When I was about 14 years old, my Mom opened a craft and hobby store in our town. I was old enough to help run it. I remember setting up window displays and learning how to count change the old fashioned way.
She held crafting classes in a back room of the store, and that’s where I learned how to make porcelain dolls. I probably still harbor the dust in my lungs from cleaning the seams off greenware (which will likely come back to haunt me sometime in the not-so-distant future), but I had discovered a hobby I loved.
From that time until I was in my early twenties, I occasionally made dolls when I could scrape together enough money to cover the rather large expenses. I made two baby dolls, a toddler doll for my grandmother, and a ballerina doll, not to mention several other unfinished dolls that are still packed away in my attic somewhere.
Recently, we turned off the wireless Internet in our home. I’ve been surprised at the positive difference it’s made. My younger kids play more and fight less. My teenagers emerge from their bedroom “caves” to sniff the air and prowl for activities that don’t involve a screen. Even I am dredging up thoughts of crafts and hobbies I once pursued.
That’s why I’m toying with the idea of making another doll (I’ll wear a dust mask, this time, I promise). I want to teach my kids what I know, give them opportunities to create–not just dolls (although, that’s a popular topic in a family of girls), but a variety of items.
It seems to me that many of the more artistic and hobbyist pursuits are being lost in our modern society. They get a bad rap because they aren’t exactly big money-makers, or even seen as a valuable use of time. (And they often take a lot of time!)
I remember when I became discouraged with my doll hobby because it cost me over $100 (I’ll let you translate into today’s dollars), and buying a porcelain doll only cost around $25. That was when I stopped making dolls.
I think maybe that was a mistake. Because there’s something more valuable inherent to the process of creation. Whether it’s making dolls, or sewing a dress, or whittling a sculpture no one else will ever see: it’s not about money. It’s about finding your happy place. And that’s better than pocket change, any day.