shavings and dust

among the many things that I love about my family is our unshakable need to make things. Yesterday in passing I asked my mother if she had any books that might have instructions for making origami animals. The directness of the making process for origami is so satisfying, the only tool used is one’s hand, the only material a piece of paper. I only know how to fold cranes, though, and it has become a nervous habit, I find myself folding cranes in the places I used to smoke: in meetings, in bars, sitting around the fire, watching television. I though perhaps I should expand my repertoire.

Thirty or so years of being teachers and artists means that my parents have thousands (this is not an exaggeration) of books in their house. There is no subject that can not be researched here: gardening, Lincoln, the history of surgery, food, and, as it turns out, origami. Paper folding books were procured, old magazines were culled, and square paper was cut (see below).

Last night we sat in front of the fire and folded paper. I started with a fish, which looked nice folded from an advertisment for pasta, and a "sleeping dog," which was not particularly satisfying.

My sister (who is also here for a few days) started with a frog, which was a little advanced, and did not, initially, seem right:

So I tried my hand at one, which worked out a little better. The interesting thing about folding paper shapes is that, like so many other things, there is a set of steps that must be followed, in order, and a deviation from that proves vexing.

My mom was working on a butterfly, so I joined her, and we had a pair of butterflies:

Next was a "star box," which needs to be made with paper that is solid on one side and colored on the other. Having the print on one side from the magazine took away, a bit, from the finished product. The curse of all that art school is the deeply sown habit of looking critically at every product of my hands.

Then my sister showed us how to fold little paper boxes, which were by far my favorite. Easy to make, very satisfying when finished, and infinitely expandable, so that a set of nesting boxes can be made with nothing more than a sheet of paper. I see a LOT of paper boxes in my future...

This is my kind of cold night, sitting in front of the fire with family, making things and laughing, (occasionally) not making frogs, drinking beer and telling stories. Though I am missing home quite a lot, having been gone for so long, and though I am looking forward to getting back in the classroom and back in the studio, this is the kind of recharging moment that is so vital.