Busts that get busted (or should have been)

My bust, as hastily thrown together as I could get away with looks like a cross between Trudeau and Plato with Bob Marley Rastafarian dreadlocks on a rather saggy pedestal. My husband likes it. Did another one twenty years ago that I remember struggling through and finally finished, only to have her neck break in the kiln, and my instructor glued it together with epoxy that dripped everywhere. Then someone saw it, and claimed it was a beautiful piece of modeling (which made me proud), but all I could see was the gobs o’ glue. It was suggested it go in an exhibition, and all I remember was it looked so stupid with that black velvet ribbon covering up the gobs o' glue.

Oh well, I can always make another, I remember thinking.

Now I’ve got a philosopher/prime minister who sports very nicely repaired dreadlocks, but so what? I don't like it. He does make the bookcase look intellectual though. Might even be more effective if there wasn’t a pile of dog-chewed socks at the bottom.

And my lovely lady? She was buried glue deep in the garden peeking through some day lilies and a fuzzy green plant; and looked absolutely gorgeous when you discovered her. After 10 years, the moss and soil rather broke down the clay, so I brought her in - but she’s in a box somewhere because she has no neck.