Me and myself.
Feeling:: contemplative
Listening to:: Radical Face - Homesick
I've been keeping my polymer clay stash on the floor next to my computer and fiddling around with it whenever I get an idea or need a break from whatever computer-stuff I happen to be working on (which is relatively often). There's been no theme to what I've produced thusfar, outside of the shared media. I've made skulls -even more than you saw previously, though none are remarkable enough to photograph. I've made rainbows, which I believe to be destined for brooch-dom:
Rainbows
I've made cuttlefish, these for necklace-dom. I named them after PZ Myers, who I greatly admire as a scientist, blogger and (from what little I know of him a la internet) person. Having clay cephalopods named after you is a dubious honor at best, but hey, it makes me smile.
I call them P and Z
After deciding the rainbows just didn't cover all the bases, I've made little purple-magenta-blue triangles, also destined for brooch-dom (and maybe a necklace... maybe).
Represent!
And then, faced with a wealth of pink pearl clay and a distaste for pink, I began to make me. Now I've never been much of a doll girl- I've rarely owned them, rarely played with them as a child, and certainly never made my own. I've never been much of a self-portrait type either, outside of my art journal (wherein it's never just me but instead me with symbols and words and the ilk- me as an accent to communicate another idea, not me as the focus, not me as just me).
Well, I thought, I'm always up for trying something new. Thus decided, I took up my clay and I began to sculpt.
...it's a leg. Yeah.
I started with the kind of basic, stylized form I've seen from other polymer clay artists with a penchant for doll-making, then looked at my little clay stick figure and said "That's not me." For one thing, I've got curves.
Strange reflections
And so I added breasts and hips and thighs. I pinched in wrists and ankles and contemplated how hyperaware I was of my own flesh at that moment, while trying to rebuild it in malleable pink clay. I contemplated how I couldn't fool myself about what I was proud of (strong calves- fill those in) and what I was uncomfortable with (I'll come back to my thighs later), and contemplated why it is I'm uncomfortable with my own anatomy. I did a lot of contemplating.
I don't know what I'll do with it when I'm done, but that's okay. This one, I'm definently in it for the process.





Your body parts look rather like the aborted "fetuses" that are on those big posters that Justice For All (anti-abortion group) put up on college campuses. Maybe that's where they get them.