Last night at my Mom’s I noticed a lamb I made years ago. I thought, "Oh, she saved this one. (She had given the pygmy goat and a donkey away to my niece and nephew.) The pygmy goat now lives with Lara, my niece. I wondered if, as Lara looks at the goat, she thinks, "Wow, how did Aunt Mary make this look like a real goat!"
I imagine myself explaining the various processes of how I made the goat, and understand that no amount of retracing the goat’s evolution will explain why the goat evokes a sense of recognition. My own reaction to one of my completed pieces is the same an everybody else’s, even though I know exactly how I did it. "How did I make that," I often ask myself.  Understanding the process doesn’t answer the question of how did I make that! How does it happen that as I myopically attend to each aspect of the project, something is miraculously born? The end product startles me every time.
After all these years of making animals, you’d think that I would just nod my head when a piece is completed and say,"Yes, yes, of course," and then move right on to the next thing. But I don’t. I tenderly handle it saying, "Where did you come from?" and then, "I made you?"
I wonder, does God feel this way when a baby is born? And then I know without a doubt that God celebrates the birth of each new baby in wonderment and awe.
 It’s the joy and the reward of creation. You reap this joy when you loose your sense of your surroundings and awe filled, traipse behind an idea inspired by a momentary glimpse of beauty. The creation is always bigger than the sum of it’s parts. It’s a miracle that cannot be understood by anyone except the divine in each one of us. It baffles our minds but our hearts rejoice as they meet yet another familiar soul.
Once a child asked me in secret email that I promised not to reveal to her father, "What gives a stuffed animal life?” She thought it had to with the stuffing. I reviewed the process mentally and thought about the experience of stuffing. "Maybe she is right," I thought. “Once you begin stuffing you become swept up in a crescendo of inspired actions as you see your goal nearing. You are coming home, at last. The many tedious steps are behind you now. Soon that feeling of awe will overwhelm you complete the vision. That sense of excitement focuses your attention. All the parts eagerly leave behind their individual identities and join to become one glorious whole. Perhaps when the artist loses himself for a higher purpose, something magical does happen.
A soul is bequeathed to an otherwise pile of "stuff." In temporarily sloughing off our identities, we allow our deeper self to rise up and overtake our hands, our eyes, our minds, our spirits. We become one with all that is. We see the majesty of life, and the interconnectedness of all things. We remember that we are not separate and alone. We touch on what is golden, what life is all about, that invisible thread that ties us all together. We give back to our community. We create something which says to a stranger, " You and I are one. I love as you love others. We are in this together. Here is proof that I, too, have seen what cannot be seen. My fleeting vision has made you smile. You nod your head remembering. You know me and feel known by me. You have seen my soul and know that it is like your own.”