Taking my time

The nice thing about procrastinating is that it gives me time to think about things.

Every time I thought about this sculpture project, tentatively titled Baba Yaga Takes a Lodger, I thought of another problem, found another solution. Case in point: Chicken legs.

I'd gotten a scaly texture on clay before with lace, rolling it into the surface. Unfortunately, that was in my Craft Center days, and I foolishly left all those bits and scraps behind when I left the job in 1998. Nothing at the fabric store looked convincing. One of the potters at Club Mud had a strip of lace that might have worked, but wouldn't let me borrow it, and I wasn't ready to start the project then and there during my last firing.

The roulette was a total accident. I made a completely different one to make roof tiles. It was scalloped with popsicle-stick depressions, and kinda worked, but not really. Too cute, too Beatrix Potter. Also, the impressions were ragged-edged, a little erratic. I decided I either needed thatch roof, or wooden shakes. The latter are easy enough to model with a piece of end-grain wood, so that's what I decided to do. I consigned my roofing roulette to the recycle bucket where it dissolved to slip.

But the idea stayed. I pulled out all of my modeling tools. Made a set of long scale impressions on one side of a roll, smaller, deeper ones on the other. Filled in the space with dimples of a couple of different sizes in a random pattern. Dried it and tried it and it worked. Far better than I had any expectation of.

That wasn't the only custom tool I made for this job. I usually use tools sanded from bamboo chopsticks to model facial features. These figures were so tiny that I ended up making a new set of miniature tools from bamboo skewers.

Other problems were easier. How do make a brick chimney? Press the edge of a ruler into the slabs to make horizontal courses. Make seams between the individual bricks with a flat-cut popsicle stick.


How do I make clapboard siding? Press the edge of a board into the slab, many, many times. How do I get the siding to line up at corners? Don't bother. This is a witch's house. Decor is not a priority. I almost made it a good deal more rickety, but decided if the house was alive (which I assumed. Chicken legs, remember?), it would probably heal from minor wear and tear.

Figuring out how to safely support the house on the legs took most of last year. It finally occurred to me to make the house and legs separately, fire them separately, assemble them later.


Some questions didn't get answered until I actually cut into the clay. I had three different ideas for the front steps, actually cut out two different templates, and then didn't use any of them. I realized the steps as visualized were just too big. If I made the steps shorter than the bottom of the door, a) they'd be free-standing and easier to fire without breaking, and b) it'd give the impression that the house was in the act of squatting down to meet its front stoop.

So here's Baba Yaga Takes a Lodger. Time to recycle the scrap, start the long, slow drying process, think about glazing.

Oh, and probably? Start making pots again.