Moon
Reflection
Moon explores Reflection through inward attention, reflected light, and quiet restraint.
Of all the qualities associated with the Moon, I chose Reflection. The moon doesn't create its own light. It receives light from the sun and reflects it back. I think we do something similar. We take in experiences, ideas, and pieces of the people we encounter along the way. None of it is really ours to begin with. We just catch it and send it back out a little changed.
Reflection also means looking inward. I closed Moon's eyes to shut out the noise of the outside world and turn her attention in.
Quiet, Not Silent
In Phases
I ended up sculpting Moon's face twice. The first version didn't work. Nothing about it said Moon to me. So I set it aside and started again. (I ended up repurposing that first face as Neptune, but more about that later.)
As for the second attempt, almost nothing about it was planned. It happened in…wait for it…phases. When I began, I didn't know I would add craters. When I finished the craters, I had no idea there would be a crown.
The craters are what's left after something else touches you. I wanted that in her face literally — not just the idea of being shaped by what you take in, but the mark it leaves. The reason for adding the crown was simpler: I wanted Moon to look unmistakably lunar, and a moonbeam crown seemed perfect for that.
I kept Moon's palette deliberately narrow and mostly white. To me, quiet and silence aren't always the same thing. Silence suggests an absence of activity; quiet can contain a great deal of it. With craters, bits of glass, mirror, crystals, and a crown, Moon actually has a lot going on. It's the restrained palette that keeps all that activity from becoming loud.
What I Already Had
Some of Moon's most important material choices came from using what I already had on hand. The epoxy clay I used for the craters and moonbeams was already white, so there was no need to paint it. I'd planned to use silver glass, but I didn't have any. So the mirror in my stash raised its hand for consideration — it gave me the color I wanted while also becoming a literal expression of Reflection.
I didn't need to run out and buy new glass. I didn't need to paint everything white. Everything I needed was already there. Which is, I'll admit, a little on the nose for a piece about looking inward instead of outward — but I didn't design it that way. I just noticed it after the fact and decided to let the joke stand.
I like that Moon ended up teaching me the thing she's about, almost by accident. That feels right for her.