Id completely forgotten that I had this blog. Does anyone even read blogs anymore? I mostly use hand written journals and diaries but even those get neglected a lot of the time too.
During the pandemic, which over here in Argentina was for a fucking long time, I mostly spent my time crocheting amigurumi dolls, that I would later sell once the pandemic was over. I enjoyed making them, although towards the end it started to feel more like work and less like a hobby so eventually I gave that up entirely. Now I have a craft room full of yarn, stuffing and a few scattered dolls nobody wanted to buy. No idea what I'm going to do with it all. There is also, beads, bobs, trinkets, ribbons, fabric scraps, lots of wrapping and tissue paper, gift bags and a whole lot more crap that's just been sitting in my craft room for about 3-ish years.
All the things I purchased were for my doll making. For awhile I even made cloth dolls, which were kind of cute and sold fairly well, but when the amigurumi fad hit, it was all anyone wanted to buy. Now I look like a borderline hoarder. Something I'm definitely not.
This is my very first completed amigurumi. She's terribly wonky and missing all the details Id later go on to incorporate in other dolls, but shes a favorite and I still have her.
I made all my dolls without mouths; that was on purpose. I felt that a smiling doll somehow invalidates a child's emotions. If a child is sad, then the doll should be sad with the child, giving the little person someone to share their feelings with. Without a mouth, the child can transfer their own feelings on the doll's face.
Turns out, it was a great idea. Id explain it to the parents when they asked about the lacking of a mouth, but the kids seem to grasp the intention right away. Girl dolls sold well, boy dolls did not, unless they were super heroes. Pink skinned dolls sold well, brown skinned dolls did not, even among brown children. I guess there is some social commentary there to be made, I don't know; all I know is that I have a few brown colored dolls nobody wants.
My mother, ( may she rest in peace) adored my dolls. She really would light up whenever I showed her a new one. It was the only time she would praise me so naturally there was the incentive to make more. I know that after she died without that incentive and feeling like the hobby had turned into a job were the reasons I stopped. I tell people its because my hands/fingers hurt too much now. Its partially true, nothing that an ibuprofen couldn't help with.
Its mostly now I have no one to make dolls for anymore so there doesn't seem to be any good reason for it. It kind of makes me feel sad. I liked getting those complements from my mother, more so than from strangers who could appreciate the craftsmanship more than her feeble eyes were able to.
No matter how old you are (and trust me, I'm old), you never stop wanting your parent's approval or praise.
I guess that's all I have to say for now, I came here with the intention of writing about something entirely different but I ended up talking about dolls and my mother. Funny where your thoughts can take you. At least I found my blog again, maybe the all of 9 people who used to read it will be happy to see it back up again.
