Early Avatars

Of a sudden, childhood phantoms have returned to haunt my memories, and searching through decades of detritus, my attic disgorged these sleeping beauties, which I crafted in my youth.

Before Second Life was a twinkle in Mr. Rosedale's eye, nay before Mr. Rosedale was dreamed up by his parents, my avatars roamed a different metaverse.

As a girl I lived through these personnalités, tricking death and the devil and getting beaten for my efforts.

After Carmen's cold reception at the Opera Comique, my version of M. Bizet's heroine languished unfinished and forever unloved in her paperboard tomb.

But my favorite was the Baron von Munchausen, whose tales I acted out tirelessly, to the utter exasperation of my father, an Encyclopædist and most rational man. Many, many others are long lost to time, having been made of papier maché: these, except for the Baron, are all hewn from scraps of wood.