Rough draft w/Glenlivet, Pope's poetry, and Dougie MacLean's Scottish music.
Wet clay. A very forgiving medium. Easy to recycle too. Half-hour break.I'm thinking about--but ignoring--Denham's lines on the Thames right about now.
I'd been reading one of Martha Grimes' Richard Jury novels, and that character made me think of Virgil, which made me think of Roman river gods, which made me recall the 18th-century poets I've been reading around in too.
None of which matters really, other than to say "I am playing with clay," and that's a good thing. Oh, and to recommend Grimes' Deer Leap, say, or Five Bells and Bladebone.
The next step is to let that mask sit and harden enough to work the features more fully, more appropriately. I've got the basic set, but I haven't decided on the expression quite yet. There's a slight smile at present, but that came second; at first, I was channeling my anger and unease at the world today, but that's not why I pick up the clay. I need to feel my way into this figure, this character. What is he trying to tell me? This is a river god, so I want to listen. I can't quite hear him yet.
"In progress" is a healthy phrase.
