I’ve been working on some origami projects this weekend.  Nothing I haven’t made before, but still requiring some concentration and detailed focus.

For all the precision and care that paper folding takes, the medium itself is imprecise.  The squares may not be perfect squares – even with machine cuts – and the thickness may not be uniform in a sheet or a pack.  Even the grain of the paper can change how it folds.

And the imperfections too small to see or even feel are then expressed in the folds. An edge may not quite line up or a crease may not be smooth.  

There will be gaps or overlaps of various sizes.

Sometimes, these will ruin a project.  If something is too far from square – and the design demands a square – it may not be salvageable.

But those times are rarer than you’d think.  

A missed crease can, with the right paper and a great deal of care, be “slid” into place as the crease rolls. Edges that don’t quite line up are usually ignored and gaps are just gaps.

I was working on a modular cube and the units had a bit of an overlap – that got hidden under a fold.  And the angles that weren’t quite 45 or 90 degrees seemed to cancel each out out as I put the units together.

I also made a wreath where the sheets of paper in the same pack weren’t the same thickness – nor were they all precisely square.  But as the final shape came together, the differences blended in.   The rough edges where the thickness of some of the sheets caused the paper to crack were visible and could be felt, but didn’t detract from the design.

And lastly, I made some roses.  While I like the look of these, the layers and layers of paper that get stacked up with the folds mean the bases don’t hold together well.  Even with glue, they will open up and flatten out.   The fix, I’ve found, is to use four binder clips to hold the base together, then dip them in water and let them dry – “training” the paper into a new shape. 

The water, though, will loosen the careful geometric folds into something a little loose, a little more random. And if the color bleeds a little from the water, even better. 

The end result is more natural and more organic than I could make by following the instructions the same way each time. 

All those imperfections and things outside of my control make each shape unique  – either adding to the beauty or simply too subtle to detract. 

There’s a balance there.  Precise folds and random factors. Of being careful and letting go.  Of taking pride in an accomplishment – and being mindful of the flaws. (That may not really be flaws at all.)

I’ve said before how lucky I am that this was the hobby that stuck with me.  And I was lucky again this weekend that I had projects that made me happy and turned out better than I expected.

Imperfect as they were.