Like an old storyteller spider, I’ll weave an idea in your mind, a dream round your heart, that you may be happily trapped thereafter. Imagine, first, a solar system writ in miniature life; a botanical orrery suspended from your ceiling with spheres of moss and other plants, bound tight in brilliant white cordage. This string garden of kokedamas (moss ball bonsai) rejects your puny attempts at gardening in two dimensions, and insists you think in three.
Then imagine that after you’ve spent your time mixing your clay soil, enveloping your precious flora and then gently cocooning it all in living moss – after suspending these tiny planets – then you speckle your firmament with life giving light in the form of spherical pendant lights. Could you resist then, adding hanging basket solar powered turning motors to each planet to give it a personal day/night cycle in your binary, trinary or more, solar system?
Beyond this point, however, there’d likely be no stopping you. Would you speckle the walls at the edges of space with a glow-in-the-dark Milky Way? Would you turn over the room to keeping butterflies, watching them landing like giant iridescent beasts on these miniature worlds? Would you add tiny people, isolated on their own worlds and yet gazing in wonder at their neighbors? Would they in turn dream of the greatness, rareness, muchness, fewness of this precious only endless world in which you say you live?
(Kokedamas seen over at Craft:Blog – the resulting whimsical journey is entirely my own fault.)