See Part 1 and Part 2 of this series and then read on to see the body structure of my beautiful, beautiful monster. Although I've pretty much given up on using this as a project in my library, I really do think it would be a good summer long program in a different library- one with a little more staff flexibility, volunteer involvement or programming space to get a little messy.
After the head was all clothed up and drying, I turned my attention to the body. Again, this is out of order with Reeder's instructions. He has you fitting the head onto the body first and then filling out the arms and legs to fit around that. But I didn't want to wait that long! So with my trusty serrated knife (that I totally sliced myself open with last week. BE CAREFUL) and some Miranda Lambert on the stereo, I began to cut holes in Hank's body.
I cut off the head hole first so that I could pull out some of the excess newspaper to make room for the other appendages.
I'd already made the legs by taking two of my papermached sticks and joining them with a rolled newspaper ball of a knee joint and a lot of masking tape. I used a small piece of wire to connect the feet with the legs, twisted them into place and secured them with even more masking tape.
To attach the legs (and later the arms) I cut two holes, just slightly smaller than the actual legs and wrestled them into place. By making the hole smaller, I was ensuring a tighter fit. When they looked good I went back to my trusty masking tape and shored them up.
This wasn't how I pictured Hank's body looking. I wanted a glum, little, potbellied monster with his head in his hands, absentmindedly chewing on his finger. I was going to paint him in dark blues and grays and have him sit on a shelf in my home where I could tell him all about the things that were bothering me and he'd listen and not judge my super melodramatic tendencies.
But I love this body. I love how the hands worked out and how I'll be able to hang necklaces from his fingers if I so choose. I love his legs all splayed out and so disproportionate to his body. I think I know how his head will fit on and maybe, just maybe, I'll have him eating an old book (discarded from the library, of course!) since he won't have his fingers to chew on.