My treefrog

'My treefrog'. Sounds like a 4th grade essay title.
I'm getting to know my little critter, which is a golden treefrog from Asia.
I'm pretty excited about sculpting these (one's nearly done), since I've been nuts about frogs since I can remember.
All my essays were about frogs at school.
A tree frog was the first thing I made in pottery class (we were all supposed to make a mouse).

Funny that now I've started seriously sculpting I made mice ahead of tree frogs. I must have been trying to make amends.

My current frog's a her, since at 3" it's too big to be a boy, but I think of it as a 'he' for some reason.

Probably has something to do with how it eats.
Hardly ladylike.

Picture a demur, sophisticated lady sitting quietly in a restaurant. She suddenly notices a delicious plate of food being set down in front of someone, several tables away.

Now she's focused.
Her eyes glaze over, as if possessed. The conversation is merely white noise now, and with her eyes locked firmly on her target she slowly shifts position in her seat.
With slow, deliberate movements her legs are drawn up, she removes her shoes and grips the front edge of the seat with her toes.
Ever so slowly, her butt begins to rise...

BAM!

In one explosive move she's propelled like a rocket, slamming through the plate of food at top speed, only to clang to a stop on her back against a piano in the corner which booms a discordant grunt upon impact.

She wipes the dust off the limp asparagus tips hanging from her mouth.
She gulps down her enormous mouthful.
Her head turns quickly, eyes again laser locked back across the room.
Ever so slowly, her butt begins to rise.

A nervous waiter twitches with a tray full of food...


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