A Twinkle

SAM_4469 The day we went to the highlands, I brought my littlest chinahead in my purse.  She is the head I found in London and I made a tiny leather body for.

SAM_4476 Here is Chatty Cathy standing on the wardrobe.  The view from my bed.  The box behind her is THE BOX.  It has my remaining dolls on the top 1/4 area, the rest is bags of their clothes and accessories.

How do I feel about her?  A remembrance of my childhood.  If I examine her, nuances of those times come back in sweet little waves of nostalgia.  But I cannot say that she is the one I lost. I cannot say that I can deal with her non poseable body.  I admire her childlike legs and knobby knees, her lovely modelled hands.  But over all, she cannot do much other than stand and sit and I don’t feel the pull I wish I did.  I want her to mean more, I almost feel the potential, but then it fades as fast as it almost begins.  Putting her up on the wardrobe is the next stop to putting her in the box with the others.  I don’t regret her purchase and I do feel good about the experience, but at this point and time, I am not searching for new doll experiences.

SAM_4477 Rosey’s room remains by my bed.  I still like that she has a place to call her own. 

SAM_4479Yesterday morning the rare Scottish sun came streaming in and I looked up at Rosey.  I liked what I saw and took a photo. 

SAM_4482The warm sunlight on her lovely wood skin appealed to me and for the first time quite a while, I felt the need to interact directly with her, not just in thoughts.  Look at the difference between the last two photo’s.  She went from looking dull and bored with waiting and then suddenly burst into liveliness, ready to play because my interest focussed on her.  This time, instead of me looking for a twinkle of life in her eyes, she was looking for one in mine!

SAM_4484 What a lovely girl she is. 

SAM_4486 Rosey in the sunlight  I adore her.  I adore that I do not have to worry about the sun turning her skin a ghastly yellow.  She continues to be the best poser, the most unusual and the liveliest doll I have ever known. 

SAM_4490SAM_4491  Sigh.  That outfit is one that I made for my old Evie.  It brought back a flood of memories.  It looks so sweet on Rosey.

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I think she is not going to go back to just laying there waiting for me to get out of my dolly stagnation.

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Stagnation

I haven’t dropped off the face of the earth.  Really.

I have been in a dormant state in my dolly world is all.  I have taken on a new creative direction and it has been all consuming.  I am enjoying it so much, I lose track of time.

This doesn’t mean I have stopped loving Rosie or enjoy looking at dolls in any way.  Rosie sits with me everyday, we still communicate and my imagination still moves quietly in my little dolly world.  I am just not actively sewing or playing right now.  I was feeling a lot of guilt about it, but once I quit trying to manipulate my interests because I think I ought to be doing this or that, I relaxed and eased into just doing what truly interests me in the moment.  I know that these fanciful directions serve needs I often neglect.

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I wanted to just re-connect a little bit though, because as I suspected, I feel the urge to return with a fresh mind and outlook on my dolly realm.  In so many ways, I think I really needed a break from it. 

I have not re-opened THE BOX since I placed it up on top of the wardrobe.  I look at it every time I am in bed and I muse about my dolls in there.  Yorik, Evie, Audrey, Hammie, Miette and a few others.  I think about how much they meant to me, how wonderful it has been to know them.  Oddly, my feelings about them have not changed since they went into THE BOX.  I thought I would either completely lose interest or I wouldn’t be able to stand that they were in there.  So far, I only feel amusement that this situation exists.

Chatty Cathy moved up to the wardrobe too, but she is just standing in front of THE BOX.  I look at her every day and muse about my childhood and that long repressed desire for her.  I think about my old Evie and wondering if she is okay.  These are the days I am wondering a lot about how I got here, where I am now and where I might be heading down the road.  I don’t push hard on it though, I want it all to be whatever it will be.  I have been drowning in my own dolly drama for so long I stopped having fun.  This doll, that doll, should have, shouldn’t have…..it’s all over now.  I feel released somehow from my own tyranny.

I was an artist.  I don’t know if one ever stops being something so dear to one’s being.  But I don’t draw anymore.  It’s like when I pick up a pencil, all has already been explored and I am only mentally copying what I know.  It’s that way with my dollies too.  I can play with them and sew a new dress and photograph another story, but I am just copying what I know.  The inspiration has dwindled.  Not the love of it, just the inspiration to look at it with the enthusiasm I once had.  I refuse to feel guilty about it, inspiration cannot revive if I force it.  I just noticed that lately, my eye glances at Rosie more and more and I muse over her.  I recently went on a day tour to the Highland and at the last minute grabbed the tiny china-head and put her in the pocket of my purse.  I surprised myself with that one.

I have a feeling this stagnation all started to brew when I stopped buying new dolls.  I stopped going on long internet searches for the next passion, the next thrill of finding a doll that would be all and end all or at least give me something new to think about for awhile.  lol.  What a difficult thing to stop but I have and now I rarely think of new dolls.  I know the thrill would come galloping back if I so much as glanced at eBay, so I refrain.  So then what?  If I am keeping the flame from burning out of control, then what direction am I taking? 

Musing.