"never trust a man who wears a belt and suspenders at the same time"

Today we learned how to properly airbrush a fish to restore its natural coloring for posterity's sake.  It's really a shame that the colors fade in the scales, because no matter how talented the artist-nothing quite compares to nature.  I'm already scheming Trout skin wallets and rabbit mermaids in my not too distant future...



Here is the Trout, with color foundation added.  To show you the rest would give too much away, so there.







The demo took a big chunk of the morning and in the afternoon we added finishing touches on our pheasants, which we were then allowed to take home with us.  I will take professional shots shortly and post them here, as well as on my website.  I am still trying to come up with a name for my business once I get home and set up shop.  Something that appeals to a mass audience but lets my whimsical and humorous side leak through just a tad...



We got out of class a little early so I decided to work on my extracurricular activity-skinning a deer all by myself.



Here she is, laid out in her entirety.  A donation to me from a professional,  although she exhibits no real external wounds (aside from some blood around the mouth and ears), I soon discovered the internal was a completely new can of worms.







There was significant bruising and bleeding around the ribs and guts, the one leg bone was completely shattered from the second joint to the shoulder, and the skull was crushed as well.  Poor thing.  I know this picture is unsettling and graphic, but I also admire the pretty colors leaking out around the skin and flesh.







I wanted to use the legs on their own for either a wall-mounted thermometer or even a hat, who knows.  I tried sawing them off but the blade wouldn't cut through the bone.  Thankfully there were some bolt cutters in the shed next door and they snapped right through like  buttah. I couldn't help but cringe with each crackling cut as I imagined my own limbs being cut off in such a fashion.  This empathy I feel towards my specimen seems to be a constant thread running through my mind these days.  I feel sorry and thankful at once for these creatures, who have died by gun, gas or vehicle and wound up in my hands.  I am incessantly imagining every cut, tear and twist as though it were my own body lying there on the table.  I think of how surgeons open us up and swap parts on the regular, as though we as humans are nothing more than living rag dolls.



Does this make me sick?  I prefer to call it thoughtful.







Skinning out the head took a while; the hide didn't seem to want to stretch over the neck base of the skull so I had to make an extra cut and finesse it a bit.  Here are a couple shots of the nose and lips, pre-splitting.







I went inside to clean out the legs and was promptly informed  by Sarah that I absolutely STUNK.  So I showered, and came down to a lovely chicken dinner and martinis.  Sarah also built her first fire, which is somewhat of a triumph considering the trauma she's been recovering form since a fire claimed her home almost ten years ago.







After dinner we each had another cocktail and watched "Bringing down the House" to which I couldn't decide to be offended (more for the plot/script/fight scenes than the racial content) or amused.  We followed with some dessert cocktails and some Dr. Fart:



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