How It's Done: Rainy Day Sunrise Part 4

This is Rainy Day Sunrise Part 4. If you missed Parts 1, 2 or 3, you can grab Part 1 here, Part 2 here and Part 3 here.

Okay, so here's the great slab of soap. Since unmolding, it has sat on the prep shelf for a further 24 hours. This time varies from soapmaker to soapmaker, but I find that a further 24 hours gives me a drier product to work with. In the photo, you can clearly see the end result of the bamboo skewer. I'm pondering. Maybe when I make this batch the next time, I might swap the finery of the skewer for the handle of wooden spoon. I think I'd have preferred a good blaze of white rather than the delicate streaking the soap has now revealed.

Time to break out another one of my complicated tools... otherwise known as a guitar wire. I'm slicing the slab of soap into logs. The mold I'm using at the moment yields four from each batch, which is three twangs of the guitar wire. I'll be showing you how to rig this nifty little tool up for yourself in an upcoming post. For slicing logs, it's a breeze!

The beautiful moment of the long awaited cut. It's the first peek inside, and I'm well pleased. You can see that the orange main body has given way to a golden yellow. It will morph a little more yet. I'm absolutely thrilled with the white I layered on top. Looking at it, I think I was right ditching the orange line. This bar is Rainy Day Sunrise and the rain flows freely from the skies above. For me, an orange line would have created a hardness when I really wanted to portray free flowing without restraint.

The row of freshly cut logs. The mold I'm using at the moment yields four from each batch. I really do like the white line sitting underneath the ripples that I painted on top. It is rather like water with its gentle wave of movement.

With each log standing upright on the workbench, I like to shave the corners off the long sides of the top. This is called "bevelling". Bevelling is used in many different ways by soapmakers. Some will shave their bars along four sides. Some will shave their bars along every edge they can see. For my Art House Soaps, I just like to create a little roof on top of them. Angled like a wooden picture frame, it's the finishing touch for the canvas I've been working on.

Now comes the feeling of the adrenaline rush that you get when riding the steep hill of a rollercoaster. I'm just getting to the top of it and as I push the blade down to make the first slice of soap, I'm finally gonna get to see what it really looks like inside. I know the barbecue skewer worked and I also know that the lines were fine ones, but has every line I drew worked? Did the skewer go far enough down every time I used it? Fingers crossed as the roller coaster peaks the crest and heads for the descent.

Oh yes, full tummy turnover! The canvas is hung on the wall. It looks good close up, and with a few steps back I'm happy with what I've painted. It's an Art House Soap. It's Rainy Day Sunrise and I've portrayed it wonderfully. And you know what? I don't think I'm going to be using the broad brush of a wooden handled spoon next time. I think the finery from the bamboo skewer has given me the nice flowing fall of rain. What does the artist in you say?