So, what are those bizzaros from yesterday?
They're hamsas. At least, they're attempting to be. A hamsa is a sort of luck charm, like a God's Eye or a shamrock, shaped like a funky double-thumbed hand. Check them out:
Anyway. When I was first starting to work with polymer clay, lo these many years ago, I wanted to get in touch with other clay-people, and this was the most interesting swap I could find that I could also do-- no canework or reputation required, very important for me at the time! We were encouraged to be creative, so I decided to just go with the silhouette of a hamsa and improvise the interior. I made some with turtles, people,and, still surviving here, fish...and cats. AMOzark is the first person EVER to guess those were cats on the first go, for which that one is totally hers, should she want it (and Mermaiden is free to claim the fishies, because I love the idea of a living seaweed Easter basket).
I don't know whether anyone else in the swap liked the hamsas of mine they got; I never heard back from any of them, which had been a theme of my swap of experience, which is why I never do swaps anymore. But I do know I wasn't happy with them. And I know I enjoyed making them, quite a bit. Because as soon as they were done, I set out on another big claying project.
My point, if I have to have one, is this: people try to compliment my art by saying I have talent, and I say no, and right here is some proof. A talented person would have had some modicum of grace in their craft from the get-go. What I have in my work is fun, even if nobody else cares, even if nobody else ever sees it; and because of that, a whooooole lotta practice. And sometimes I get better; I AM happy with the clays in my shop, right now, even while I'm looking for new directions to take it in. Talent is really not part of the equation. And that's...ok. It's fun.
Also, I have very smart blog readers. Thanks for playing along, ya'll! Now I must duck the thunder again...