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.
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?