Perils, pearls, and a whole lot of glitz

I promise a better picture of the Crystal Gallery as soon as I work out how to switch the flash off Craig's camera.

Now, for those who know me, know I have a tendency to lose things. I had just been patting myself on the back for not having lost a single pair of glasses, for keeping my passport in the safe, and for being really quite good with spending money. I am familiar enough with Rajasthan to now say, “I will come back”. And then if I find myself longing for the item in the middle of the night, I do.

But today I lost my soft blue leather pencil case. I don’t know how. I have no idea where. One minute I thought it was just where I assumed it was, and the next it was gone. Everything is replaceable except for my fountain pen, an on-gift from Judd, who was once given it as a barmitzvah present. And not to forget the rubber that I’ve worn down to a 5 cent piece over god knows how many years.

The perils of attachment are haunting me.

Almost as compensation, I started reading a book which I’m savouring. Not for its absorbing, suck me in, and transport-me-compulsively story, but rather for its ability to coax me back to its pages with humour, skilful language, love of travel, and self-denigrating all too human frailty. A travel memoir. My two favourite genres rolled into one. Eat, Pray, Love. One Woman’s Search for Everything across Italy, India and Indonesia. As the author Elizabeth Gilbert explains, the three I’s.

Not to neglect the work. The Crystal Gallery is crystalising. Or something like that. There’s no through draft in the place, which is on the second level and has no windows. I go in there and sweat like I’m in a full-on sauna. The pencil won’t stay in my fingers, the lead won’t write on the page which is damp from my arm. My notebook looks like it’s been through a tsunami. And as I look at this elaborate, extravagant stuff – imagine a crystal bed! – all I can think is that my long-dead bobba, who kept all her furniture covered in plastic, would have loved it. Absolutely loved it.

I can never leave quick enough.