#sculpting?? ???? guess i could pick that up too or ??? art dolls maybe ?????

[squeakadeeks]

im gonna. yartz. my sewing machine finally broke. honestly it was a pretty bad machine, one of the models that was super flimsy like the ez-bake oven equivalent of a sewing machine. one of the plastic parts warped and wont fit with the other cogs anymore.

so uuuhhhhhhhh hope you guys have been liking. my weird bad art cause thats literally all i will be able to do for a w h i l e

[rebelliouslala]

Kim Taehyung

“one chocolate mocha with blueberries and caramel, for y/n”

Taehyung looks up

and i- oop

He sees you

Sure you’re wearing your ex boyfriend's old hoodie

Since he hated that one

And used it for as a towel unknowingly to you

Even if your hair as messy from crying all last night from the breakup

Your cheeks a little puffy from the numb feeling of ice cream

Chocolate chip cookie dough to be exact

You barely register in Taehyung's heart eyes

Thanking him quietly and leaving your payment of $10 as a tip as you sit in the corner, away from the other artsy kids, and just sipping on your coffee

“uh, jimin?”

“yep?”

tae kind of wiggles his finger at you

“rly hot person in the corner”

Jimin looks over, shaking a drink furiously and he smiles

“yeah well they are hot”

“what should i do?”

The other man scoffs, serving the drink as he uses the foam, gently making art “look, im too busy for love advice for you, tae”

“pls or ill tell joon hyung about why all of his socks are missing”

jimin’s hand quivers, messing up the rose he was drawing

“im going to kill u tae”

“so, tell me how to get them”

“well not by fucking blackmail”

“JOON-!”

“OK JUST GO TALK TO THEM YOU ASSHOLE”

The cafe stops moving and out pops out Namjoon’s head, glaring at the two, quietly mouthing, “get back to work”

So as the two bicker, you silently delete photos from your relationship

You and he used to go here all the time

But he cheated on you

Honestly, you wanted to forgive him

But he had told everyone behind your back how horrible you are

And no wonder that blond barista was yelling, probably the other one looking probably to the guy next to you

You quietly sigh and just sip your drink, smiling softly

it’s been a long time since you had some free time, and now maybe you could just take a break

After all the incense here reminded you of home, and the coffee like something you would get in a “city”, or a small town

you couldnt explain it, but you still wrote it down, so you can get ideas to paint later

A small cookie, shaped like a donut appears in front of you

“i didnt order this”

“I know”

You look up to the barista

okay how to explain what absolute perfection this man was

His face was beautifully sculpted, his nose is rounded to a bulb, and his hair long enough that the bandanna he wore complimented his entire work outfit

his lips alone were a detail, perfectly shaped, his eyes looking at you interestingly, curiously

Your entire breath, everything just fucking stopped

“uh, are you okay?”

“No” you say, trying to grab for something as you even notice how not only was his fucking face ethereal, but his body too

he was like a god himself

“my name is taehyung, kim taehyung”

“y/n l/n”

he smiles, his eyes gently shutting themselves, as his smile was almost like a box

adorable

“I wanted to ask, you, actually, y/n” he says with a smaller voice

Despite having such a deep and masculine vice

“Hm?”

“I have to have a model, and, I know this cannot be your best fashion, i would love to i dont know, i guess sort of doll you up? Make you look nice? Then have a photoshoot? If, you dont want t-,”

“I would really like that.” you say

So perhaps feelings were caught quickly

Once tae went back to his frat to tell the boys

They went ecstatic

“Dude okay”

“wait” says jin, and he widens his eyes

“she was dating this one dude from the got frat”

The other boys huddle around Jin’s non virus computer

indeed, he found the old tweets between you and park jinyoung

You hugging on his arm

Taehyung almost choked because he had heard rumors on jinyoung cheating

“Oh my god, thats why they looked so sad :(“

Hobi pushes him, “okay, u need to cheer them up”

“I said just that i would make them over”

“Well do that,”

“Jimin can you-”

“Hell fuckin naw my guy”

“pls :(“

Everyone uwued

“Fine”

So the day comes

U gave jinyoung his hoodie back

And he returned some bad comments that made u feel bad

But once u go to their frat

There is everyone

With their puppies

There’s this this one black and brown dog that was maybe the size of Tae’s hand that ran to you and start jumping on your leg, barking

ah yes its the infamous yeontan

You gasp softly and pick them up, scratching behind their ear as they wag their tag happily

“Oh my god--?”

