The next to last day, my teacher Barney Hodes told me that the last director of the program would have loved me like a son. She was a miser and knew nothing about sculpture so my modicum use of clay would have pleased her. He said that I need to work bigger and to pile more clay on so that I can actually sculpt instead of build from bare bones. He did say that I captured some nice angles and shapes, and overall, it was a good start, but next time he wants me to work bigger.
This next to last day left me almost in tears for some reason. I felt like every person, including the model, whose name I have learned is Pigeon, was against me . . . not from anything said, but from looks and body language. Was that a smirk? I felt defeated and wanted to cry. What a dark night to enter after class ended.
Then the next day, the last day, arrives, and I enter with an open heart and a fresh attitude and everything is brighter. Sure, the face looks like the mask of Michael Myers, but I was proud of the effort invested in the piece. Pigeon complimented it. Two of my classmates came up to me and told me that I had done a nice job. And then it was over.
I took some photographs. And then tore her down. The interesting photo shoot of the tearing down I'll save for later. Next week, new model. It's a man. And maybe I'll just focus on his butt.
this is my version of Pigeon looking crestfallen because she is not being cast (the casting room is in the background). The decontruction photoshoot is quite interesting and looking back on it, I should have cast one of those. Will post those photos soon.