Today we made paper snowflakes at work.
And mine were the best.
I didn't say this at work, but everybody else did, and well, it was obvious. However, once I showed my coworkers how to do it, they could churn out some pretty decent lacy creations, but mine were still the best.
The office is all decked out in Christmas splendor. There are twinkle lights, garland, artificial trees, stockings at each person's desk, and now paper snowflakes hanging from the ceiling.
When I got to work today there was a pile of folded paper with a stick'em note on it that read "snowflakes." I don't think it was an order that I use all the paper and make a stack of snowflakes by myself, in fact, I think it was accidentally left there by the person who used my desk when I wasn't there yesterday. But. Cut snowflakes I did. The snowflakes that had been made the day before were doomed by poor folding and all had strange a squarish look. It was my goal to make my snowflakes as different as possible. No two were alike. Some were feathery, others rounded. Some were geometric with diamonds and triangles, others were airy and commercial-looking.
I cut a great snowflake. And now my thumb has a bruise on it from where the scissors rested. I had lots of fun.
Snowflake cutting was one of my favorite arts and crafts in elementary school. As I sat there and sculpted my paper creations, I thought, "hey, I'm a scientist, I shouldn't be any good at this creative stuff." But then I realized that scientists are some of the most creative people I know; you have to be in order to think of solutions that nobody's tried yet. And besides that, snowflakes are pretty mathematical, if you think about it; the best ones are just a bunch of triangles. I then hummed merrily along and made a snowflake that looked like little men holding hands.