“y/n, i heard, what happened with Jinyoung”

you freeze and sigh, looking down, “listen i-,”

“Thats why we decided to wait, im here for you if you need time, so, we brought our dogs jimin and i are making dalgona coffee, namjoon and yoongi hyung made some lofi beats, we can just chill”

Jin passes by with a smile, “plus we got makeup and self care shit for you”

so you put on face mass with tae

Talking to him about your breakup, it kind of made you cry, but petting yeontan was 14567893021 times better

“Well, i dont thin he was right for you at all y/n, he’s a jerk”

You smile softly, peeling off your face mask and looking at the mirror

“Whoa. . .i look. . .nice” you mumble

“you always do,”

You look at tae who freezes

oh

fuck

did he say that aloud?

you blush, and there’s a beat of silence before he exhales, “you. . .you’re gorgeous, dont let some breakup tell you. . .tell you you arent”

You gently tear up, an you hug him

“Thanks tae,”

Once he softens up, he hugs back, holding you to his heart as he whispers, “Anytime, doll"

[brokenmusicboxwolfe]

On a photo of a not exactly human face I sculpted....

labratbren said:                                                                                                                            What do you do with them when they are done? Do you ever post pictures of the finished product? 

Ah, well, um....short answer? Nothing.

Here’s the longer answer (VERY long)....

While I was always drawn to sculpting, I really didn’t sculpt growing up. 

I mean, I tried to use clay I dug out of the ground, drying it in the sun, when I was tiny. Naturally it crumbled except for this lump of a head I still have. In Kindergarden the art teacher had his own kiln and let us use the scraps left over from the pots he had us make. I still have a loop armed alien and creature head I made, but he left with his kiln the next year. The dough art they had us make in second grade was gone by the next year, ‘cause this buggy and humid climate doesn’t agree with it. My parents gave me modling clay, but I hated it. I wanted something that would “stay”. 

But everyone acted like sculpting was hard, so maybe I wasn’t missing out. 

Then one day, when I was 19 or so, my hands got bored. Anyone would have laughed if I’d said I was bored right then. I had a book open to one side of me, a magazine on the other, as I went back and forth reading both. I was also  listening to music AND watching the movie The Brothers Karamazov at the same time. I have this problem where I always feel like I should be doing more, and when I am doing something I get itchy to be doing something else. Like my brain isn’t fully occupied even if I’m really enjoying whatever. That day my hands needed something to do, and there was this block of clay left over from a project one of Pop’s projects (a river system display, I think) It was just sittin’ there on the porch so....

And it turned out sculpting was easy! I mean, maybe not art bit doodling around having fun making faces. Do NOT be intimidated by sculpting! It comes so much more easiy than trying to convert our 3D world into some 2D drawing. Seriously, try drawing a nose head on! But toss on any wedge on a sculpted face and you have a nose...

Ok, maybe I just am bad at drawing! But I really do wish more people would try sculpting.

Anyway, the clay was another dead end, but it did inspire me to hunt for something I could “make stay”. And that something was sculpey. 

Whenever I was certain I would have the place completely to myself for a full hour I’d go stand out on the ramp behind the house and sculpt. It wasn’t too often, what with the house also being the office of the family business and my family being the sort of close one that did everything together. I couldn’t sculpt and be watched. All I needed was an our because I sculpted quickly. In an hour I’d have a little bust, rough as heck but with some detail I liked.

But then I ran out of places to put my busts in my already overstuffed bedroom. I solved this by just slicing the faces off and just baking them. I could glue magnets to them and line all the edges of my metal bookcases.

I did dabble in other things. I tried a full figure and made a few little stick figures. I sculpted something from Babylon 5 for my brother, mixed my box painting (I used to paint boxes when I had a table) with sculpting for a Discworld box for Mom, Easter bunnies for my parents, magnets for everyone, Christmas ornaments...

When she saw the Christmas tree ornaments my cousin Katharine, dollhouse collector, roped my into making her a doll. She had specific requirements for a 6″ tall Beast in what I gathered were Regency era clothes from her decription. In my ignorance I assumed the doll would have to have a jointed body, fabric clothes and furry fur, which kinda drove me nuts! But somehow I pulled it off! I sculpted a few more of those little dolls (no sewing on these!) as gifts for my parents and brother, as well as a bit of goofing around for myself (I liked my little  Sleestack a couple decades late for little me). But that was that.

