Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Moot the Owl

In 2008, my sister and mother went to Japan for a school excursion. It was a whirlwind tour and covered most of the country.

One of the things they brought back for me was a small blue owl they had bought at a markets. I named him Moot (following a conversation at school about Moot points) and he was my 'locker pet' for the duration of my final year at school.

At the end of 2009, I went on a family trip to New Zealand.

On the morning of the day we left to go, my sister bustled into my room (I have two sisters. This is the one that gave me the owl in the first place.), and said;

"Hey Brooke, do you have any Maccas toys lying around?"

Me: "What?"

Prue: "Well, when Danielle (one of her best friends) and her family went to Dubbo, they got this Maccas toy that was an orange, and they called him Orange and took photos of him everywhere and I think we should do one too."

Me: "Uh...(I looked around, and suddenly spied Moot sitting on my vanity), I've got Moot. Will he do?"

The rest is history.

Moot went everywhere I did over those three weeks. I took photos of him sitting next to flowers, rocks, beer - you name it. Well, no. Don't name it. But it was in the land of the long white sheep that Moot rose to legendary status as the Photobombing Owl.

His activity in general dropped off a little at the start of the new year - we got home and had three weeks to move house, and from that there stemmed the chaos generated by turning a house into Box City.

Moot still travelled from time to time. Family trips saw him surface occasionally, and he started living in the bottom of my handbag. I began to converse with him as though he was my own personal Wilson, and often engaged in arguments. It was really a form of self-therapy. I still do it.

He went with me to TAFE, and when I worked at a cafe, more than once.

He even formed part of the inspiration for my end-of-year Dress project at TAFE, appearing in the freeform lace that is my specialty.

Everywhere I went, if I met someone who looked at the plum-sized beanie quizzically, I'd tell them him story and what he did.

Now that I am in London, and previously in Paris, he has surfaced in my photographs, although last night I had to aknowledge that he had been putting the the miles, and was beginning to show wear for it. He's got a small abraison that, if left untended, will turn into a hole, and was looking a little dirty.

Wanting to dish out some TLC, I gave him a spongebath.

I think he's shrunk.

On the other hand, I won't have to sew as much of a patch on the abraison as before. But he's still significantly smaller.

I think it will mellow over time.

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