I have been in something of a creative funk lately; probably brought on by the need to work intensively to meet a gallery deadline. The work itself was the recreation of some old favourites, so no problem there, but the stress of getting everything fired and finished in time, with no room for error, took its toll and I am currently unable to summon up the energy to create anything new.
So, once again, I have turned to my beloved doll's house for respite. My mother used to to retreat into her greenhouse or garden to avoid tackling unpleasant chores - I retreat to my doll's house. And the more time I spend working on it, the more I come to feel that she (definitely a she) has a personality, with emphatic likes and dislikes. For instance, she has no interest in being 'perfect' - she does not want to be a miniature replica house with everything to scale and not a single item out of place. She embraces the odd and out of kilter - she wants to be a repository of memories, thoughts, and feelings.
For instance, I discovered a third fireplace I had made 30 years ago (goodness, what an industrious child I was!). Initially, I had rejected this one because it didn't fit with my plan, specifically for the Gothic library. But when I leant it up against the chimney breast it was so obviously 'right' that nothing else would have worked. It is definitely slightly too large and dominates the room, but the house has absorbed its crazy marbled pattern and strange design and made it a part of herself.
My attitude towards doll's houses was cristalised very early on, at the age of 11, when I first read Dolls and Dolls' Houses, by Constance Eileen King. She was the first to open my eyes to the magic of tiny things, the eclectic jumble of memories and forgotten histories that antique dolls' houses represent. I know now that I will never be a collector of houses, or a serial decorator who tears down one style to install another on a whim. I think this house and I are in it for the longterm. Every now and again I try items of furniture in different rooms - offering them up to the house as if propitiating a goddess. I know when she is pleased and when she is not. Rejected gifts collect in a box, destined to be used in other projects that are less personal.