The Story of A Little Tree

Every now and then I like to pull out fanciful junk I keep around the house and see what kind of illustrative tableau I can create. With some, I start with an image in my head that I want to create, and then find the textures and colors required. At other times the image comes to me while I’m picking up the items and admiring their qualities. And then there are instances where I stare at things, pick them up, arrange and re-arrange, and after days of thinking and associating, something finally comes through.

This particular image came to me after handling two objects–a hair stick and a comb that were hidden away towards the back of my bathroom closet. I haven’t touched these things in the years since I started cutting my hair short, but of course being the pack rat that I am I couldn’t stand to get rid of them.

When I work this way, most of the images I create end up looking like something out of a children’s book. I’m not sure if that’s good or bad, but I’d rather avoid self-critical assessment at this point. Following a line of thinking to it’s endpoint is far more productive for than evaluating whether or not it’s good. Looking back lets me see what sticks; sometimes that takes days, sometimes weeks, sometimes months, sometimes years.