11 June 2008
Gosh, I just feel so validated
So who knew that God's eyes (ojos de Dios) would be making a comeback?
Not to brag or anything, but I did.
At least I decided they were back for ME last month, when I re-taught myself the process and started obsessively making them and planning to teach my girls how to make them at camp this summer. I wanted to hang ojos all through my house. Color, color, bursts and blasts of it popping against the great expanse of whiteness I've been painting everywhere. Do you know that I'm even painting my floors white?
I was geared up to go into mass production and present bright happy handmade ojos to all of the 2008 spring crop of babies being harvested by my fertile friends, but I lost my nerve. I think it happened when I gave one to a dear young woman I know and love who was getting married and heading off for a rustic week of honeymooning in the back of a Suburban and then for two months living at a boy scout camp. (Say it with me: WOWWWWW.) Doesn't she seem like the perfect campy candidate for one of my giant eyes? But her response was one of confusion; she was definitely underwhelmed. And lest you think that's because it was the only gift I gave her to get her started down that gravel road to marital bliss, I should say that I also busted my piggy bank for her AND printed her wedding announcements, gratis. "I'm older than Mod Podge," I reminded myself, pointer finger self-waggling. "How can I presume to know anymore what's in? what's fresh? Who really wants a weird God's eye from a ol' lady?" You see how it is when the mean-spirited aging devils decide to pick on you? I for one am too quick to follow their lead.
Was I wrong to doubt myself? Of course! But not because Readymade has just put my latest obsession back on the cool map. But because I AM older than Mod Podge, and so I've been around the crafting block a few times, and so I ought to know a little something about what's timely . . . or find myself scheduled for a lucky guess now and then. But even if ojos de Dios were never of interest to DIYers again, I still love them. I love being reminded by the vibrant eyes of wood and wool and silk and cotton and acrylic that I am watched over, loved, and—probably more often than I could stand to know—chuckled at by the Source of all creativity, delight, and benevolence.
I think I'll collect some sticks and break out my yarn stash again.
So who wants a God's eye now?