Puppets are real: On making sentient objects

I’m finally feeling better, so today I put on non-pajamas and left the house for the first time in over a week. We drove into Richmond and bought some pre-storm groceries (apparently liquid smoke and Korean bbq sauce packets are my disaster staple of choice??), visited our favorite thrift store where we purchased a single lobster cracking tool for a dollar (nailing it on whimsical storm prep!) and then went to see a kids puppet show called “New Squid on the Block” at a community art gallery.

The puppet show, completely wordless, had been a collaboration between a composer and puppeteer. They sent pieces and ideas to each other over a few months, creating a parallel story which resulted in something I don’t have words to describe. It’s a story about the friendship between a baby penguin and a squid. But it felt like there was a story underneath.

The audience- mostly 0-8 year olds, were amped up for most of the performance, yelling out the names of every Arctic animal that floated across the batik blue cloth that we all knew was the ocean. A fight broke out over whether the single black fin threatening the baby penguin’s life belonged to a shark or an orca (my kids were team orca.) The grown ups chuckled at first, and then I heard sniffles and sighs like the soundscape of a poetry reading. But the kids watching didn’t need to analyze what was happening or explain their emotions. The puppets were real, the feelings were real, the jelly fish puppets were cool.

Sometimes my daughter will ask me if I believe that her loveies are real, and I say yes. Sometimes when she’s out and I find one slumped on the couch, I will snuggle it, breathing its musty and milky and sometimes minty smell. I feel like it feels what I feel, or, I can feel how it loves us back.

The squid in the puppet show had bright yellow eyes made out of glass, that made it seem like it was staring into us. The baby penguin, whose expression was not manipulated or malleable, looked scared when it was about to drift away on broken ice.

Puppets are a little terrifying. Is it the lore, ptsd from Pinocchio, or the creepy comedy acts? Is it the fear that once we’ve made something, it doesn’t belong to us anymore?

I want to make things that are containers for what we feel. I want also to be whimsical and make things just for the joy of making them. Things that can be portals into our own hearts, but also, you know, something you see and shout “sea horse!” at. Maybe this penguin puppet kit that we got after the show will be all of those things.

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Thank you Puppets Off Broad Street for a magical experience. https://www.puppetsoffbroadstreet.org

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Have you ever made a puppet before? What’s on your winter crafting list? After the marionette I want to make a felt dinosaur for my youngest.