So I must admit after much hard work and sore hands I went through a period of almost, totally not liking my own doll. Disappointment. Looking at her and thinking, "oh you are so not cute" all right I will say it "ugly" And feeling badly about it. She is my creation how could I not like her?
So yesterday when I picked her up, suddenly she had a name, Penelope! With a name she became real, and feeling real I suddenly realized I did like her. She is mentoring me through this doll making process. She is teaching me. And I am learning so much from her! I know she will always be here, my first doll and she will be prized for all her lessons. She is beautiful in her own way and she is mine!
She will be like her predecessor
Hmmmmmmm posing like a dog, well maybe.
My own mother not a sewer, but both my grandmothers were. I remember how much I loved finding the long forgotten scraps and what nots and wanting to turn them into things. I was probably about 9 or 10 when I made this "Bug" , rounded up what I could find, scraps, buttons, blue thread, orange thread, and wowla!