Self-editing is an important part of the creative process. For me, the lightbulb goes on (Eureka!) and often dims as I re-think the logistics — or start calculating costs of materials. Ideas surge and retreat in almost regular rhythm. But Sick Puppy won't stop dogging me.
I know the idea of crocheting a giant version of an old novelty craft is a major distraction from my work. I know that "because it's funny" is not a good defence. I've tried to reject Sick Puppy but it's exactly the fun/silly/slightly repressive sensibility contained in this once-common bathroom item that attracts me. When it comes right down to it, Sick Puppy is a sweet anti-art-authoritarian notion.
Despite the challenge of trying to come up with a suitable fibre to fabricate the beast, or figuring out what would stand in for the toilet roll and how the beast could possibly be stored or shipped, the idea of a six-foot-tall pompom poodle doll with googly eyes perseveres.
That crash of sensibilities is not so different from Sick Puppy's potential. It might exude a strong attraction-repulsion effect. It might call into question kitsch and craft versus art and high concept, the masculine and the feminine (Sick Puppy is clearly a bitch).
Pylypchuk's 'elephant fight' (at right). See how he develops his ideas, without fear: