I lost my paper girl last week. It happened like this:
First, I decided to make a dragon, but I couldn't find my old paper dragon from years ago. All I could find was this claw-footed tub from an
illustration for a children's book I started several years ago and never
finished. The tub is made out of white paper, a tiny piece of silver
gift-wrapping paper for the faucet, the corner of a terry-cloth
washcloth, and tiny scraps of yellow and orange paper for the little
duck.
I found the claw-footed tub because I had used the claw feet for the dragon. All of which got me no closer to finding the dragon.
I was forced to design a new dragon from scratch, which has turned out to be a good thing because I am finding some wonderful dragon details I had omitted before, like that arrow-shaped pointy tip on the tail. I had finally sketched the first pencil draft of a new dragon when I realized I wanted the dragon to be of a size that would fit the paper girl. So I went looking for her.
And couldn't find her anywhere.
After I had looked in all the logical places, and then the impossible
places, I sat at my desk with that feeling you get when you can't find
your wallet. I wondered if I could possibly recreate her so that she
would be just the same? I didn't think I could. I didn't even have a hard copy of her, or a tracing.
Could I go running out to my husband with my tearful plea for help? What would 911 say? Would anyone understand how bereft I felt?
She's only six inches tall, I thought. She's too tiny to fend for herself in the real world. I pictured her in the recycle bucket, but it was too terrible a thought to contemplate.
I even tried to hurtle myself through the five stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance, but couldn't manage to get out of denial.
Suddenly, I went looking for rabbit, and couldn't find rabbit, either! At least they're together, I thought. But where? where?
Where had I seen them last? It didn't hit me until I realized that Watch the dog was missing, too. Oh, oh! The last time I had seen the paper girl, she and rabbit and Watch were hurrying off into the world.
I lifted the lid of the scanner, and, yes, yes, there they all were!
Oh, I felt the most wonderful sense of reprieve! Never mind that they were all clearly miffed at me. Such tossing of heads and flipping of ears and licking of paws. Such dark glances in my direction!
And I'm afraid this is all to say that I am spending most of my time these days looking for lost things. I have three posts in the making, none of which I have been able to complete because of lost things: one lost book (paperback, thin), one lost pocket doll (one inch tall, pink), one lost dragon (paper, purple), and, most importantly, one lost energy reserve (not sure what it looks like but I want it back).
I know I have slowed down to a snail's pace, but I'm actually very busy looking for things.
Oh, now, wait just a minute! Surely, the glass on my scanner is not so dirty that lying on it for several days straight requires a bath! Or does it?
Well, I am off to wash the sheets and do the breakfast dishes and clean the glass on the scanner. And then I will continue my search for lost things.
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