listening.
‘So what did this Bogus look like?’ the sculptor asked. ‘I can’t do a sculpture if I don’t know what she looked like.’
‘We only have this blurry old photo,’ Mrs Trifle said, showing him the picture. ‘We assume she was part dingo but you can’t see her well enough to know. It doesn’t really matter. Just make a good sculpture of a normal dog and that will be fine.’
‘I’ve never sculpted a dog before,’ the sculptor said getting a huge hunk of wax out of a bag. ‘I’ll need a model. Otherwise she might come out looking like a cat or a cow or something.’
‘I think we have just what you need,’ Mrs Trifle said pointing to Selby. ‘I brought him along today just in case you needed him. Of course I wouldn’t expect you to make your sculpure look
exactly
like Selby.’
‘Well, he’s a
boy
dog, for starters,’ the sculptor said. ‘Bogus was a … a
girl
dog.’
‘Can’t you just leave the boy bits off?’
‘If that’s what you want, sure. You’re the mayor of this town so you’re the boss.’
‘Thank you,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘I hoped you’d see it that way.’
‘Isn’t it great that Bogusville is finally going to have a statue of Bogus!’ Selby thought. ‘And she’s going to have
my
body — only with the boy bits missing, of course.’
‘Another thing,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘Please don’t make the statue look weird.’
‘Weird? What do you mean, weird?’ Sigfried asked. ‘My statues never look weird.’
‘Well, yes, but do you remember that statue of the scientist you did? You made his head bigger than the rest of his body.’
‘Of course, I remember. That’s one of my finest works of art! I gave him a big head to show that he was a great thinker. That’s what scientists are all about.’
‘Well, we don’t want anything like that,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘I believe you also sculpted a racehorse with twenty legs.’
‘Rubbish!’ the sculptor said. ‘It was only sixteen legs. That was to show that the horse was running. That’s what racehorses are all about.’
‘Well we don’t want a sculpture of Bogus with sixteen legs.’
‘But sculptures are supposed to make people think,’ said Sigfried.
‘I’m afraid the people of Bogusville don’t like to think very much,’ Mrs Trifle said.
‘You don’t understand. I am an artist. I want my sculptures to
say
something to the people who look at them. I want them to look at my dog sculpture and think: “Now I know something about a dog that I never knew before”.’
‘You mean they’ll learn something? Like what?’
‘I don’t know yet but I’ll think of something.’
‘What we want is a statue of a dog that looks like a dog so that when we look at it we think: “Hey, there’s a dog!”.’
‘But that’s so boring,’ the sculptor protested.
‘We can always hire someone else to do the sculpture,’ Mrs Trifle reminded him.
‘All right,’ the sculptor sighed, ‘I’ll do what you say. If you pay, I’ll play. Are you sure this dog can stand still while I do the sculpture?’
‘Of course he can, won’t you, Selby? He’s very good at standing still. Come to think of it, standing still and lying still are the things he does best,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘So how do you make your sculptures?’
‘Simple: first I make a model out of wax. Then I cover it all with some glurpy stuff that gets really hard. This is sent off to a foundry where they pour in hot metal and the wax melts and comes out. Then they chip off the outside part and there’s the sculpture.’
‘That sounds very complicated,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘I’ll leave you to it. If you need me, I’ll be next door in my office.’
After Mrs Trifle had left, Selby sat perfectly still watching Sigfried Slapdash shape the lump of wax with his hands.
‘This guy’s good!’ Selby thought. ‘He’s got the legs and the tail exactly right. The real test will be the face — my face.’
Selby sat so still that he was
‘So what did this Bogus look like?’ the sculptor asked. ‘I can’t do a sculpture if I don’t know what she looked like.’
‘We only have this blurry old photo,’ Mrs Trifle said, showing him the picture. ‘We assume she was part dingo but you can’t see her well enough to know. It doesn’t really matter. Just make a good sculpture of a normal dog and that will be fine.’
‘I’ve never sculpted a dog before,’ the sculptor said getting a huge hunk of wax out of a bag. ‘I’ll need a model. Otherwise she might come out looking like a cat or a cow or something.’
‘I think we have just what you need,’ Mrs Trifle said pointing to Selby. ‘I brought him along today just in case you needed him. Of course I wouldn’t expect you to make your sculpure look
exactly
like Selby.’
‘Well, he’s a
boy
dog, for starters,’ the sculptor said. ‘Bogus was a … a
girl
dog.’
‘Can’t you just leave the boy bits off?’
‘If that’s what you want, sure. You’re the mayor of this town so you’re the boss.’
‘Thank you,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘I hoped you’d see it that way.’
‘Isn’t it great that Bogusville is finally going to have a statue of Bogus!’ Selby thought. ‘And she’s going to have
my
body — only with the boy bits missing, of course.’
‘Another thing,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘Please don’t make the statue look weird.’
‘Weird? What do you mean, weird?’ Sigfried asked. ‘My statues never look weird.’
‘Well, yes, but do you remember that statue of the scientist you did? You made his head bigger than the rest of his body.’
‘Of course, I remember. That’s one of my finest works of art! I gave him a big head to show that he was a great thinker. That’s what scientists are all about.’
‘Well, we don’t want anything like that,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘I believe you also sculpted a racehorse with twenty legs.’
‘Rubbish!’ the sculptor said. ‘It was only sixteen legs. That was to show that the horse was running. That’s what racehorses are all about.’
‘Well we don’t want a sculpture of Bogus with sixteen legs.’
‘But sculptures are supposed to make people think,’ said Sigfried.
‘I’m afraid the people of Bogusville don’t like to think very much,’ Mrs Trifle said.
‘You don’t understand. I am an artist. I want my sculptures to
say
something to the people who look at them. I want them to look at my dog sculpture and think: “Now I know something about a dog that I never knew before”.’
‘You mean they’ll learn something? Like what?’
‘I don’t know yet but I’ll think of something.’
‘What we want is a statue of a dog that looks like a dog so that when we look at it we think: “Hey, there’s a dog!”.’
‘But that’s so boring,’ the sculptor protested.
‘We can always hire someone else to do the sculpture,’ Mrs Trifle reminded him.
‘All right,’ the sculptor sighed, ‘I’ll do what you say. If you pay, I’ll play. Are you sure this dog can stand still while I do the sculpture?’
‘Of course he can, won’t you, Selby? He’s very good at standing still. Come to think of it, standing still and lying still are the things he does best,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘So how do you make your sculptures?’
‘Simple: first I make a model out of wax. Then I cover it all with some glurpy stuff that gets really hard. This is sent off to a foundry where they pour in hot metal and the wax melts and comes out. Then they chip off the outside part and there’s the sculpture.’
‘That sounds very complicated,’ Mrs Trifle said. ‘I’ll leave you to it. If you need me, I’ll be next door in my office.’
After Mrs Trifle had left, Selby sat perfectly still watching Sigfried Slapdash shape the lump of wax with his hands.
‘This guy’s good!’ Selby thought. ‘He’s got the legs and the tail exactly right. The real test will be the face — my face.’
Selby sat so still that he was
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