Then the weirdest darn thing happened: I was suddenly stricken with a full imaginative block!

I stopped sculpting. I stopped painting boxes. I stopped writing stories. Worst of all I stopped dreaming! I still remember how upsetting that was, this sense of loss. It was like having a part of me paralyzed.  

It lasted years. Terrible years.

When my father became sick right after my irreparable rift with my brother, as I was facing the most terrible external loss of my life, something woke back up in me. Constant, vivid dreams, elaborate epics spiraling through night after night, images and stories that writing didn’t full  satisfy the need to express. I started painting miniature boxes again. Box after box after box....

But no sculpting.

I dunno why I still didn’t sculpt. I just didn’t.

Then my father died.

Pop’s death was a devistating moment. My father. My best friend. When Pop was sick I told him he couldn’t die because I wouldn’t have anyone to talk to. There is a lot of truth in that.  I love Mom dearly, but our brains work very differently. Pop might have been smarter, and his depth of knowledge was certainly mind blowing, but our mental wiring followed a similar eccentric pattern. That said, somewhere along the line my parents and I had become a sort of unit, functioning as one. Think one of those anime giant robots made of smaller ships, Voltron or something. Then imagine it functioning with the head section missing. Five years later we still feel that void.

So anyway, Pop was dead, the family business gone with him, and I was unemployed with no qualifications in a rural area with few job opportunities anyway. This was, and frankly still is, not a good situation. And my cousin Katharine thought she had a solution.

Katharine sent me a letter suggesting I make dolls. She’d shown the doll I’d made her to a dealer who said I had talent, and she sent me a copy of Art Doll Quarterly to show me that my “weird” stuff might have a market...

Honestly I felt inspired by this. I immediately seriously considered it. I’d work a bit bigger than 6″ scale, sculpt the clothes instead of the stress and tedium of sewing, and figure out a way to do ball joints. Because each thing would be unique (until I could teach myself mold making) and letting go of something I make is soooo hard for me, I decided to use the story of one of my painted boxes as inspiration. I’d make wolf people, which I figured would create enough sameness to help me let go, but enough variety to keep me from being bored. I quickly sketched out a reasonable design and got to work.

Obviously things didn’t turn out to be so simple. Sculpting ball joints by hand is fiddly to manage. It would need a bit of experimenting. I could do a head on day, casually. I could do the upper body, arms and waist joint  with a lot of effort another day. A third day would be waist and legs. Fourth day was the hellish threading. I wasn’t set up for safely storing unbaked work in progress, so I had to do these marathon one sitting sculptings on the bodies. Then I’d rest up a few days and just sculpt a few heads.

The ball jointing drove me nuts. So I gave myself permission to not worry about wolfheads, but just sculpt whatever head happened. From the backlog of heads I’d just pick one to experiment with body making. In just a couple months I was making progress.

The first discouragement came with an art show. The county has a sort of art society and they were having a sculpture show. I was scared silly to show my work to anyone, since at that point it was 2014 and I wasn’t even on Tumblr. No one had seen them. Still, when I went to see about entering the lady there was encouraging. I was soooo nervous and tentatively hopeful when I went to the grand opening with Mom amd my cousin Shirley. I was soon deflated. No one seemed to notice my figures. My work was the odd one out anyway in a sea of found object sculptures, colored paper masks and ceramics abstractly suggesting the figural. Also, everyone there knew each other and so no one was talking to me. At one point I did this really sad thing of hovering near my figures in case anyone came near so I could sorta maybe get them to notice them....

When the show ended a few weeks later the lady very nicely said at least a couple school children had liked weird figures, ‘cause, you know, kids like that fantasy stuff.  I definitely should sculpt a lot bigger and maybe use terra cotta instead....

Yeah. I felt my stuff was crap. I was crap. Why had I ever thought anyone would like my crap? Heck, I’d thought I’d at least find a club I could join, belonging, friends....

But, I kept at the doll making experimenting, crap or not. That winter it was too cold for much sculpting in my unheated house, but I could work on trying to figure out how to paint them....

