I wish I could turn my brain off, but most of the time I am not only writing my autobiography, I am figuring out the soundtrack as well, and wondering who should play my character. And as the days progress, I am almost wishing someone would pick a fight or push me over the edge because it would make such a great story. (Go ahead, just splash me with your car so I'm wet from head to toe. Make my day. I'll put your license number in my blog.) This all makes it hard to carry on a conversation sometimes.
But let's start with my most comfortable topic, what I'm making right now, and if other topics make it in here today, so be it. I am quite pleased with my newest doll-in-progress, which came about because of a class with Barbara Schoenfeld. I liked her for a couple of reasons. 1) She is talented; 2) She had an asymetrical haircut; 2) She livened things up by posing a question to the group (on the second day, after she got to know us) along the lines of, "If you had a free pass from your husband, who would you sleep with?"
Now, I am one of the youngest in the group here, and let's just say not everyone was onboard with this "Red Tent" talk. So for that reason alone it was fascinating to watch the group's reaction. Meanwhile, I was scrabbling to find something to write with because there seemed to be so many possibilities I had not even heard of. After Hugh Jackman and the new James Bond guy, I was stumped. Not these girls! And this demonstrates, I think, a telling difference between dollmakers and say, quilters. Woo hoo!
Which brings up a short aside - the homework for this class was to have the body parts sewed and stuffed, and running short of time as I always am, I decided to bring the body parts to my daughter's football game and get them stuffed while I watched the game. Genius! Play with dolls and be perfect attentive mom too!
So the leg in question is pictured here. Halfway through the game, Jessica comes bounding up the stadium stairs, in her microscopic cheerleading outfit and a furrowed brow, demanding to know what I'm doing. "Three people have asked me what the heck my mom is doing in the stands." She even said that the cheerleading sponsor said her husband was no longer watching the game because he couldn't keep his eyes off of what I might be doing.
For the record, I was STUFFING a damn leg with a stuffing fork. I don't know what he thinks I was doing. As I think back, I am wondering what I was thinking. I remember my husband making a couple of rude remarks suggesting I put the thing away, but heck, I don't ever think his idea of reasonable behavior is trustworthy when this is a guy who pees off the backporch at home.
I think I thought it was like being in my car, where everyone knows you are invisible. In looking at the leg, I considered that it might be misconstrued, but I thought, aw, people will surely understand this is a very shapely man's leg, I have a doll class tomorrow, and give me the benefit of the doubt and besides, I really need to get this done. It strikes me now that I understand why the couple sitting nearby (whom we have known for years) did not even say TWO WORDS to us the entire time.
So I can't WAIT for the next football game tomorrow night. Apparently half the spectators on the Waltrip side will be waiting to see what I'll pull out of my bag. The very idea. p.s. Patrick Swayze and Shelley Long both graduated from Waltrip. Put that in your pipe and smoke it.
Anyway. So I like this doll because it's the first time I made a guy, and I like that he's rather fat (even if does look a bit like a headless chicken or turkey right now), and I like that there's a lot of pattern and layers to his costume. I actually planned the color palette before I started on him, because I am less and less inclined to be comfortable just winging it. I want things to look like they belong together, not like I cast blindly into my stash and came out with a fistful of possibilities (which is my usual approach).
I love his little moustache, (which he DEMANDED I add) and I think he's Italian. For now, anyway, I am toying with the name Mauricio. Barbara's version is much more stately. My darling little children think he looks like a baker.
So tomorrow, my goal is to finish his vests and jacket and maybe attach his head. But none of this will happen at the football game. They'll think I'm doing something weird with a turkey. Sickos.
Love & kisses, m



















