Collections - whether of coins, stamps, Japanese fans or in a friend's case square bread-and-butter plates wallpapering an entire room - are marvellous because of the infinite variety possible within strict parameters.
I collect Jokers from card packs. The first one - the Joker carrying a cartoon bomb with a lighted fuse - turned up under the cell mattress on the only night (in the distant past) I spent locked up (long story spared). It was the sole visual/intellectual solace in that barren scary space besides the heartbreaking graffiti.
The Joker seemed ruefully apt in the circumstances. After debating whether to leave it for the next miserable prisoner, I decided it was meant for me and took it as a souvenir.
Now the Joker collection numbers in the hundreds, within which sub-categories can identified. For instance musicians, trick cyclists, jugglers, animals and downright idiots feature prominently. Their uniform size, shape and function makes laying the cards out in orderly groups very satisfying - each a unique image yet contained within a standard form.
The Great Plate Exhibition, currently at the Yvonne Rust Gallery at Whangarei's Arts Quarry, does a similar thing.