Then life happened don’t ya know. At first I thought it was a temporary break while I dealt with crisis after another. I kept sculpting heads, strictly sculpting a head a day (still just an hour each)....until the spreading collapsed floor situation forced me to move the box I’d made for storing the bodiless heads out. And that was that for doll making.

Still, I kept sculpting. I went back to just the faces....

And that’s where I am now. I gave up sculpting every day, because I no longer have time. I watch a movie and sculpt. I bake the face and take pics I post on here. I wrap ‘em in tissue and put them in a storage container....

And that’s it.

I don’t do anything with them. I’m not entirely convinced there is any point anymore. My life isn’t going to include free time. Or tables to work on. It has been years after all, and it gets less and less likely I’ll make anything more than a few boxes full of chipped up sculpey faces for the nephews to find when I die. Well, unless they follow my brother’s advice and throw them out unopened! LOL

I sculpt just ‘cause I sculpt. I post pics of them on Tumblr, ‘cause Mom isn’t really all that interested in looking at them. They aren’t ever going to be anything, but I guess if I enjoy making them and someone out there likes looking at them that’s okay. They may be nothing, but that’s something.

[dvwolfbane-blog]

No Title yet

(Hello all! A little backstory: I have written a few web novels under different pen names, however, its always been half baked and i rarely finished any. This story, is one that I felt truly had some potential and has motivated me to give it my all. I wanted to share with as many people as I possibly could. Right now i'm still in the development process of it however i want to make a spin on how web novels are made. I want to post Chapters as I write them. Not like traditional ones that release volumes at a time with multiple chapters. I still don't have a tittle for the Web novel however I am very open for suggestions. Right now I have the Prologue and It is what I am going to be sharing here. I really hope you enjoy my small world i'm creating. )

Everything changed

Everything changed after the great hero died. He didn’t die from battle, he survived and lived a long life. While the hero was alive, life was good, the battle was won, our country received winners benefits for years to come and crime in the city was non existent. Petty thieves here and there but no real crime at least. The king was benevolent and gave all of the citizens their fair share of the spoils of war, took in refugees from the other countries, treated them how he treats his citizens with kindness and sympathy. A great king with the wisdom that could surpass the gods and the leadership that could unite all of the world one day.

“...Acceptable..take..a .. seat…”

The voice came from the magical circle next to the black board on the wall. I sat back down after answering the guidance question. We were 20 in the room plus ten guards. The walls were all grey with nothing to adorn them. All of the studentswere sat down neatly organized in four lines, everyone was sitting the same way. Back straight, head held high, legs closed and both arms resting on the desk, everyone’s expressions were blank whenever we came into this room. Our arm position was important today, in the top right corner of the black board were the words “Blunt” above a sketch of the human anatomy with a circle on the right forearm.

One more hour until we can leave this room.

I always kept the track of how long we’ve been in the room, there are no clocks to tell the time but with practice you can tell how long it has been. Just as I was finishing my guess the door opened. The guards shifted slightly to let whoever opened the door in. If this creature were to show its face to the general public it would cause mass panic and create unrest within the people. This creature was reptilian, its hind legs were slightly larger than his arms however you couldn’t tell because its muscles were very defined. While it walked on four legs its stature was that of a 3 foot child. The reptile was wearing a black shirt and a jacket without sleeves that had frills on the collars. At the front of the students, there was a large desk, nothing was adorning this desk however, the top had many scratches, dents and dried blood.

Once the reptile arrived in front of the desk the guards closed the door. Everyone’s expression was still blank and our gazes were looking forward at all times. The reptile stood up, its head was almost reaching the ceiling. The reptiles eyes shifted from left to right scanning all of the students. The reptile had a piercing gaze that would nearly petrify even the most veteran of warriors in the kingdom.

“Ahem, the next question is for Sato Ryoga.”

Thank the gods its not me.

The boy that stood up had short spiked blonde hair, he looks are average and his body looks very frail like a porcelain doll. I’ve known him for a few weeks, he used to talk a lot about his pet he had before becoming an orphan. Now a days he doesn’t talk much.

“ What state of a battle is more dangerous for the morale of its troops?

“ The death of its front lines!”

Completely wrong you Idiot.

The reptile squinted its eyes as it stared at Sato. The answer was so wrong that you could feel the murderous intent of the mammoth of a reptile that stood in front of us. The reptile stood still as the blue magic circle glowed. It was as if the reptile was waiting for the circle to speak before he took any action or moved on to another question.

