ABOVE: Gregor from my first family.
BELOW: Gregor from my second family.
Nana Laura used to say that Memory Lane could be a dangerous place because there were always thorns among the roses. She was right -- as usual. Any trip down Memory Lane has pain mingled with joy. A bitter-sweet journey at best.
I recently had dozens of images of my first Sasha family scanned from my old 35mm slides. Those dolls gave me a great deal of pleasure and their loss gave me an equal amount of sorrow.
It all began in the early 1970s when I walked past a small toy shop in New York City called "dollsandreams." There were Sasha dolls playing in the window and I was captivated by their simple reality and their sophisticated artistry. Night after night I walked by the shop on my way home from work. Finally, I went in and bought my first Sasha doll -- a brunette Gregor who looked like my son, Adam.
Like Potato Chips (you can't eat just one) my Sasha family quickly grew to over a dozen dolls and eventually to over a hundred.
In the days ahead I will venture down Memory Lane and try to only smell the roses and avoid the thorns. I invite you to join me and learn a little bit about Sasha dolls when they first came to America and only cost $17.00 brand new in their tubes.