Sculpy Fun

This new doll is 9 inches tall while the other two are 6 1/2 inched tall. If the other two get legs they'll all end up the same height. I did research the Sculpy composition and found it is PVC, a plastic with known health risks, so I don't intend to use it once I'm no longer snowbound. I'm baking it in an old canner with a lid that was out in the barn. I won't use it for food. So thank you for the suggestions about the health concerns.

I don't have a pasta press but I do have an etch press so that is what I used to roll out quarter inch slabs. It worked great.

I formed the skirt over a paper cup with half a plastic Pom juice bottle taped to the top for the billowing skirt shape. Then I pinched the slabs together around the sides.

This is the skirt being attached to the bodice which I'd already baked. The second trip through the cooking process worked; the whole thing of course was an experiment as I'm a Sculpy virgin.

The cup came right out of the baked skirt but the Pom bottle collapsed in the oven. That was alright though, its job was done.

I spent two days on Maybelle and we're still housebound. No Christmas photographs of the family, no leftovers from the feast. John and I determined at 10 am on Christmas day that the roads were still too hazardous to venture forth; even the taxi service declined to try to get us to our celebration. So John and I had a modest repast with each other, clasping hands and saying a prayer of gratitude for our loving family and for having each other.

I love the way projects like these dolls have a way of taking over mid-stream and becoming who they are instead of who you planned them to be. Maybelle was going to have a soft body and fabric dress in my imagination but she put her little non-existent foot down and insisted on a skirt to match those of her sisters. I just got out of her way.

She has a determined little chin. And looks kind of snooty from this angle.

No iridescence or gold twinkles for this girl. She's the quiet type.

Very prim and stiff she is and not as talkative as her sisters.

I discovered a bruise from kneading the clay; what a fragile puss I've become. I knew I could depend on my friends for sympathy so here it is - my little boo boo. I think I've earned my glass of wine!