“Un..Acceptable… take.. a...seat..”

Sato’s expression was still blank, however we could feel an aura of fear and panic. The reptile looked at one of the guards and gave him a quick nod. We all were still staring forward but we knew that the guard was smiling from ear to ear. He took a few steps forward and made his way to Sato’s seat. He stopped to Sato’s right side and took his baton out, normal batons were preferable, this baton looked twice as girthy and significantly more durable.

I hate this part

Crack.

The sound the baton made when it struck Sato’s right forearm was deafening, you could tell he didn’t hold back, they never do. Sato’s scream followed shortly. His forearm was crushed with the massive force that the guard swung at this young child’s arm. His fingers curled up the bone was clearly broken, his radial bone was sticking out slightly his deathly thin arms left nothing up for the imagination of what happened inside of his body.

The pain must have been too great for him.

The guard was smiling so much he started foaming at the mouth slightly, if you listened close enough you could probably hear him chuckling as he towered over what he had just done. Our expressions were still blank staring forward trying our best to ignore the shriek of pain that Sato was expressing. Luckly, my seat was two seats diagonally in front of him so I couldn’t see what happened to his forearm first hand.

The reptile was still staring at Sato as he was writhing in pain in his seat. “SILENCE”. Sato immediately suppressed his screaming however, his heavy breathing was still very audiable.

“Although the answer may have been correct under certain circumstances, there are more dangerous states on which a battle can affect the morale of its troops. Shizume! What is the answer?”

She stood up, her hair was beautifully black, her eyes were a gorgeous emerald color giving contrast to her face. I have known her for a few months, she was one of the few remaining survivors from the batch that arrived with her.

It’s like she was pulled off from the greatest piece of art in the world.

Everytime I had the chance to steal a glance at her I would. Without delay she answered, I was deathly afraid of her answer. I bet that we all felt the same way.

“ Although, there are many factors that affect the battlefield. The most dangerous stage for troops morale is nearing the final stage of a deciding battle when the commander’s life is in danger.”

We all felt like holding our breath for the mysterious voice to acknowledge her answer. The reptile’s eyes did not show any signs of her answer being wrong in its eyes. However, you could never know if the circle would accept it. There’s been many instances where his expressions did not match whether the answer was right or wrong. A few minutes went by, not a single sound was made the whole time. The loudest sound could be made if you drop a pin needle at the ground. The circle suddenly lit up, glowing as it always has before it gave a verdict.

“Acceptable..take..a...seat…”

Shizume bowed her head and sat back down. A barely audible tsk! Could have been heard coming from the direction of the rear guards. Relief would be the correct term that we students were thinking at the time. This feeling was fleeting as the reptile scanned us again. His tail fiercely struck the ground. We never could figure out what that meant, maybe he also felt relief, maybe he was also annoyed like the guard that the circle approved of her answer.

“ Next question, hmm.. Hime, At what point would a person or animal be considered dead?”

That’s a trick question.

Specimens as they call us, don’t get to kill until after the second week after we survive the constant testing and deprogram our personalities, the kill is what solidifies the deprograming on how we value life. The unfortunate souls that get murdered by children like us are usually criminals on death row, low lives or as rarely as I can count on my own two hands bystanders that got kidnapped. Our first kills are usually in a safe space where the victims are chained to the wall hands held high above their heads and blindfolded. The room was eerily white for the amount of killing that it has seen, my first time was one of the few that bystanders were used. She was a middle aged woman, you could tell she lived a fulfilling life and had wisdom by the way she spoke. Once I stepped into the room she guessed how many people were in the room by the sound of our steps. The guards stood by the door as I approached her. She was obviously scared given that her feet were shaking but her voice never waivered. She must have thought that I was a high ranking official when she asked for her daughter.

There was a table a few feet away from the woman, there were carefully sculpted details on the legs of the table, although I couldn’t make out what they were exactly. Anyone could tell that whoever made this was very experienced in his craft. On top of the table there were different objects. A sword, a mace, a knife, a wooden stick, a piece of wire, a wood cutting axe and a short bow with a single arrow on top. All of the weapons were in pristine conditions, not a single notch or thread out of place. The other thing that stuck out to me was the fact that none of the weapons had any distinguishing features that stood out.

