My father starts the detail work at her feet, and works his way up. Me, I'd probably start with the face and work down. This is, in a nutshell, the difference between my father and me. I begin a project full of hope and optimism, and end it rushing, wanting to move on to whatever is next. His enthusiasm for creating builds as he works. If I made a mother feet-first, they would have perfectly formed toes, ankles, and legs, but by the time I got to the face, I'd cut corners. Mother would come to life with the soft, featureless face of a mannequin. My father's feet may be a serviceable approximation, but his face is lovely and accurate—even when it scatters in pieces across a room.