Snakes. . . spiders. . . cactus. . . warthogs. . . bugs. . . blobfish. . . I've always had a soft spot for the less cuddly and least beloved species. For the underdog, so to speak. (Among my stuffed animal collection is a foot-long cockroach.)
I've always loved dolls, too, and have my share of beautiful and cuddly ones. And when I found some old wool sweaters that were a bit moth-eaten and felted, I found myself thinking about soft dolls. I had no intention of making anything but soft, fun, cuddly dolls.
But something happened as I was working on them. They took on a life of their own, asking for crazy hair and mismatched eyes, wild color combinations, huge smiles. . .What could I do?
It got worse. Some of them begged for single eyes. I told them about the problems faced by the Cyclops family when confronted with humans such as Odysseus, but they didn't care. They liked the "minimalist" look.
They even started telling me what names they wanted. Seriously, I was making a boy doll a few months ago, and suddenly the name "Marvin" came into my mind. I wasn't thinking about names, and I'm not so fond of that one, but his little button eyes stared pleadingly into mine, and I said, "OK, OK, you're Marvin!" (I think he was smiling, but he had pulled the neck of his sweater over his lower face, so I couldn't tell for sure.)
I realized, though, that they all have good hearts and sweet temperaments. Even monster dolls – and bugs and spiders, etc. – deserve love. As we all know, it's the inner beauty that really counts.