Sophie gave me this papercut over the weekend and it took my breath away. It took my breath away because it is a tiny, magical world, filled with wonder, details, dimension, and light.
It took my breath away because, and she couldn't know this, it is similar to something I often imagine in my mind's eye.
It took my breath away because my daughter made it. She envisioned this scene and translated it into a tangible piece. Sophie has such a gift for coaxing ideas from her mind and letting them take shape, yet little time to do so. These past several years it seems her schedule has been dominated by volleyball, schoolwork, and sleep.
So I've been grateful for the end of her school volleyball season and the brief hiatus before club season begins...it's lovely to have a rested, creative Sophie around the house.
She's greatly inspired by the work of Elsita, an admiration we all share around here. Are you familiar with Elsita's work, dear reader? I sometimes think she wandered down from Mt. Olympus, her touch upon this world so evokes the divine.
The other day Sophie was cleaning her room and found this little drawing from when she was eight or nine years old. I love how you can see the underwater detail of the little twig paddle. It tells me something about her.
Oh, paper--the magic and possibility of a fresh, clean sheet! It's the place where scribbles, blobs, and stick figures grow into greater ideas. Where children learn to be quiet and alone with their thoughts, where words and images appear and take the observer a million miles away.
No matter how sophisticated we become, no matter how advanced, there is nothing like the weight and heft of paper. Nothing like its cool creaminess or buttery softness. Nothing like the experience of setting a pencil upon it, or watching color seep into it. There's nothing like trying to bend a line until it is just right. Or folding paper to create a shape. Or making a series of small, precise cuts to release an image which was always trapped therein.
With paper, the possibilities are infinite. I'm glad it's a part of Sophie's world.
