Tips are in order of arrival

1. Here is my philosophy: You will never be a good artist until you get past
expectations of being a great one. Until then you can never be more than a
bad one. Because a bad one does no art at all!

But there is more to it than that. Only by relaxing your demands of yourself
will your hands relax and allow you to do good work. There is something
about trust to this. When you look at the ocean, it always looks perfect.
After all nature is perfection, right? No, actually sometimes nature is not
perfect. What makes it so is our trust in it. That it won't disappoint - and
so it doesn't - in fact, it astounds us each day with it's natural, relaxed
beauty. --Laurel

2. Your first Hitty should not be your ultimate best Hitty or what incentive
would there be to carve more? We're all carving towards our personal best
and none of us, no matter how jaw dropping good we are, likely feel we've
found it. We would lose motivation and move on to another challenge if we
ever got that feeling.

Like pancakes and children, the first one is for practice and you're
supposed to toss it out (I like to tell my big sister that, especially
whenever we tear our hair out over her own eldest, or mine). --Laurel

3. Less is more: This is the most important lesson in the world for artists,
IMO. It was definitely the secret behind my success when I was in fashion.
It's very difficult to learn that. I think it is the 'fixing' gene in us
that makes us keep going beyond the point of just right. Don't. Stop early,
and you can always go back later if some inspiration hits. This is akin to
the leave them wanting more rule.

I was thinking about the Hitty I am carving for the birthday swap when I saw
one that was adorable and full of expression and yet has very little in the
way of carved features. Lesson learned (probably too late for this doll,
who's face is beginning to peek out of the wood though). You really don't
have to put that knife to the wood that many times - just put it in the
right place a few times and Hitty comes to life. If the place you put the
knife doesn't happen to be the right place after all, you can do it again,
at small cost. But you have to trust yourself and accept Hitty as SHE is,
and not try to make her the picture in your mind. I often want to say that
to overly authoritarian parents too! Like Hittys, babies are not an
extension of us, but their own selves.

Flex cut brand knives are very very nice indeed - I'm loving my new little
pelican one. It is nice for a beginner because you can take off such a
miniscule amount of wood that you don't quake with each cut.

I've been carving for a whole - what is it, six months? And I can't begin to
tell you what an expert I am now ;-D. But seriously - this is all stuff that
applies to anything artistic.--Laurel

4. Can't really style myself as a carver, but I've just completed my first Hitty, begun in, gulp, 2003.... Her body was actually carved and painted, limbs in, pardon the pun, "limbo". She is a motley collection of basswood, pine and poplar; a thumb gone missing and glued back on. Poor thing, she always looked so sad and mournful. (Well, who wouldn't?) I picked her up this week and re-carved her body, did a few alterations on her face, finished her arms and legs and re-painted. So, budding carvers, Take Heart"!

Things I learned: Your blanks are really important - use a blank you are comfortable with made from a wood you are comfy with. Diligently search for a knife that suits you. Check your pegging as you go. This little Hitty will never be able to place her hands on her hips. Keep removing wood with, as Julie pointed out, shallow cuts. You will need to take off more than you think, but folks, once it's gone, it's gone. So, ladies, "Take Heed".

Her name is Hitty D'Manda - that is, Hitty Query, because of that one eyebrow that refused to behave. I think she will be eternally skeptical of my devotion.
Still, she has earned it.--Jane E.