why do we do the things we do?…

So, I’ve been working on a project for more than a year now, mostly in my head. It’s a trio of book dolls based on poems I’ve written which are based on characters in the Günter Grass novel The Tin Drum. (Pretty meta for poem-y book arts, right?) Among the plans: a pull-out eel, skirt pages and, um, a sort of fabric molting situation.

It’s going to take a while longer, but I thought I’d post some in-progress photos to 1) prove I’ve been up to something book-y and 2) provide myself a public record of progress that will hopefully inspire/shame me into finishing someday.

But before I do, a project like this gets me thinking: Why do we follow our creative impulses anyway? To many, they probably seem unimportant, or silly, or self-indulgent. And maybe they are. That said, there’s no stopping it. I couldn’t let this project go; my project manager side won’t drop it. It may take me three more years to finish, but I don’t care. I’ve seen them complete in my imagination, so that’s all there is to it. Thank goodness for impossible energy.

Grandmother, Mother, Son

Grandmother with hair

Mother with hair and partial dress

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3 thoughts on “why do we do the things we do?…

  1. So true. I don’t know if you remember the zoo haiku book I started after I took the kids to the zoo when they were very little. I have the haiku done and the files are saved in the computer, ready to be printed and assembled, but have I actually put the book together? No. I keep going back to it in my mind, but I have yet to go back to it physically. BUT I refuse to give it up 🙂

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