Houses Filled with Light

Well that year just happened. 

Back in February 2020, I started an entry here about a fun classroom project from that week, then abandoned it unpublished once everything shut down. It's interesting to go back to it now because my appreciation for miniatures and the transformation that light brings to small spaces has come back around for me. Here's a little of what I wrote back in February:

We made shadow boxes by arranging a mixture of natural objects, toys, miniatures, and some figurines from my grandma's Christmas village collection that my mom sent me for Christmas. Then we set a box with a peep hole in front and a light hole on top, so each child could see into the world they had just created in a new light. One of the boys looked into the box at his arrangement and exclaimed, "I see a story!"

 

Also revisiting my blog reminds me of another project long neglected--the garden castle. After bringing it home from Kansas City almost three years ago and posting about its progress, I've relegated it to the top shelf in my garage. I've often thought about taking it down again, but never find that I do.

Miniatures continue to be an active interest. I collect fun pieces which work well as planter decorations. I enjoy finding fairy gardens on neighborhood walks, and also follow professional miniaturists like Lavender Belle Miniatures on Instagram. It's amazing to me how honed her style is, and inspiring when I recognize common objects she's repurposed. But mostly it feels way out of reach. "How does she make all that intricate trimming?" I wonder aloud. My husband takes a look. "That's laser-cut. See the burnt edges?" Though demystifying to an extent, this explanation did not make building miniatures feel more approachable.

Then I saw a miniature kit in a catalogue that was under twenty dollars. Bingo. First I need to follow easy step-by-step instructions with all the materials and tools provided, and then I can go from there on my own. Said kit had terrible reviews, but I showed my husband, and next time we found ourselves in a craft store, he located the miniatures section and picked out a kit for me as an early Christmas present. 

I started out following the steps in the exact order they were given, which began with assembling all of the objects and furniture that go inside the house before putting the house itself together, so we had little books and chairs and potted plants strewn over the surfaces of the living room for a while. But then I realized I didn't need to do everything exactly like the box showed. I replaced the provided artwork with my own stickers, and added a basket of kittens from my grandma's set of miniatures. I didn't like any of the textiles that came with the kit. Instead, I picked silks and brocades out of my scrap pile, which were harder to work with on such a small scale, but made the whole project feel more like my own. 

I left wiring the lights for last since it felt the most intimidating. And sure enough, when I finally did strip the ends and coil the wires, the result was a big nothing. We tried different batteries. We tried different combinations of wiring. Still nothing. Finally we concluded that the battery box was a dud, so we ordered a new one. 

 

 

The finishing touch was delayed by a few days, but when the lights finally did come on, it brought a whole new life to the little bits of paper, wood, metal and plastic. It was such a magical moment, I took this picture before even righting all the little pieces that had fallen out of place while connecting the new battery box.

 

Here is another picture after putting things back into place.

When I showed the completed kit to a student over Zoom, he asked, "Who lives in it?" I didn't know how to answer, but the question confirmed my belief that given the smallest of spaces and a touch of light, life and imagination are quick to fill it. 

 Also I've been listening to this song a lot lately. Hence the title.