BEYOND COLLECTING
Date: 06/06/98
I never considered myself an artistic person. Actually, I never went near an art class after discovering my ten left thumbs in the third grade. It wasn't that I couldn't appreciate the art of others -- it was just that I was so totally inartistic that it wasn't worth discussing.
The day I bought my first doll (to be absolutely honest, I bought three, but who's counting?), I discovered a passionate appreciation for that particular form of art. And that was all it was, really, as I frivolously acquired further examples of the talents of many wonderful artists . . . and more artists . . . and more artists. My poor children were sure it was the onset of senility and anxiously awaited whichever would arrive first: blithering idiocy or the credit card bills.
After a time, however, simple appreciation from afar wasn't enough and I started fiddling with the hair, adding and subtracting elements of the costume, and devising unique ways in which to display these lovely creations. Gracious, I was almost becoming artistic!
And I grew even more bold! I began to change the clothes completely, cut the hair, add hats or parasols or books, take stuffing out of the bodies to create a more svelte look. Finally, I recreated a very large artist doll, replacing the arms and legs with more delicately sculptured pieces; changing the eyes to a more natural color; crowning her with a more realistic wig; and completely remaking her dress. I have been told she is stunning and I am more than pleased with the results.
How wonderful to discover within oneself a knack so long hidden. I take great joy in creating just the look, just the setting for each doll and am thankful to have found an outlet for whatever creativity I may possess. What comes next? Maybe in years to come I will display a doll of my very own creation. A sculpting class couldn't hurt anyway, even if all ten thumbs are slightly arthritic now. Grandma Moses did it . . .
