As the day of the bunny approaches, and the bunny drive comes to a swift finish (thank you, everyone) I thought I'd take some time between drawing with Sharpies and snacking on Swedish Berries, to pull out an old friend and snap some pictures of George.
You may remember George being mentioned before, as he is one of my first -of many- stuffed toys I had growing up. He is pretty special considering that I am not the type of person to hang onto just anything, as there's a certain something about him that I almost refuse to part with. His character, to me, is a wonderful reminder of that special bond we, as children, create with our toys. Where imagination takes shape.
With his visible seams, mangled felt tongue, scuffed up pink nose, and tattered silk bow, I appreciate the craft that has held George together for so many years. His fragility is what makes him beautiful in my eyes, as it glazes out the unfortunate reality that he looks similar to an old sock found from behind the dryer. He is who he is and no matter his state he'll always remain my George.
This, my dear is why I love making toys.
Post a Comment