talking paper dolls

My Grandfather is a Postcard* but My Sister is a Paperdoll...

Last night, my friends and my sister and I were talking paper dolls. Carol-Ann said, remember how the paper dolls used to collapse forward at the waist because their waists were so small that they'd fold forward? ...phisshhhhhh.... and then the waist would get hopelessly creased and you'd try using tape to fix them but it would never work? They could never stand up again?

And then the tabs would break off all the clothes, said Michele.

I said, well, funny thing is, I wrote about paperdolls on my blog yesterday...

And Katja said, Well, Taina and I used to say, "Even when we're adults we're going to play with paperdolls!"

And she was right. Here we are, adults, playing with paperdolls. You can see the paper doll she made yesterday; it's the wonderful image above, which is the art that she created for RedShoes, our writing group. She made herself into a paperdoll standing on a clothesline of crows. That's my sister at about 4 years of age, her bxw photo self coloured in this time.

"Where is the girl who..."

This was the writing prompt we left with last time we met. Katja made a visual image. I'm jealous, I want to be a paper doll, too!

*My Grandfather is a Postcard is the title of a poem about our maternal paappa that my younger sister, Della, wrote. You know the postcard I mean; I told you about it before.