Sometimes I feel that the work of creating my dolls is a constant process of stitching and unpicking.
This boy was almost done yesterday evening, till I woke up this morning, and find out that I don't like the way he looked like at all.
This boy was almost done yesterday evening, till I woke up this morning, and find out that I don't like the way he looked like at all.
First I unpicked his mouth,
Then I looked on the stupid ears I stitch only yesterday they looked awful; they weren’t "his" it was obvious, so I cut them out immediately.
I can't point where the problem was exactly, it was something I felt and knew.
I can't point where the problem was exactly, it was something I felt and knew.
Maybe one day they would fit another doll.