Reaching Out

I have to walk through the dollroom to get to the kitchen.  Several times each day I walk past my collection of dolls and feel a sort of loss of connection.  I swore I would never have shelf-sitters, and what has become a dreadful concept to me is now a reality.  Or is it? 

Perhaps it isn’t quite gone yet.  I haven’t put them away in dark boxes in the closet or put them on the market for a few shillings.  I have mused on it briefly a few frightening times, and something kept telling me to just wait.  Years have gone by and I am still waiting.  Waiting for the dolly question to be asked or the dolly reconnection to happen.  Something…anything.

This morning I wanted to start thinking about what to do.  The first step is to write about it.  Perhaps a daily dose of writing will bring a direction.  I am hoping it will.