A chip of bark under a Juniper tree. An abandoned toy in a second hand shop. A torn piece of cloth from a stranger’s old coat.
My art dolls and objects always start out with some imperfect thing. Call it a flaw if you like; I prefer to call it a history. After all, we may come into this life perfect, but once we acquire even a smidgeon of a past–a history–we are perfect no longer.
But a lot more interesting, don’t you think?
Haven’t you ever looked at an old woman and wondered about the long story frozen inside her? Haven’t you ever wanted to ask a homeless man what his favorite toy was when he was a child?
There is only one history of importance, and it is the history of what you once believed in, and the history of what you came to believe in, and what cities or countries you saw, and what trees you remembered. -Kay Boyle