The last few days have seen me working with clay. All types of clay....apoxey, paper and sculpey (not sure what kind this is but it bakes to harden whereas the others can but it isn't necessary). I never knew that clay could be such fun, well in the way I am using it now anyway, and so absolutely infuriating at the same time.
Working with this clay has made me realize that I need to work in a room that is covered in plastic and that I need to be suited up in one of those very feminine hazmat suits, you know face shield, giant gloves, etc. I have found the clay in my hair, stuck between journal pages, on the floor (not good - as Tom's Mother used to say), on shoes....well you get the picture. I can't quite understand how the clay goes from my hand to the pasta roller aka clay roller to the protected work surface to the studio oven but somehow ends up in the bathroom. What's up with that???
Speaking of the pasta/clay roller thingie I have to say yes it saves my hands from all of that hard clay conditioning handwork that I'm just not up to (read I don't want to do it and I ain't gonna do it) BUT the handle keeps falling out and onto the floor!!! I cannot tell you how many times I ended up bending over and picking that thing up! So, I am having an absolute love/hate relationship with this roller but for now it stays as I am, at this moment, willing to put up with the bending over if I don't have to learn how to knead clay.
This morning as I passed by the dining room table, yes the one that was cleaned off for a fleeting moment, I looked at the clay and felt myself half smiling half sneering at the thought of the beautiful creations that I would make with it. I'm feeling that I have a case of the Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde sickness where this very versatile medium comes into play.
With that being said look for images tonight of a few creations that I will be finishing up. Either that or one of me at Abuelo's with a Margarita Meltdown in hand.