Perception, Stuffed Animals, and Coming Apart at the Seams

Mobiles: Blue Viola and Follow Me | Hanging Art Mobiles by Mark Leary Designs

On perception

“But it’s broken,” cried sparrow.

“Or maybe,” replied crow, “it’s opening to new possibilities.”

Thoughts while making

When I was a kid, I had four stuffed animals. I loved them. A lot.

One was a dog. I forget his name. He was black + brownish, the white of his matted fur colored tan by hugs. He lost his nose.

There was monkey. Again, I forget her name. She was soft + had big ears. She lost an eye. And even her tail.

There was frog. Again, no name. He was almost as big as me + rainbow striped. His stuffing came out of his stomach.

And then there was Curious George. It’s easy to remember his name, since it was written in yellow across his chest. He had a red hat + red shirt. He lost an arm. Sorry, George.

I loved each one of these animals, yet I also spun monkey around by her tail, throwing her repeatedly across the room. I leaped off the bed, pile driving onto an unsuspecting frog. I would whirl George in circles by his little arm. And, I’m not proud to admit it, but I tried to create a secret hiding spot under dog’s nose.

- When dog lost that nose, my mom stitched on another; one made of felt, doubled up, soft and warm.

- When monkey lost her eye, mom had me pick out a colored button to give her an extra special way to see.

- When frog literally came apart at the seams, my gramma made him a pair of pants. She called them “snazzy” and, even as a kid, I agreed.

- And when George lost his arm and monkey her tail, mom sewed them back on with particular care, inviting me to maybe think the next time before I decided to whirl them around and throw them across the room.

Sometimes, with great care, loss turns into beauty, better than what was. Especially when the women in your life take care to mend that which was broken.

What was your favorite stuffed animal as a child?