That's about a thousand origami cranes, spread out on my bed a few years ago and photographed from above. Cropped from the photo is my black and white cat, Iala, who was trying very hard to grab one to chew on while my partner was taking the pictures. Just in case you were wondering what the whole crane thing ends up looking like. Usually I keep them in a huge box, though, because while I don't sleep much, my partner does, and kind of likes the bed without paper all over it. Picky, picky. I've got bigger photos of that on my computer, and photos of other sets of cranes I mailed off, though I didn't think to get any of the thousand pink ones I sent to Code Pink, and I like to crop the photos into large squares and print them out and fold them into cranes. Some of the cranes in that photo are made from paper with a traditional folded crane, or Orizuru, design on them. And some of the cranes in later photos are made from paper printed with this photo. And some of those....Since early 2004, I've folded 20180 cranes, plus whatever I folded away from home and didn't always count or remember how many, and whatever's sitting in the little box by my desk here that I haven't counted yet. The box is about half full, depending on the paper sizes, that's probably from a hundred fifty to three hundred cranes. It's just what I do.
In a comment down there, RobW said he was picturing a flock of multicolored birds. So that's what that looks like. I did send a bunch of them to a peace march in SF years ago, and they sent a bunch of them, not just mine but a lot of peoples', out on the tides. with little folded boats and candles.
From Sadako.com, here's a pdf so you can fold your own. Here's a non-pdf of instructions from Operation Peace Crane. It might end up being what you do, too.
Meanwhile, I have to figure out how to make this thing default to a sans-serif font, and show the actual time where I am.
6 comments:
Oh my, just when I decided that checking your blog daily was a sign of OCD badness, you go and start writing a bunch. That'll learn me.
My grandparents are all gone. My paternal grandpa - who'd had some health problems, but was still hanging out with grandma in Florida, taking his boat out into Sarasota Bay, having a nice Michelob now and then - was scheduled for abdominal surgery on a Monday. The Friday before, he and my grandmother went up to Tampa for their monthly meeting with their accountant or lawyer. As usual, they went out for lunch at their favorite place. As he sat down, my grandfather's face went completely white. He said something like, "Oh. I don't feel so good." Then he collapsed, and 45 minutes later, was pronounced dead at the ER. His abdominal aneurysm had burst. It was hellish for my grandma, but as my uncle pointed out to me, my grandfather had really not wanted to go in for this surgery.
My grandmother was not so fortunate. She had a stroke and lived for about a year afterwards, always in a facility (a sub-acute care place, not a rest home). According to my uncle, who flew to Florida several times (all of her six children visited, including my father), he heard her say one actual sentence: "This is no fun...."
My maternal grandfather died suddenly. I least that's what I thought. My parents later admitted that they hadn't told me that he had lung cancer because they didn't want to upset me. This angered me considerably, but by then I knew better. "You wanted to protect me," I echoed, and they both lit up. "Yes", said my mother proudly. "It was horrible. Thank goodness he's not suffering like that any more."
That's enough about my grandparents. This is your blog. Your grandmother just died and I haven't said anything about it. It just made me want to talk about myself. Frankly, I do not know what will happen when my parents die. That's because I haven't talked to them in years. I don't know anyone else in this situation. Maybe nobody talks about it, as a rule, because it's so sick and unnatural. How can a person have parents who are alive, and not communicate with them?
Larkspur, going off to think about your cranes
OCD badness? No. Unwarranted optimism, maybe.
Just so you know, nearly all of my friends have living family they don't speak with. That does include parents. For a long time, it included me, by the way. I don't see it as either sick or unnatural.
I see it as determined by a great many factors. There are genetic families no child should have to endure, and adopted families who are blessings. But even beyond that, there are parents and children and siblings who just aren't ever going to like each other, even if they do love each other. Sometimes all you have in common is blood.
How you define your family is up to you. I define mine based on love, not genes. Sometimes they coincide. Not always.
My father and I didn't get along. We weren't a Norman Rockwell family, but hardly anyone is. I was a young child with undiagnosed schizophrenia, and I think most of my family has always regarded me as beyond baffling and frustrating, even when they weren't just plain pissed off with me. In large part, we simply didn't talk, and he's not unrelated to my living so far away from them.
When he died a few years ago, I started folding cranes. It was an attempt to make some sort of peace, if not with him then with myself. I'm not entirely sure why cranes. I've always enjoyed folding, which is not the same as saying I'm any good at it. And I was aware that cranes were a traditional peace symbol. But the schizophrenia leads me to make odd mental connections, and I suppose it just felt okay.
I don't know if it worked. I know it left me with a hobby, some might say an obsession, but with something that allows me to de-stress, and something to do with my hands while I read or think.
I also know that in giving them to people, I've managed to do some good. At first, I wanted to give them to memorials and peace organizations, because folding them had bad associations for me, a reminder of my useless and failed efforts at being a reasonable daughter. It wasn't something I wanted to hand to my friends. And probably also some part of me wanted to do something bigger, as well.
