Try Something Different

Once upon a time, I made tiny leather saddles and bridles for tiny model horses for people to use ON those tiny little horses - whether simply for pleasure in displaying or in fierce competition with fellow hobbyists. This was my fun and this was my business. This, more or less, was my life.

Then the lure of the "dollhouse" world beckoned. Our "Classic" scale Breyer model horses were used often in the most popular 1:12 scale (1 inch = 1 foot) set-ups and vignettes. Many people dealt primarily with Victorian-era themed doll-houses. Victorian era people used horses like we use cars and trucks. Ever onward!

After doing some mail-order business through magazines such as "Nutshell News" and doing a few local miniature shows I was ready to brave The Big Time. Big Time was the National Show held each year by the National Association of Miniature Enthusiasts (NAME). Each year it was held in a different  region of the country. One had to be a member of NAME, stay at the Hyatt, pay booth fee, travels expenses, and, most important of all, get juried in! This happened long ago - 1995  or 1996. I was an innocent. I sent in my application in and was Happy when receiving word that I was a vendor. I think this show was in Kansas City, and it was the week before Breyerfest in Lexington, Kentucky. Hoorah. A family "working vacation." Again, but doubling up the "fun" this time.

We packed the station wagon and off we went!

While registering at the Hyatt I received two info badges. One read "Vendor." One read "First Timer." I thought nothing of this...UNTIL getting many curious stares from folks walking nearby,  or riding next to us in the hotel elevator. I learned that THIS JUST DOES NOT HAPPEN. People apply for years and YEARS to vend at this event. The innocent became slightly less so. Life Lesson: Find a Niche. FILL IT.

Anyway, the next year we also did the national show - this time in Crystal City, MD (I think). We never did great, money -wise, but we made expenses,new friends, saw AMAZING craftsmanship - down to 1/144 scale (think dollhouses for your dollhouse's dollhouse), and all in all had a great time learning about a new world at it's highest level. Or close. Some day I might write about making Artisan status in the International Guild of Miniature Artisans, and the next year missing Fellow status by two or three specks of glue on leather... Oh, well, life goes on.

This is the LONG way around to showing off another short-lived facet of my miniature work. Saddles and bridles were "work." I needed a Hobby. Yeah, right. Well, I tried. For the tiniest while I sculpted beasties, made them stand on their hind feet and dressed them in clothing as befitted the situation. Here are three hippos that started life in a sketchbook and ended up living at the home of a lovely friend, living in Green Bay, Wisconsin, who is more than fond of collecting hippos.

The story, as I knew it, had the young sister hippo dealing with her "evil" older brother. He'd taken her red ball and was hiding it behind his back. Dad hippo was dealing with this bed-time trouble as best he could. (No, I do not know out-come of this situation.)

Getting these three from sketchbook to actual hippo-ness required at least the following:
1) the will to succeed
2) basic knowledge of hippo anatomy and color
3) dealing with moveable wire armatures (yes, these three can pose)
4) learning more about oven-baked clays (I'd sculpted a few small equines earlier)
5) messing with fabric (not my favorite thing) and leather (one of my favorite things)
6) painting human emotions onto hippo heads
7) patience in making them able to balance on their own
8) CARING about doing a good job
9) respecting each as an individual
10) carrying through to finished scene

And, after many many many hours -  "Ta da!"

I also did a lovely porker in 1950's red dress, heart-decorated apron, and leather handbag. I don't know where she is. My favorite is still in our odd collection. He is The Guinea Pig Baker - based on our beloved " Gingersnap" and sporting white apron while carrying cookie sheet.

For money I was asked to create a cigar-smoking, derby-hat wearing, vested Spotted Bulldog. He turned out great and the client loved him, but I knew that sculpting these one-of-a-kind pieces was NOT a career path. (I've never HAD a career path...) The wire and clays and paints got put away and have never again been touched. Except to be moved in the rare event of art supply shelves getting cleaned.

But here's the Life Lesson. I'd TRIED Something Different. Different Shows, Different Ideas, Different Results. And no, if I can recall them, I have great memories, a few different skills, and ideas for even more different things.

Dare to have a go, yourself? Hip, hip, hooray!

Fare-thee-well,
Sue