A Garden of Virtues

Today, on the ride from Albuquerque to Tucumcari, I imagined what it would be like to be in my doll room again. I was overwhelmed with a delightful feeling. The small sun room has become a fantasy place of delights, already abounding with more dolls than I can count. Today I looked out over the New Mexico landscape of small twisted bushes and red hard-packed earth and thought of Leslie. I knew I needed some time to be with my husband, to re-learn myself, and it has been an odyssey. I have been thinking of expanding the scope of A Garden of Virtues in a way that will continue to fulfill its purpose for me, and that may include other dear toys from the past, experimental decor and clothing to rouse a sense of nostalgia and preservation. Already when I enter the sun room it seems like an unreal place, a place from a dream with objects from my past. I collect and create without knowing exactly what I do, or why. If I knew perhaps I wouldn't do it. I am not reliving my past,

Childhood dolls, I can't wait to see Elkie again and Mimi for the first time.

Made with <3 not talent. Dollies don't care. They much prefer stuff their mommies make than the store-bought, anyway.

The cicadas chirp every afternoon now. Their sound scratches like brambles and burns like sunlight. I never thought I would share this with Leslie.   But here we are. This looks like a ball-jointed doll. It looks like the country. And it looks like me. I had to put us both in vintage jewelry. I'm obsessed.