Tuesday, 26 June 2007

beginnings

I made a dolls house when I was little, about 8 years old. I used a big old cardboard box (cardboard boxes have always been my favourite toys!)

This house I made didn't have any dolls in it, just lots and lots of miniature things I made from bits and bobs I had collected. Like empty film canisters, pen lids, bits of pottery and stones from outside, old note paper and magazines...

The room I worked on the most was the bedroom. I think it was my ideal bedroom, I made a canopy over the bed, chests of draws made from matchboxes with paper fastener handles, filled them full of tiny treasures, plant pots made from toothpaste lids with tiny tissue flowers. I embroidered miniature cushions, fitted a carpet, wove a small rug...

But my favourite part was a bookcase made of an old perfume box, and I spent hours lining the shelves with tiny books I made, each one complete with its own story or pictures.

The house doesn't exist any more, it fell to bits along the way, but I still have a few of the tiny books... somewhere.

A tiny book to remind myself of hours spent making tiny things for no reason other than to entertain myself.

4 comments:

Sarah said...

these are so cute

Riverlark said...

I am such a fan! Are you using a simple coptic binding?

tiffany... said...

oh! i, too, have such fond memories of making tiny tiny things for play.
i once turned an old matchbox gas station into a craft fair... tiny hanks of yarn, embroidered crafts, and such.
i guess we were well aware of our crafty destinies even when we were small!

amisha said...

small things are so appealing, aren't they? somehow the miniaturization is just irresistable, especially in books. xo