The past couple months, I've been doing a lot of origami in public. The most common reaction: "How long have you been doing this?" (Answer: "Since third grade.") Second-most common reaction: "I did that for a while when I was young, but I tried something complicated and gave up." (Answer: "Yeah, that happens." Because I can't think of anything better.)
One comment I'm still thinking about, a couple weeks later: "Watching you, I realize origami is not a matter of knowing how to make the folds correctly, but how to correct them." (not exact quote, but that's the gist)
My first reaction was along the lines of "Um, well, yeah." After all, you adjust the folds as you make them, to meet the marks. But I'd never thought about it quite like that. And in fact, this is a lesson I've been subconsciously internalizing the past couple years, ever since meeting a Robert Lang quote from an interview (which apparently I didn't journal here) about how the biggest mistake of intermediate folders is to make creases too sharp, to which my reaction was "guilty as charged." As I worked on this, I learned that one of the consequences of not creasing as sharply is that you are not as locked in to your mistakes, that you can slide things slightly as needed, as the structure progresses.
All of which sounds a lot like I'm talking about writing and revision, and I suspect resonates with artists in other media. That it was said by someone in my writer's group makes me think more about the application to writing, though.
Anyway, things folded in public generally gets given away -- otherwise the house would be (even more) awash in the things I do to perfectly innocent paper. Those at home, however, stick around unless (until) the Young Cat gets to them. And since it's a while since I showed off, how about some pic-spam.
October, I played a lot with "water-patterned" paper (that's what the kanji on the package calls it, anyway) -- which have a sort of non-smooth shading of colors. Here's some African animals made with it (click to embiggen):
I see I forgot to include the blue-to-purple rhinoceros in the tableaux -- ah well. I'm especially fond of how the colors pattern worked out for the elephant. Animals seem to take to this paper especially well.
A floral tyrannosaur is worried about his winged brothers:

Last month, I got a large pack of chiyogami ("many-patterned-paper") washi ("Japanese-style-paper") in 30 different patterns. The tyrannosaur is one of the first things I made with it. Washi is thicker than standard origami paper, so it's not the best paper for detailed models (let's just say that the ladybug was not a success and leave it at that), but it turns out to be excellent for wet-folding. So I've gone back to teaching myself that. So more three-dimensional models that don't splay apart over time. To show the difference, this cardinal is dry-folded while the koi is wet-folded:

Three more wet-folded models -- sparrow, goose, and apatosaurus:
I'd call that last another sakurasaurus, but it's a plum-blossom pattern. Also, the picture angle does not bring out that it's rounded in 3D.
---L.
One comment I'm still thinking about, a couple weeks later: "Watching you, I realize origami is not a matter of knowing how to make the folds correctly, but how to correct them." (not exact quote, but that's the gist)
My first reaction was along the lines of "Um, well, yeah." After all, you adjust the folds as you make them, to meet the marks. But I'd never thought about it quite like that. And in fact, this is a lesson I've been subconsciously internalizing the past couple years, ever since meeting a Robert Lang quote from an interview (which apparently I didn't journal here) about how the biggest mistake of intermediate folders is to make creases too sharp, to which my reaction was "guilty as charged." As I worked on this, I learned that one of the consequences of not creasing as sharply is that you are not as locked in to your mistakes, that you can slide things slightly as needed, as the structure progresses.
All of which sounds a lot like I'm talking about writing and revision, and I suspect resonates with artists in other media. That it was said by someone in my writer's group makes me think more about the application to writing, though.
Anyway, things folded in public generally gets given away -- otherwise the house would be (even more) awash in the things I do to perfectly innocent paper. Those at home, however, stick around unless (until) the Young Cat gets to them. And since it's a while since I showed off, how about some pic-spam.
October, I played a lot with "water-patterned" paper (that's what the kanji on the package calls it, anyway) -- which have a sort of non-smooth shading of colors. Here's some African animals made with it (click to embiggen):
I see I forgot to include the blue-to-purple rhinoceros in the tableaux -- ah well. I'm especially fond of how the colors pattern worked out for the elephant. Animals seem to take to this paper especially well.
A floral tyrannosaur is worried about his winged brothers:
Last month, I got a large pack of chiyogami ("many-patterned-paper") washi ("Japanese-style-paper") in 30 different patterns. The tyrannosaur is one of the first things I made with it. Washi is thicker than standard origami paper, so it's not the best paper for detailed models (let's just say that the ladybug was not a success and leave it at that), but it turns out to be excellent for wet-folding. So I've gone back to teaching myself that. So more three-dimensional models that don't splay apart over time. To show the difference, this cardinal is dry-folded while the koi is wet-folded:
Three more wet-folded models -- sparrow, goose, and apatosaurus:
I'd call that last another sakurasaurus, but it's a plum-blossom pattern. Also, the picture angle does not bring out that it's rounded in 3D.
---L.