I chose the knife, in my mind I wanted to make this as quick and painless as I possibly could. I had no choice, the guidance states “Once you enter the room the specimen must kill the insect that is chained on the wall, failure to do so will result in both participants to perish”.

I wish I could talk to this person

As I approached the woman with knife in hand, she seemingly turned to me.

“ Would you mind speaking to me? I heard you pick up something, it’s not hard to tell when you move stuff around since the other two haven’t moved a single muscle.”

I was surprised. The fact that she could tell all of this and remain calm and composed.

“I’m not quite sure what’s going on. Why am I being tied up? Who are you? What’s going to happen? Where is my daughter? Is she alright?”

My hands moved on their own, I grabbed her blindfold and ripped it off of her face. The sheer terror that she expressed gave me goosebumps. In front of this woman was a child no older than eight years old, deathly thin, hollowed blue eyes, cuts and bruises throughout his body, holding a knife while two guards were standing by the door. At that point in time she realized that was the end of her life. Again, my hands moved before my brain could react and her throat split in two.

“Acceptable”.

“The moment that a person or animal could be considered dead is the moment their bodies stop moving”

Wrong.

She gave her answer as quick as my own flashback came to my mind. Hime’s looks could be condensed to one word, Tomboy. Her hair was cut short and flipped to the sides a little, her eyes are usually always playful when we’re outside of this room.

The reptile looked at the rear guard and gave him the nod before the circle gave its verdict. We all knew what was going to happen but still we waited. A few minutes went by what seemed like hours. The circle lit up, we all knew what was going to happen from here on.

“Un...acceptable.. take..a..seat”

The guard that stepped next to Hime was fairly tall and bulky. His face was grinning from ear to ear. The guard didn’t pull out a baton, the guard raised his fist and slammed it down on her right forearm.

Crack.

Her screams filled the room with the same violence that Sato’s was. The guard used a brass knuckle. The reptiles tail slammed on the ground again “SILENCE”. Although it gave a command Hime was still writhing in pain yelping here and there. Anger filled the reptile that a specimen was not immediately following commands.

“Silence her”

The reptile looked at the guard again and nodded. The same guard walked back to the side of her. The same grin was on his face as the last time he stood by her side.

Crack.

And with another punch she was knocked out cold. Both blows were fierce and relentless in strength. We all sat quietly as the room became silent once more.

“Vitals”

The guard placed his fingers on her neck.

“Normal”

“Brain activity”

A magic circle appeared right on top of Hime it glowed a faint green color.

“No damage”

The guard walked back to his position still smiling from ear to ear. Hime’s body slumped over the desk, her arms dangled at her side, the guard struck her hard enough to leave his brass knuckles imprinted on her face and forearm. The reptile slammed his tail against the floor again. His eyes were scanning for his next specimen.

“Kugo, the answer”

Shit

As I stood up, I could feel everyone’s hopes of me getting this answer correctly. I’ve answered all of the questions today correctly and this week I have been on a hot streak avoiding getting beaten. I also felt the anger of all the guards, how they wish I get this question wrong so they could obliterate my forearm.

“ The death of a being could be surmised to the body seizing all movements. However, on certifying a death heart pulse must be zero and brain activity must cease. Furthermore, the victims eyes become glossy and… misty would be the best I could describe it”

The reptiles eyes were bloodshot, it was wearing its rage on its sleeves. It was unhappy at my answer. A few minutes went by and the circle glowed. I was holding my breath once it lit up.

Please

“Acceptable..take..a...seat”

Relief. It’s tail slammed the ground again, slightly stronger this time. I think the reptile wanted me to get hurt, since I haven’t had anything happen to me in a week. As I sat back down the murderous intent of the guards grew. The most noticeable one was the one guard that always struck me in class. His rage was like the reptile’s, he was wearing it on his sleeve. Normally, before you get released into this phase the guards had the option to strike the specimens whenever they pleased due to deprogramming. However, once the specimen passes, they no longer can strike without just cause.

As the reptile opened its mouth to speak the circle lit up again.

