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Brickolage - De File
Does Collecting Make You Feel Dirty?
cbertsch
cbertsch
Brickolage
I spent the whole day with Skylar at Legoland. Kim was taking a break from parental intensity, but joined us for our last two hours there. The Bean and I had fun on the child-friendly roller coasters. We indulged our nostalgia for previous trips to the park by waiting in line for the mechanical horse ride together.

Then we took our respective positions for the main event. This time, though, I was a lot less anxious about letting her go all by herself than I was when she still a toddler.

After that, we strolled through the park at a leisurely pace, delighting in the human-scaled vistas designed for the faint of heart. At one point the two of us performed our posing-for-pictures ritual. I ask Skylar to say the name of a philosopher -- Nietzsche, Kierkegaard, and Heidegger are favorites, chiefly because they sound sort of silly -- and she responds, "Whatever it was," with the disdain of the terminally bored. Then I ask her to say, "Whatever it was," and she reponds with the name of the philosopher I most recently asked her to speak. Here she is saying our family favorite, "Nietzsche!"

And then we lost three hours in the Lego Clubhouse, where we matched each other's passion for brickolage.

I didn't have the time to finalize my absurdly overarticulated creation, but the process mattered a lot more than the product. You can buy what you build -- it's never as cheap as you hope it will be -- but I decided to leave my many-membered offspring behind.

Later, though, I decided to go back and pick up a decent supply of the axle, joint, and wheel pieces that I'd been enjoying. Maybe I'll start participating in our family's Lego-mania. As long as no one forces me to follow instructions I'll have a grand time.

Tags: , , ,
Mode: I can make a quick trick brick
Muse: Matt Ward over the Starbucks sound system

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