Today I woke up to rain. I love it when it rains. It gives me even more reason to go through my art supplies and go through a creative frenzy. Instead of going through my creative zen-like routine, I decided to clean and organize my art corner before my friend came over. When I was done, I sat down at my grandmother's desk and began to work on my drawing for the day. I was having a hard time figuring out what I should draw, but then I saw the clown doll sitting with my cast of Mizzles. My grandmother made that doll.
I've had it since I was about 3 years old. She used to love telling me the story about how I got that doll. She had originally made the doll for my cousin, Kim. But my mom had brought me over and I immediately became attached to it. She didn't have the heart to take it away from me. She let me keep it and made another for my cousin. At some point, the clown became part of the collection of stuffed animals that I took to my classroom to use as still life. When she passed away, I immediately went searching for it and brought it home. It was during the writing of my thesis I had realized how much I was like my grandmother. She had made dolls from socks and at some point I began that same obsession. So, it seems very clear that my obsession with making things from socks is definitely genetic.
Today's drawing has my grandma's first clown doll, which is missing one of its pompoms from its right hand, sitting with my first Mizzle and squirrel friend. About a month before my grandma passed away, she gave me the pattern for the clown doll. I'm going to have to pull it out and make one sometime soon.
What a wonderful connection between you and your grandmother, and what a lovely telling.
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