Is paradise a garden? A castle keep, girding for titanic war? 
Or a tableau of the ideal, suitable for habitation by porcelain figurines? 
In Paradise Lost ( 1667) John Milton vividly conjures these worlds and more. 
I wanted to layer figures of cartoon nostalgia directly with Milton's words. 
Here Eve is a fine lady, demure as porcelain. 
The quote behind her (Book IV) is a lush evocation of unspoiled Eden: 
On to their blissful bower: it was a place 
Chosen by the sovran Planter, when he framed 
All things to Man's delightful use; the roof 
Of thickest covert was inwoven shade 
Laurel and myrtle, and what higher grew 
Of firm and fragrant leaf; on either side 
Acanthus, and each odorous bushy shrub, 
Fenced up the verdant wall; each beauteous flower, 
Iris all hues, roses, and jessamin, 
Reared high their flourished heads between, and wrought 
Mosaick; underfoot the violet, 
Crocus, and hyacinth, with rich inlay 
Broidered the ground, more coloured than with stone 
Of costliest emblem: Other creature here, 
Bird, beast, insect, or worm, durst enter none, 
Such was their awe of Man.