A piece of beetle-eaten wood from a walk with a good friend; a feather from my last trip to see my mother; sheep wool from Avebury; a piece of stone from Cader Idris; some copper tinted rock from Alderley Edge; a pebble from St Michael's Mount, France; a wooden motif from my parent's wardrobe; a fragment of grandmother's wedding dress; the list is endless, as is the memory each evokes.