Serious Monkey

Marianne made me a monkey.
He has a big wrinkly forehead and is quite serious about life.
I love him already - he is on my Panel of the Interior (you know - the rabble of voices bickering and battling for the upper hand inside the echo-chamber of the head).
Marianne has put a face to something in me that often hoots with derision & I have had no name for. I am so very pleased with this toy and the mirror he holds back to me. 

From the outside it must seem very childish and 
infantile for a woman to play so readily. 
But really, I cannot think of anything more valuable or hard - won in my life than this fragile capacity.

There was a comment this morning about culture being the outcome of humans' ability to sustain play into adulthood. Andy had been explaining the concept of Neotony (in relation to Anime and manga art styles) and then *pop* out comes this dazzling sideways link and I thought of my grim monkey and new wind-up dinosaur, and the softening they facilitate and the stories and talks they spark and allow.

So much has hapened before lunch today. My head is a little foggy from the wine last night and I don't feel up to being witty or intelligent. I am just a squirrel faced with an overabundance of nuts. I've momentarilly run out of places to stuff goodies.
There is something very tasty in these two things to come back to, I'm sure it will keep.