When the going gets tough, the not-so-tough make toys?

I stayed up a little past my usual bedtime last night (after Meeting, which didn't go as late as I feared) to work on this:

It's another one of the Jessica Hutchinson patterns. (It's too bad she's not printing that book any more; I've gotten far more than my purchase price's worth of fun out of it.)



She's based on the Odd Fellow pattern, except instead of being an Odd Fellow, she's a Perky-Goth Bumblebee Girl.

Perky-Goth because of the black, pink, and cream color scheme, and the ponytails (that's what makes her Perky rather than just plain Goth)
Bumblebee because of the stripes (yeah, yeah, pink is not a bumblebee color. Whatever.)
Girl because - well, the ponytails. And she has long eyelashes.

She's not done yet - I need to do the arms and legs. I think I'm going to do the first few arm-rows out of pink (to simulate sleeves) and do the legs out of black (to simulate leggings and boots; I might even embroider "bootlaces" on the feet. Or, do a single row of pink close to the foot to look like pink socks peeking out of the boot tops.

I don't know why I've been on such a toy-making tear lately - most of them (except Wilbur) have been knitted. I think part of it is the nearly-instant gratification - you can really see how fast they work up, and you have a finished product in just a couple hours' work, instead of months like a sweater, or weeks, like socks. (It's taking me weeks to finish socks these days). I also think it's a relatively "low-stakes" exercise - if the colors look wonky, it's okay, because it's a toy. If the knitting isn't perfect, it's okay, it's wabi-sabi, and I'm the only one who's going to see them anyway.

I also think maybe it's sort of a longing to be able to reclaim the ability to play. As I've said before, I miss that - I miss the childhood inventiveness I had, where no one in the house was allowed to throw out any kind of empty container without checking with me first, to see if it could be used for some kind of dollhouse item. (Lamps: empty toothpaste tube cap attached to an orphaned board-game pawn with clay. Planters: those little thin plastic half-and-half tubs from restaurants, filled with clay, and with "plants" made from florist's wire and painted masking tape). And those things were beautiful to me - they were not perfect, they were certainly not as nice as the simulacra of the real items available in miniature shops. But I somehow was able to overlook the imperfections and enjoy the items - probably because I had made them. As an adult, I'm a lot more critical of my work - be it teaching, writing, the clothes I knit or sew, or my quilts. I'd like to find my way back to that part of me that can look at something and just be filled with glee because I made it, and it's good.