I don't have the steadiest of hands, but I built a tiny dinosaur anyway, dipping each piece carefully in glue that never would stay where I wanted it to go.
When I built the ship in a bottle it was partly because everything outside was too big, and I needed something tiny to focus on, something smaller than me with pieces that would do what I wanted. They didn't, of course, and I ended up covered in cuts and punctures and paint, but it all turned out to be an apt metaphor for weathering life at that moment. It's a little wobbly and somewhat poorly constructed, but it's my ship in my bottle, and I'm always pleased with it.
I built the tinysaur on my couch in an afternoon, recovering from a weekend enveloped by love and hugs and singing and dancing. (You guys. There was a DANCE BATTLE at my birthday dance party, and I may never recover from how spectacular that was. I love a good dance battle.) For just this moment everything outside is just the right side, and though my hands are still unsteady, my heart is pretty even. I'm almost ready for whatever the fall might have in store, and my bright miniature dinosaur is fitting in just fine.