Of course all those efforts would amount to nothing if the head looked like nothing. It was done in 4 different steps. The first day I just rolled a thin magic Sculp knob with a strong flat base so that I could manipulate it later without any trouble. Then the following day I made the outlines of the skull including the eyes sockets. The third day was the real one as I carved out yet more eyes socket, and especially I managed to add just the right amount of MS so that the nose and mouth would be great looking. Finally I added ears and hairs out of Magic Sculp and here I was done with the head.

I finally attached the head to the rest of the body with some wire and here I was done, even though I had quite a bit of sanding and trimming left for days to come until I was totally satisfied with the result

I first tried to paint the kid in acrylics, but I ended painting it like I would do with the hull of  my boats, and even though the result was not really convincing, I still presented it to the Lugdunum fair like this. Anyway, one week after clutching my medal, I was back again at it, painting it in oils this time, in a much more precise fashion, and this new version is the one you can see now on the final pictures.
Then some detail that just might appear to be slightly ridiculous, but which is in fact extremely important is the way the boy is fixed on the boat. First I had inserted a small wire in one of his foot and pierced a small hole in the hull where he stands now -no way would I have managed to actually MOVE the diorama without breaking the little guy from his edge if I would just have glue him. Last but not least, when the boy was actually completely painted and fixed at its current position, I sculpted a tiny bit underneath the foot, so that both feet would really look like they are imprinted on the edge instead of just flat feet glued on an edge. When this was done, then I really had my diorama I could be reasonably proud of.

The fair:  a vast sea of grey

So here I went to the fair with my small dio under the arm. The fun began with the judges scratching their heads trying to find the right category to sort it. I finally made it to "historical -hopes"; no "confirmed" for me then awright.  I went to see the other stuff presented and left with that same feeling like a cross between sadness and slight anger without really knowing how to interpret it. Then the following day I met a particularly articulate modeler, the kind of guys who's out every week-end when there's the tail of a modeling fair at 500kms round his home.  At one point he showed me a very finely sculpted Ork  and looking at this melancholic wrinkled face, I saw the light -or more precisely I couldn't see anything anymore.

I was just in the middle of some sort of grey fog.

No matter how much light you would put on all those figs THEY WOULD ALL LOOK LIKE THEY ARE PAINTED THE SAME WAY, just like everybody followed the same "thou shallt and thou shallt not" gospel, and indeed most of the figs seemed to have been painted with some grey undercoat that shone through everything, be it Napoleonian soldier or Ork. The same heavy eyelids and too much shadows on the faces. I told that to my new friend in a very heated manner and he laughed kindly. He said "I see what you mean and that's the way it is! Want it or not, Diego Ruina wins every show he enters in, then -as he wins-  all the other guys paint like Diego Ruina, hence that uniformity you can see in that show. But do you believe it isn't the same thing with Panzers dioramas? Everybody tries to emulate Mig, every panzer diorama looks like its neighbor all the same. And then it's even worse with panzers as almost nobody knows how to use pigments properly".

So that's a lost game alright, but then those little robot painters  forget the main thing:  nothing shines from their stuff, they were all doing the same mistakes: nicely painted shadows on trousers and shirt but absolutely no shadows on the stones  or architectural details they were standing near to,  pathetic looking bits of ferns done out of hastily cut broom hair or -even worse- photoetch near the handsome figure, figs scattered over too much place in a scenette so that everybody can admire each beautifully painted miniature, but scenes that simply don't click as  a whole etc  etc.

To this little game the so called Italian masters were no better than their French colleagues. Sure their hands are steady but their artistic talent is almost inexistent.  Sure my poor fig was certainly weakly painted but God how it shone through that sea of grey!
So I went back home the heart very light indeed, my knowing that I was right, and they were wrong, that only a few years of practice and a good optivisor were between me and what I think I am worth of.

Back home, after having spend another week to perfect that small diorama, I was pretty happy to see that in the end "jaws" provides good vibrations as never did one of my dioramas got as many appraisal from people outside the modeling world. People seem to think it's a relaxed and positive work while in reality it is not. Finally I made my own interpretations for Jaws, that work echoes my own fears about raising a kid in our world: uncertainty front and behind, nothing above and danger below.

I finally wish to thank everybody from Kitmaker and also Les Colleurs who proved me that some people in the French modeling world were worth shaking their hands to, and basically everyone who watched and commented throughout that experience.