Waiting quietly (an advantage of inanimate objects) my paper critters stay hidden in make-believe folders made of invisible 0’s and 1′ in a form of stop frame imagery. Their former tangible paper selves now lost, and probably destroyed and gone to were all good origami critters go, to the streets of San Francisco.
It is time for them to come out to play.
There was talk of making them fancy with computer trickery, but nay. Too much time has elapsed already since those days of San Fran, when the sky’s were grey and the paper crisp. Those days of spinning flowers, airplane messages and dancing skeletons. Of days spent toiling in a room drowned in arty, crafty, trinkety, taxidermy animals and dolls. Of walking the foggy streets with camera slave at hand, searching, exploring, for a birth place to set free my transformative pulp babies.
The paper commands it.