex and intricate. It’s fascinating that you’ve held onto this object for so long.