Back in the late 1970s when I was in art college at Detroit's Center for Creative Studies, I took several life sculpture classes. There's no better way to get a true sense of the spacial dimensionality of the human figure than to sculpt it in clay. This small torso is one of the few remembrances I've kept of that era. She now sits at the side window of my front room upstairs, unseeing and unseen...except by me. My sculptor teacher Jay Holland lives in her curves. He was a hard man to please, artistically and relationally, but, my goodness, could that man sculpt! May he rest in peace.