This blog will be about beautiful things.
I have been sculpting non-stop for the past two days. Trying to force my proportions into perfection. The angle of a finger, the bend of the wrist, the width of the arm. I want it to say so much.. about life, hope, anticipation, the joy of being pregnant. I want to be able to feel baby Kennedy snuggled up in her mommy's tummy. Yet it is so elusive.
The longer I work and struggle the more I fall in love.... What is it about sculpting that pulls and draws at me like a drug?
