When you are a designer, or craftsperson, or artist, it's a bit like being a parent. Your creations all have their quirks and flaws but you want the best for them and hope that they will go out into the world to be appreciated. When you notice that one design tends to be neglected, you feel a bit defensive of it. You might give it a better spot at the next market you do, in the hope that it will catch someone's eye and feel better about itself. When this approach repeatedly fails, at long last you give in and let it retire from public view where it can no longer be humiliated. But cleaning out shelves or reorganising stock, you sometimes come across it, and when you do, you tell it that somewhere there is someone who would love it if they ever saw it.
I have a number of these ugly ducklings. I fear, in my heart of hearts, that they will never be swans. But I love them all the same. What they lack in commercial appeal or beauty or appropriateness, they make up for in idiosyncrasy, or outright weirdness. And just to show that I by no means disown them or am ashamed of them, here they are.
My werewolf. Well, I'm not really sure if he's a werewolf or a troll. I painted him around the time I was obsessed with 'Peer Gynt' which teems with trolls, but now he looks more like a werewolf to me. I modelled him very loosely on my husband who has rather amazing cheekbones but not, I am glad, an extra pair of ears.
As a greetings card, the Werewolf has limited usability. There are a lot of people who, on receiving this as a birthday card, would wonder just what exactly the sender was trying to say about their eyebrows. I like the coldness of the landscape behind, and I like the personality of the werewolf who does not, I think, much care about his unpopularity. I also like his coat, and wish I could find one like it.
My Carnivorous Lipstick Beetle. She wears high heels and inhabits shaded corners of jazz bars. I will admit that she is a bit jaded with it all, but give her a gin & tonic - or maybe just a gin - and she'd have plenty of anecdotes to tell you.
My Kobold.
A kobold is like a brownie - he'll clean your house but get very annoyed if you are messy. The element Cobalt was named after kobolds, because they were meant to infest mines.
I have lots more of these - my Lady-troll, my Trainspotter-troll, my Top-hat Man ... which I might and might not display at a later date. These three were feeling particularly down today, when I found them in a box on a bottom shelf. I said I'd bring them out for the morning so they could have a look around the internet. I'm pretty sure the Werewolf is off to some blog about travelling rough; the Carnivorous Lipstick Beetle has probably already beetled off to an mp3 of Billy Holiday, and as for the Kobold with his cleaning mania - much as I love him, I have to admit he's headed for some Youtube clips of Kim & Aggie's Housecleaning adventures.