I've learned, though, that how I feel when I fold doesn't matter to the people who get them. And I've learned that a crane handed to the woman next door is not as showy as a thousand to a peace park, but that it can do just as much good. People who get a box tell me that they've shared them with their friends, and their friends have shared them with their friends, and I've seen people who get them go out and be maybe a little more thoughtful than they might otherwise be. It compensates for my poor social skills in a lot of ways, and helps me balance some the footprint I leave behind me. I'm not a nice person, but I can do nice things. So in that way, it's been a rousing success.
I'm pagan, too, with an extremely loose version of spirituality, and in a way I guess I tend to regard the act of folding each crane as a kind of a prayer, usually for a better world which may include peace or it may include something or someone specific I'm thinking about at the time.
Anyway, though, and to go back to your comment, I tend to do the same thing, so I understand. When someone tells me something, I don't entirely know how to offer comfort, and when I can I try to say something that might just let them know that I sort of understand and it's okay to talk if they want to. Empathy tends to be my only actual social skill, and I fall back on it a lot. But I did kind of put people in an odd position by saying I didn't need sympathy. I was trying to keep people from feeling like they had to say something while not telling them they couldn't say anything. As far as I can tell, you guys all did seem to get that, and I'm grateful.
And I am grateful for your kind, honest response. It gives me a lot to think about.
The closest thing I have to folding cranes is taking care of dogs (and sometimes cats). It's barely a living, but I stay in some nice houses, and I am very tender and patient, especially with the elder-critters. I love them so much. I love to cuddle up with them, or walk with them, or massage their backs and shoulders. I gently wash their faces. I hunt for ticks on 'em, and while it's not their idea of fun, they appreciate it. Besides, since I have the opposable thumbs and everything, it seems fair.
And I get your uneasiness with the expression of not wanting sympathy. The idea, for me, at least, is to let folks know that it's fine if they don't respond at all. I know attention has been paid, and I like to give people an out when sometimes all you can think of, as a commenter, is to send *hugs*. *Hugs* are fine; nothing wrong with them or the people what sends 'em. I just kind of like to stipulate to it in advance, and let people read and move on, if they wish.
Larkspur
You don't know me, but I feel I know you a bit from your comments at WoC - where for some reason, though I'd LOVE to comment on so many things, the engine will not accept my submissions. I didn't think they were that bad, but the computer disagrees.
I just wanted to say I do the same thing, I fall back on empathy because I have no idea how to make someone feel better about themselves, other than to toss out a "Hey, you're not alone" and an invitation to talk about it. I do it whenever I feel at a loss for words, which is often. Hell, I'm doing it now. :D It never seems, to me, to be the right reaction, but it seems to work.
I followed your link to the Operation Peace crane, and raided my supply of scrapbook paper. The first two are kind of loose and wobbly looking, but the third one showed progress, and the fourth looks pretty good. I still need to work on the tiny, multi-folded corners of the beak and tail. They should have a disclaimer or something on that site. "You don't have to be OCD to try this, but it helps" or something. Speaking of which, I need more paper.
Your cranes look beautiful, and I know I've seen several people commenting on how much they loved getting them. They seem to make everyone smile. I think spreading the good person by person is just as important as, if not more important than, spreading it on a large scale. And yet more neglected.
Also... you must have some strong fingers!
Darling heart, your cranes brought me so much joy, I know that I'll never forget them, especially since I kept my favorite ones for myself --- and you brought so much joy to so many people with whom I shared them, I wish that I had kept a list, so that you could have an idea of how many lives that you have touched. My great-niece, who is so brilliant and leaning towards OCD at the age of 4, fell in LOVE with the itty-bitty birds, and taking them apart and putting them back together --- she's either going to be a brain surgeon or an engineer. So thank you again, darlin' heart, so many times. You bring joy to so many people, sometimes with birds, sometimes with words, but always just being yourself.
And I wish that I had been here sooner and known about your grandmother. I know that "I'm sorry" sounds flat and useless a lot of the time, but if you were close to your grandmother like I was to mine, I know that you are hurting like all hell. I know that I'm a flaky pain in the ass a lot of the time, but if you ever need to talk about it, I'm here. I'm not good for much, but I can listen.
XOXOXO
J
Thank you, Larkspur and Annti, and hi to Tracy. I dunno why you can't comment at WOC, that's weird. On my old computer, once we replaced the hard drive, I couldn't comment at Bats Left Throws Right, and ended up getting, er, this blogger account so I could. The problem has gone away with the new computer, which we got just a few months later when the whole thing crashed, new hard drive and all. (It's actually "refurbished", but I'm very pleased with it.) We never did figure out what the problem was.
And in addition to strong fingers, I also have grooved thumbnails, since that's what I use to make my creases.
Scrapbook paper is good, some of it's a bit heavy, but not all of it. A lot of paper is unsuitable for cranes because of how the design is arranged on it. It's aggravating to fold a crane out of beautiful paper you got only to discover that the nice parts of the paper are folded into the middle. After a while, you sort of start to recognize where the wings will be, so you can tell if paper needs retrimming at an angle. I can now cut squares freehand with quite a bit of precision. :-)
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