I was looking for a place that would discuss the souvenir as this kind of failed magical object. The souvenir collection occupies this strange place between a manufactured experience and found object art.  400 million people become tourists annually.

Where, oh where, to place your bits to discuss this phenomena? Perhaps Las Vegas... there is a large man-made lake with man-made beach... Perhaps I should call the Parks and Rec board and find out which beach in this area is man-made?  Perhaps I should send these to Leslie’s friend in Hawaii and get her to scatter them on Honolulu Beach?

I don’t know my neighbour very well. Last month she asked me to feed her pets while she was away for a week. On the bureau in the living room was a carefully placed shell collection. They all came from exotic places, they were large and expensive. Daily I would feed her fish and cat, stopping to look at the collection, wondering where she might have travelled for such fine souvenirs.

When the week of pet feeding was done she asked me in for tea. Suddenly she turned and made a sweeping gesture towards her shell collection. "Do you like my Salvage Beach?" she asked. "I have found all these shells at second hand stores. This one I got at the Sally Ann for $5... can you believe that?”  Instantly I knew where your Alluvion bits belonged. When I brought them for her to scatter on "Salvage Beach" she scurried to another room and placed a large preserved jar of the other item that she salvages from second hand stores: shell buttons.

The perfect place, Salvage Beach - after six months of setting out parameters for placing the Alluvion bits - gave me what I call “the head orgasm” - concept joy.  
Originally I wanted to do something on top of Marmolejo, 6108 metres high, something like a compass-card (wind-rose) ... But it was too windy and the headache was too strong to do anything up there. It would have made sense only on the peak. So coming back to our campsite I knew I had to do something else and it was spontaneous:     I found the spot: black lava gravel surrounded by white snow. On this spot        I found that bigger piece of rock and the smaller one and almost automatically - not to say "remote-controlled" because of thin air and exhaustion – I built a small table and started to play around on it with the shell pieces. I had not much time as the others were already working hard to clean up the campsite and we had to ski and climb down another 1500 vertical meters. So this line of shells I made came out instinctively and not intellectually. I liked it immediately.  
Dark cold day
Dots in water like the button objects I have left to throw in the tide

For some reason I count out nine 10 buttons
they are like TIDDLEYWINKS
I TOSS 9 out into the rising tide 
ONE just on the tide line…

They flip so easily twirling in the air before they disappear into the sultry gray seawater with rain dimpling it just like these objects
ALL of the shapes were excellent flippers! The triangles as well as the bigger round ones.…The tiny opalescent baby round ones were the merriest
to fly into the sea.
Sarah K.

It means the humble construction is an unusual surprising affirmation by an animal creative act winking at the passers by; saying it is a plausible intervention on implausible grounds meaning anything could happen in life.  A life that is comparable to either a stream or a walk in the woods.