It’s time

“Today’s class phase is over, specimens that have damage report to the medical ward for healing. Specimens not harmed may leave for the recreation area. Specimens that are unable to move due to injury or special instructions may stay seated until agents arrive”

We all got up and bowed to the reptile as it made its exit. The guards shifted slightly to let its massive body pass through the door. The first guard to leave was the one that emitted the most rage when I answered correctly, he must have had something special in mind today. The guards remaining stood still watching over us as we got up to leave. More than half of the specimens had their forearms broken and needed to be taken to the healing ward. The rest of us were guided over to the recreation area where we were instructed to study for the classes next day.

[frogsandfries]

I was just pondering deeply

I keep picking up duplicate Monster High minis, which is annoying. A while back, I saw a suggestion to customize them, which I guess could be fun. Then I kind of stumbled onto the realization that it could also be good painting practice. They're only like three bucks apiece, and I wanted to make tiny little wallpapers for the little coffin lockers. I could use some practice painting, since even the most artful resin pour still demands detailing and I balk at the thought of picking up a brush because I'm always terrified that my lack of mastery will ruin my piece. I wish I had half as many hours of mastery in painting that I have in sculpture, but it's never too late to invest the hours. For three dollars (and assuming the outer packaging is .75 and the coffin is a dollar, the figurine comes out to about half that price), these figurines are great practice for my miniature work.

Then I got to pondering all those Monster High dolls I currently own, and how much cumulative space they take up, how much money I might be able to put aside if I put a little effort into customizing them and getting rid of them. But honestly, I believe the Monster High craze is fizzling (although almost certainly at Mattel's own hands), and even as artist dolls, I'm not sure how easy it would be to find buyers for them. Even if I used eBay and tried to auction them, I'm still not sure. But I have these dolls, and I sunk an incredibly ridiculous amount of money into them, knowing even as I bought them that the craze might be dying. I'm not just going to throw them away or donate them. That's crazy talk. But maybe now that the pressure that I invented in my head when I bought them--the pressure of newly spent money and the pressure to delight, impress and interest a very specific audience--is very much dead, I can focus solely on having fun, on experimenting and practicing. I definitely feel like I can customize the dolls utterly at my leisure, and sell them as I do, with little worry about imaginary pressure from an audience that doesn't exist.

This reminds me, though, of a discussion I had with a co-worker. And my ex.

Maybe my focus isn't too broad. Maybe I've just been framing it wrong. My focus is largely on figures and sculpture. It's not that I want to customize dolls and make my own, but I also make charms for bracelets/phones/necklaces, etc, and I sometimes sculpt Pokemon figurines. It is that my focus is on figures and sculpture. That's not too broad at all, just very vague while being specific. There's no law saying that if I want to be an artist, I can only ever make one specific kind of thing for the rest of my life. However, it does make it easier to describe my portfolio in a few words than trying to describe everything that's going on in my studio. And charms fall under sculpture, and sometimes figurines. Ball jointed dolls are figures, customized dolls are figures. Pokemon sculptures can be described as figurines.

There's not really any point in letting others tell me what to do in my studio, with my studio practice. All of that is my business. But it does make things more accessible when I can be succinct about describing what I do as an artist. I'm still not sure how I might do something like a website, or a shop, with all of my various forms of exploration and expression. It's unclear how a fan might feel when they expect one thing from me, and I'm currently pursuing something that is on the surface, very different from what they like. It shouldn't bother me. I doubt I'm ever going to have a body of work worth recognizing and being excited about. It's too bad my focus is scattered in the studio; my focus scattered in all of my life doesn't make things easier..... Perhaps if I could fully devote myself to my studio practice, I could focus on cohesion in my portfolio, building up each compartmentalized element into a stand-alone body of work. For example, if I could have been working since August, instead of dangling on the edge of homelessness for a month and devoting myself to revamping my van into a space meant for living for two, I probably could have been working on painting those charms, trying to find a new sealant, and sculpting a few more Pokemon..... I might even have experimented with making some anime style figurines.

However, if I hadn't found myself in a perfect situation to try going generally off-grid, I might never have gotten to thinking about what it would take to downsize my possessions. I might never have returned my imagination to the Monster High dolls, and how I might get rid of them.

Although, to be honest, now that I am thinking about them again, I find myself wanting the troll, to know which boys I don't have, and that new tree doll. Plus, whatever else I've missed out on since I set side my aspirations to be a doll customizer. As it is, I hope I don't freeze up when I'm faced with the reality of how many dolls I already have to work on....