On our best intentions.
I kept finding these funny little porcelain animals at thrift shops. They were hidden among the shelves, staring at me like strays at the pound. I found myself strangely sympathetic to them. How sad to be cherished then discarded.
So I bought them whenever I found them. I took them in.
I had a misguided idea about photographing them shattered and laid out like bear skin rugs, in a state of preservation. This resulted in me hitting one with a hammer, which I regretted immediately. Oh, the things we do for art.
Eventually I came to my senses and glued the poor thing back together, but of course the damage was done. And so came a fun little project about mistakes, regret, and futile attempts at resolve.