Where to begin…
I suppose January/February of last year? When I was haunting a local antique mall and being fascinated by porcelain miniatures of buildings in Prague. They were a wonderful inspiration for my writing, and I snatched up their full stock before (1) the pandemic hit in earnest, and I isolated at home, and (2) I no longer had the disposable income, having been laid off, to indulge myself in such a way.
I posted a few of the little buildings. A friend subsequently told me she blew right past those posts because she had no interest in them. That’s fine. I recently looked at my stats for the first time in years and was surprised by how many people read this random, meandering blog. “They” say write the book you want to read. I guess I write the blog I want to read, and I appreciate everyone else who reads here and am always interested in receiving comments.
I was in Walgreen’s the other day (I seem to be going there more often) when I spotted these coloring books.
They have drawings to color on both front and back sides of each sheet. I prefer single-sided drawings, because I pull them to save in a sketch book. Since these were only a dollar, I bought two of each so I’d be able to take advantage of every drawing.
In “Cities of the World,” there was Prague! I have a miniature that resembles the building on the left. Even if it’s not exact, I’ve located the information for my little porcelain building. It’s one of the buildings of the Prague City Insurance Company at Starom?stské nám?stí 932/6, Old Town, 110 00 Prague 1, Czech Republic.
If you’ve been willing to stick with me through this post, below is a gift from me to you from the second novel in the Neverending Saga. The Director is remembering a time after he’d been in an accident and was slowly recovering. As for The Artist…
He was still in the wheelchair then, but an aide went with him to assist him, and [the artist] was indefatigable as she made sure he missed out on nothing. He loved Prague’s architecture and people and shops. When she worked, he went with her to her warehouse of a studio. The radio was always turned low to classical music, and when he wasn’t watching her paint, he read or paged through the art books she stacked up for him. Each night after dinner and a few passionate hours in his hotel suite, she left him in the care of his aide.
This is why I’m intrigued by Prague and my miniature buildings…the reason for research…why I love what I do. My blog isn’t for everyone. My novels aren’t, either. Approval, understanding, interested readers, enthusiasm–these are all lovely. But my love of research and where it takes me, and my love of story and characters: They are a gift to me from myself.
I don’t know if this is true of everyone who creates.