Remember her? I have picked up from where I left off. It doesn't look like I have gotten very far but I have hours into her face, hours, I say- dramatically! I have smoothed out the "fabric" and in doing so discovered a new favorite way to use my favorite tool= paper clay. Paper clay is as its name would suggest. A mix of finely ground clay and finely ground paper mulch. It is workable in many consistencies- straight out of the bag it feels like doughy clay. Mix a little water in with it and it will slip around in a very nice way. Mix it into more water and you have paste. I used a paintbrush and painted the last coat on the "fabric" and will now have very little sanding to do to it if any.
I also bulked out her body, giving her legs some more realistic shape, some shape to her shoulders and oh yeah, I gave her boobies. When I stood back and looked at her I thought- hmm, she's obviously not wearing a bra so I used my thumbs and squished them down a little- hey, its my sculpture and I can pick and choose where to be realistic- right? I still have to work on her arms and give her some hands.
The hair is made of polymer clay (which I hate but its a means to an end until something else comes along) over wire mesh. Did I say I hate polymer clay? I covered it up with a layer of pasty paper clay so that it will take paint better. By better- I mean I hate polymer clay and the way it paints up.
Now I have to figure out how to make her stand up nicely on her pedestal. I drilled through her foot and through the clay and will wire them together. I will also wire the two points where the fabric hits the base. I fear that it will not be enough and someone will move her and she'll snap at the foot so I intend to create some "roots" out of wire that will wrap up and around her legs- which ties into "her story."
All of my sculptures start from a drawing. The drawing expresses and explores a concept message. I knew hers had something to do with stripping away all that is un-true in the way we see ourselves and looking honestly at ourselves- the good the bad and the ugly and realizing that nothing about us is unforgivable and most about us is lovely or lovable.
So here's her story-
The wind blew unrelenting and worked away her false walls. When only a foundation remained beneath her- she could feel the light fall across her shoulders, warming her. She stood strong in the light knowing it as truth and roots grew bonding her securely to this new place of unadorned honesty.
I wish I didn't have to work so could stay up all night working on her- in my art studio, all by myself....
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