I found this dollhouse on the street on a lunch time run. Broken and abandoned. So sad. I dont know how I will use it, or if I will, but it was worth the uber and cuts & scratches getting it up my laneway and warehouse stairs. It's heavier than it looks. My idea for 7 year old me was playing with a dollhouse, but I may use it as the entire set. I always wanted a proper one as a child, rather than my 'Barbie dream house' built by me out of a cardboard fruit box. I know that sounds very 'Monty Python' but it is true. I built my younger sister a real one one at 13 years old. And I was looking through my undergraduate journals to find my images of 'surreal', which I remembered I was exploring back then. I think it was 2nd semester, 1st year and that journal obviously didn't make the cut for the move from my 2 bed unit in Adelaide to my studio here. But I found this, my favourite book as a child that I looked back on when I struggled to talk about home (and make it meaningful / engaging) in my 1st semester, final year. Dr Zuess' 'Come over to my house'. I think thats why I think my sister's tragic death was a major turning point in my life that formed who I am. We were really poor, 6 kids with a blue collar working dad. Actually not really poor, but poor for lower North Shore Sydney. We didn't have the toys and lollies and snack foods and clothes other kids had, but boy did I have a lovely childhood. Full of books and playing, other kids, family, tv, music. I just loved it.
