I sit in my studio, while the family putters around, dog barks, chickens cluck, kids in and out. The sound of life. A messy, but oh! so good, life. Thoughts come and go: "Did I took something out for dinner? (who am I kidding, I hardly ever cook!); is the laundry still in from two days ago?; what was the last time I ate?"…etc. Un-gathered, un-tidy, un-ironed thoughts of a crazy doll maker who has too much to do, and too little time. Always from one thing to the next.
Such thoughts of course, shouldn't even be shared, but the ones that concern this post are the ones that pop into my head when I stare at the little lady in my hands: "Where do you all come from?". A question I often ask my dolls, unanswered so far.
Most dolls stem from the imagination of the doll maker, that is true. But I happen to believe that every now and then comes one from somewhere else. Not imagined, not forecasted, not even anticipated. She just suddenly appears. You start working and you find yourself with someone on your legs, sitting, looking at you, and telling you stories you are positive have never heard before. Such dolls are, to me, extremely special. I like to imagine them as travellers from a distant land, another dimension, and I treat them with utmost respect.
I never suggest clothing, I let them speak. I don't draw their outfits until they are dressed and they are done. I don't even hear their name until they whisper it to me. And they always do, they always talk to me in such little whispers. They are the opposite of how I work, but when one has visitors of such importance, one has to remain pliable and gentle.
Miss Marion has just decided which fabric I should use, and has been giving me hints all day. I am letting her guide my hands, and we shall see what comes of her ideas. I think she is quite adorable, so the end result should do justice to her sweet disposition. I will come back to show you what we made together. Hope you are having a nice week.
**Marion and I played with the shadows today, and let me tell you, it is very hard to photograph her with that hair, that fabric and such a dark day. She was a trooper though!.