With the doors in good shape, I turned to the skeleton on the box. I wanted it to straddle the box with the left arm and leg on the back and the hand resting on the top of the box. It started with a drawing on the clay and then I started sculpting in low relief.
It didn't take long to finish the legs. But I soon realized that the the forearm was in the wrong place. I wouldn't be able to position the hand on the top of box where I wanted it, so I repositioned the forearm. Not too much work.
That done, it would seem that it was in pretty good shape. Not quite. If the elbow was on the back of the box, the upper arm would have to bend (or as bones do...break) to get around the corner of the box. Ah well. I'd missed that one too.
I skinned off the entire arm, sculpted the forearm in a good position for the hand and with the elbow at the corner of the box...better. You just can't cover all your bases. I added the foot and called it a day, relatively happy with the finished relief on the back of the box. I usually don't deal with this level of trial and error and I was a little afraid that it didn't bode well for the course that this piece might take. Some sculptures just fall into place easily, others are worked and reworked and make your life miserable....not a good sign for the finished product. I was still unsure how this piece would go. But at this point, it wasn't looking promising.
My name is F.E. Young. The initials are in no way an attempt to desguise the fact that I am female. In fact, I'm happy and proud to be female...it suits me. My problem is with my name. In 1951 my mother named me Frances. This was timed perfectly for my eighth year to coincide with appearence of 'Frances the Talking Mule' movies on television. I became "Francie" just in time for the Gidget movies. For those of you who remember - Gidget's name was Francie. I suddenly found myself called "Fidget." But as an artist I signed F.E. Young. the initials spelled Fey, my grandmother's name and it stuck.