I set out my bones, ready for cleaning and bleaching, went inside to get a beer, and came back out to see my dogs munching on the choicest. This is the danger of working with bones, my dogs share my obsession.
In making the Hexen I worked from the broomstick up. So by the time each broomstick was done I had a good idea of the type of witch who owned it.
I tend to work fairly compulsively on my sculptures. I don't over think things, and I let my intuitive side take over. It feels as if the sculpture I'm making is telling me what to do, and I'm just going along for the ride. Anyway, these Hexen exhausted me. And it didn't stop at three, after the Raven Hexen, two more witches demanded to be made. These two were pretty out there, with one having a little demon, and the bone equivalent of fluffy dice hanging from her broomstick, and the other insisting on a ridiculously feathery broomstick, and a boa. I said no to the boa.