Feet, Hands

Today's drawings all seem to me to go with the rusty child form-- for their stiffness, their relation to bodies and body parts, their air of oldness and oddness and poignancy.  The two metal shoe lasts, one in child size and one in women's size, were used in shoe repair.  They functioned like a sort of anvil when slipped inside a shoe that needed heels or soles or heel caps replaced.  I use mine for studio weights, but I keep them on a window sill and enjoy their silhouettes with light coming in behind them.

On the right hand page are some hands:  I bought the mannequin hand at the top from a mannequin shop in the garment district in NYC.  It was an older model and priced to sell fast.  I could not tell it from the newer model, however;  the difference was too subtle for me to discern.  The two tiny hands were made by my friend Loy as part of an art installation.  They are impossibly small and perfectly articulated, made of bisque-fired porcelain clay, and they live on one of my bookshelf edges in a small matchbox.