She knows she must let go of all the "faces" she wore to protect herself. As much as she tries to hold on to them, she knows she must let them go. So exhausting keeping up the false fronts.
She can't do it anymore. The worst thing is not knowing how she will manage without them. They are like old friends. They kept her from feeling her feelings.
But, it's time; she has sat on her hands for too long, letting this go on. She can't keep up any longer. She surrenders her control, lets go and mourns their loss. Anything has to be better than living a lie.
Certainly not a pretty little piece. Guess it's not meant to be. It's only 3-1/2" tall, sculpted from polymer, baked and then painted it with china paint, which hardens to a glaze when baked. Then I sanded most of it off to give it the battered effect.
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