It's been a whirlwind of activity for us here in Seagrove. The spring celebration/studio tour is two weeks away, and Jeff needs to get his ducks in a row for his trip to Korea at the end of the month. The pig supply is running low so we decided to work together to move them along more quickly. Jeff threw all the bodies one evening before dinner...
The next day they were ready for assembly, which is where I took over. I first use my clay gun to extrude the tubes that will be become legs, ears, and tails...
I then cut the extruded parts into the correct leg lengths, score and attach them to the bodies. After attaching the legs I smooth and pull them slightly with wet hands so they look a little less like extruded parts.
After the legs I use a whole cutter for the eyes and score where the ears will be placed. As I am scoring and spongeing on water I can't help but think I am the esthetician, manicuring this little pigs eyebrows... don't they look like eyebrows?
I roughly shape two extruded parts into a half moon and adhere them to those "eyebrows". I then pull and smooth them into ear shapes. I like to use a synthetic sponge to wipe away finger marks and excess water. The thing I like about this type of sponge is that it is less apt to bring up the grog in the clay.
With wet fingers his ears get a little whimsical bend...
Tails are attached with a finger squish on the top and of course a little curl!
The best use for a credit card is as a guide for cutting the slot!
Ta-Da! He is done... this little guy got the word BACON branded on his sides.
You may have noticed that I was working on this with paper between the pig and the banding wheel. It helps prevent the legs from sticking and getting screwed up. I usually work on a plaster bat the size of the the banding wheel. I hadn't been able to find it until yesterday afternoon.
It took me about a day and a half to assemble nineteen pigs, I could never work in a production setting! When I am working on these guys I find myself talking to them and telling them what's going to happen next, or apologizing for having to reset a leg! I guess my motherly instincts find there way into the clay.