We had Aracona Chickens for about 8-10 yrs. They were a Riot, really crafty birds.
Especially the roosters. The roosters really have to know how to strut their stuff. They gotta kick ass every once in a while. They were remarkably colorful, sort of a bird from another planet. And They were real smart asses, they took over every scene. They dominated what they wanted to. They didn't dominate me. I was impressive
once I got the chicken catcher hook out. This is what makes you a farmboy. You immediately react to catch and control. You're on your way to the next job as soon as you get this one done.
These roosters are talking- they are giving a direct order to do- something.
I had a great time making these wonderful little lives in clay. They were speaking as soon as I made them. I made these in all sizes. Most of them are gone now, these were found as the last of the last. I also did printmaking drawings of roosters on real nice paper, Trippy.
If ever I would get back into clay I would take on the roosters again. Make total chicken pens
with the red fox and the skunk in back. Poor chickens take such a rough existence on a real farm-they are subject to everything in the world. I don't know how many skunks I've shot going out back with a bird in mouth. Bang- you are gone bud. Give me back my bird-so I can have it in the frying pan tonight.
The porcelain I used all came from Nan and Jim McKinnell from their scraps in bags pile. Every mixture of porcelain was melted down with water to make what I pugmilled back to a texture a lot like Dairy Queen soft ice cream. Ohhh, it was a smooth as toothpaste-going down on my wheel head to spin your life to town. Honey let's gitty up and go.....making clay.
