Where Paper Flowers and Butterflies Go
I read Fran's Microhobbies recently and unearthed my old stack of origami paper. I used up a lot of them for various crafts but there were about five dozen still in that value pack. It was the best under-the-desk activity for me, because I couldn't just sit still in the classroom and my teachers didn't like me scribbling on my notes very much (fiddling with my laptop or graphing calculator even less). Origami was discreet, sufficiently mindless, and structured (I could learn a schema once and leave it to muscle memory).
It wasn't my first oeuvre of that ilk. In the previous years of schooling, I did knots and braids with colorful cords until I used up everything left from the handicraft classes. Every now and then, there would be a random fad like making jars of plastic straw stars. I would never keep them (what for?) but I was always happy to lend a hand when a classmate wanted one. The high school origami phase started similarly: a classmate suggested that we make a thousand cranes for graduation. I kept at it long after a thousand was reached, branching out to other shapes. Flowers were my favorite, though Yoshizawa Butterflies were my favorite designs. Kawasaki Rose was the bane of my existence.
I wouldn't call it a hobby, and I didn't try to make it my identity or anything. I wasn't even good at it, too heavy-handed for many of the more delicate designs. It was just an activity I enjoyed doing, folding away lilies after lilies, roses after roses, butterflies after butterflies. And then I ended up with a mountain of little paper things, and that was where I was forced to reconsider. While at first my classmates were happy to get random stuff even if slightly misshapen, I could only give away so much. I just liked the foldings, I didn't know what to do with the products.
At home, I just left them on my desk, on the counter, above the cupboard. They were fragile and they took space. My writings and drawings, in comparison, were flat stacks. My games and random programs could live in my hard disks. My mother was initially charmed that I finally took to a homely craft, but at one point she told me she was sick of them gathering dust with the climate in our area and besides, how many paper bouquets do one need anyway?
Well, I needed none, honestly. I wasn't into decorating or accessorizing (I get the appeal a bit now). However, throwing away the results after I folded them felt like a waste (and I did work on them!). Every now and then, I did produce some beautiful ones.
So I stopped.
If any of you do this sort of handicraft, how do you deal with it? I still fold some with order notes and receipts every now and then when I go out, and leave them on my table. I guess that constitute littering. I don't have space for paper bouquets in my apartment, but if anyone I happen to know IRL read this, feel free to request some.