Hide and seek

In all honesty I have been coming into the studio late. I work weekends, I work most days, but I love what I do. If I'm not writing, I'm sculpting, but this weekend I took time for family and I did something I have not done in a very long time. I made a pillow.

Anyway...In the afternoon evenings I'm coming in to the studio. I have a few days alone with Norma, no interns, nothing going on and I'm so excited. The dog Kippy sits on the other side of the room whimpering for me to get back to him. Norma's boots are roughed in and I swear they are also tapping, waiting to be put on a body. Norma's hands are in another part of the studio.  But I keep coming back to Norma's face.

It is a game of hide and seek. It is funny. I have had this hide and seek feeling mostly with kids who have died of accidents. I would not expect to have it with Norma. But for the last week, I sculpt in the evening, feel like I am getting closer, and then walk away. The next day I come back and I can see it differently.  Each day I make a mess, talk to Norma and look and hundreds of photographs. Each night I clean the clay from my fingers, load up my computer, clean the clay off the bottom of it before bringing it into bed and then go to bed hoping she will greet me in the morning.

I was talking to my sister yesterday and told her about a portrait that I did of a doctor. I felt so good about it all night long. I was having a grand time with it and felt confident. I closed up shop and in the morning when I came in, set my things down on the counter and turned around I found I had an entirely different man in my studio. What I had labored over for so long was my own deceased father.  I spoke right out loud, "What on earth are you doing here dad and where is the doctor?"

So, though Norma is taking stage in the evening, I want to be sure she is there in the morning.