FINAL: Piterson Completes a Half-Skeleton

Piterson began to feel the effects of senioritis as winter gave way to spring.  He was visiting his skeleton less frequently, so he saw his sculpting progress begin to slow.  He was cognizant of this change, too, for he spoke of it during one of his many check-ins with the IP faculty.  "OK," the team responded.  "What do you feel like you still need to accomplish while here? How do you want to leave?"

This moment of guided self-reflection proved the necessary component to spur Piterson.  Immediately following this conversation, he renegotiated his IP work schedule in order to grant himself time to visit his skeleton every day.  Soon we saw very little of him at all, for he began to spend several hours of the morning as well as the entire afternoon in "The Makers' Space."

Piterson made tremendous strides with his newfound discipline.  At one point during the spring, he approached the IP team because he was having difficulties with the smoothness of a portion of the pelvis (although he did not know the name of the bone, he was referring to the lilac fossa).  We suggested posterboard material, but Piterson configured an inventive (and more aesthetic) workaround using a variety of materials.  He bent supple twigs gradually in order to form a curved frame; using this piece as an outline, he then mapped and cut plywood to form the lilac fossa.  He glued this to the outline and repeated the process for the second half of the pelvis.

Throughout his process, Piterson launched intensive research with a heightened sense of precision. He evinced exemplary visual acuity and engineering by translating a 2D image into a 3D piece.  Perhaps he best applied these skills while wrestling with the textures of the spine.  Using various computer programs to project and rotate images on a large flatscreen TV, he noticed that the posterior view revealed two different shapes.  Although he did not know the names "cervical vertebrae" and "thoracic vertebrae," he concluded that the top bones (the former) were flatter and more rectangular while the bottom bones (the latter) were shaped almost like "W's" or teeth.  The top bones, too, appeared darker for their close approximity to one another.  Piterson therefore went about creating these two bones, using a dull cardboard for the top bones and a lighter plywood for the bottom.  He produced and connected his spine to the pelvis, creating a piece that startled the IP team for its beauty.


Piterson strove to complete the skeleton before he left.  The year ran out before he could target the skull, however, so he was only able to complete half of the skeleton.  True, he did not finish the project that he set for himself.  However, that fact does not, of course, invalidate the project that he did create or the process in which he engaged.  As the IP faculty and students cleaned up "The Makers' Space" at year-end, we happened to put together the parts of Piterson's skeleton in order to approximate its shape.  The finished piece was even more awe-inspiring than we had anticipated.  In that moment, as this humanoid figure taller than 6 feet was erected before us, faculty and students alike grasped Piterson's true progress.  These products transcended the definition of the "models" as which they were originally conceived; they now constituted true works of art. No less importantly, although Piterson did not know the names of every bone he handled, he nevertheless came to understand them - their shape, their relationship to the bones around them - for having fashioned them himself.

Piterson created a multi-faceted sculpture, but he also laid the groundwork for an anatomical knowledge that he will inevitably call upon as he pursues personal training in the future.  We are proud of his progress and maturation this year, and we invite you to celebrate his work with us by posting in the comments section below.

Description of images:  All photos taken by the IP faculty.