Miles has been building “projects” at home for so long that I’ve become used to coming home and finding a creation like this one almost completely blocking the door. We step over assemblages of Lego, Playmobil, wooden blocks, trains, Star Wars figures, beanbag chairs, and stuffies like they’re part of the furniture. He’ll spend hours hunkered down, working out every detail (this one wasn’t as detailed as many of them are, though plastic animals later decided to have a party in the “house,” each animal getting a party favor and positioned according to its ability).
His structures take over the living room, dining room, play area, back yard (the second one pictured was a Rube Goldberg device to get a plastic ball from the top of a ramp into the wire catch-frame at the bottom, apparently inspired by the giant mousetrap he saw at Maker Faire). We adjust our walking patterns to his architectural indulgences. Signs of OCD, but in a good way. As he gets older, his projects become less random, more structured, often with a story behind them (generally indiscernible until interviewed). But at the same time, the story lines are becoming a bit more realistic, less surreal. His description of this one was very matter-of-fact:
It’s a seven-story house and it has doors and windows like all houses do and it has a draw-bridge, a garage and a swimming pool in the middle. And 16 animals live in there. I forgot their names. And it has a ladder to get up to the drawbridge. And it’s not painted.
Someday we’ll put together a compendium of his annotated projects. Coffee table book?