There is a point when the character has presented itself and no matter the ideas I had for the piece when I started sculpting the wool I must resign myself to the process or risk killing it by trying to change it.
Sometimes I wish things could have been different, no matter how hard I try I just end up with a mess if I force my hand. I keep learning to allow the process its space. To let it be what it turns out to be. Every once in a while a face peeks through the wool just as I saw it in my head and I know that it's gonna break my heart when it goes to a new home.
To love and let go. To miss something so special knowing that you had your time with it is part of the work. Art is life.
May the sun shine on your choices,