Auction Part Two: More Good, Less Bad

The Sequel, wherein I have an unexpected, surprise first-hand report.

I was pretty lucky the first time, to happen to be online when Jennifer Dodd reached out to me for values opinion, during a live auction of an estate with Monrovia Hagen-Renaker horses. 

I was doubly lucky to be asked a second time, but this time, Jennifer was contacted directly by the auctioneer with "more of those horses you like". I may have come to mind again because 1. I restored a couple of her initial lot, and 2. I happened to be located on the way to the pick up.

She messaged me some photos, and asked for values. I sent her the numbers, with their total, and the next thing I know... "Are you free?"

Well, this must have been meant to be, because I had just sent off a commission for approval ahead of deadline, so I had nothing to do on that until I heard back. I had finished demolding, and all the studio shipping and receiving for the day. Let's go save them!

Yes, the "Let's go save them!" impulse was running pretty strong in both of us. The last thing we wanted to see was any more loss and damage to these old, ceramic artworks. We didn't know what to expect, so we both grabbed boxes and wrapping materials, and tossed them in her car. These horses were in the exact same situation that damaged the others; the circumstance that we were told led to the complete obliteration of a Crusader, large white Honora, and a small rose gray Zara. We didn't want to see that painful story repeat.

Repeat, it could... for you see... the same molds that were reported as smashed to dust, were in this lot.

The only damage in this whole lot.

Before cleaning & restoration. This one has a dark ribbon.

What are the odds that the same lost molds (and in their respective colors) would appear in the next group? The auctioneer confirmed that they came from the same estate. 

Duplicates? The same horses, just held back? I will leave that to the reader to speculate, but luck certainly played some part in this. We're just grateful that the auctioneer directly reached out to collectors, and didn't just put them in some random lot of housewares.

When we arrived, the auction staff had carefully bubble-wrapped each horse, and laid them out in cardboard flats, stashed safely out of the way. We were touched that they were so careful with this group. It was pretty exciting to be the first collectors to handle these ceramics in decades, and realize that we would reunite them with their "stablemates" from the previous auction lot.

When we returned to my studio, we set straight to work cleaning them. The rubbing alcohol and gloves came out. It was a fun evening of chatter of collectors, hearts overflowing with joy and the destiny of the whole thing.

Photo by Jennifer Dodd.

All cleaned up.

Hagen-Renaker Monrovia DW Crusader.

If you recall the past Crusader/Sespe post, you may be noticing something funny about this rescued Crusader. Here is a comparison photo with a typical Crusader.

< Normal Monrovia                   Pale Rescue Monrovia >

This paleness is not an acquired thing, it can't occur with age; this is how she left the factory. Are they found any paler? Her gray shading batch is likewise tinted differently, a brown or flesh, instead of normal gray. Her mold detail is equal, but without dark shading for contrast on the edges, it is hard to see at a distance. Of course, this is exactly the sort of variation I collect, as a potter. It may not appeal to collectors seeking a competitive show horse, because it would appear flat/lacking detail on the judging table. This really was meant to be... she was meant to "find" me.

 We could not have asked for a happier ending! Those lost are safely in one piece, in collector hands. I hope this cheers all the folks who cried with us over the reported losses.


Gratitude to Jennifer Dodd, for the spontaneous sharing!

Muddy Monday: Ceramic Performance Showing

Performance is the only division at a model horse show where the use of scale miniature tack and props are required to enhance the entry, and tell a story. Many model horse people never consider showing their fragile horses in this complicated manner, but it is a resurging trend. Perhaps tackmaker innovations (breakaway girths, wax-on splint boots, etc.), more ceramics issued with the option of a base, and the growing comfort level fostered by all-ceramics shows have contributed to this shift?

Still, the first reaction:

"We search antique fairs, flea markets, eBay, and estate sales for these vintage treasures. We keep them safe, clean, restored, and carefully stored. We often forego shipping to hand-carry them to their new homes. They are often highly valuable and some are irreplaceable. Put miniature leather tack on them, stand them up in scenes, and have them judged at a show? Are you mad?"

Not crazy, but quite serious, yes. Showing ceramics in performance, where tack and props are used to create a real life vignette, has a long history in the model horse hobby. It can be done via "photo showing", where the entries are submitted as carefully staged photos, digitally or hard copies through the mail, or at a "live show". 

Clinky Classic is a live show, for ceramic horses only, where all the Performance entries are set up on a time limit, and judged "live", in person. This is our second show offering this division, and the tradition has begun for these glaze colors on each year's unique trophy designs.

Clinky Classic Performance division awards, for November 1st-2nd, 2014. 

Many people view Performance showers as a breed of their own, much as ceramics collectors and exhibitors are viewed. They do have a lot in common, so it was natural for all-ceramic shows to offer Performance.

The following are some more recent examples of both photo and live show Performance entries.

Exhibitor Kim Jacobs creatively showed her Arabians in a variety of African, Asian (India being part of Asia), and Middle Eastern riding cultures:

Photo courtesy Kim Jacobs.

Photo courtesy Kim Jacobs.

Photo courtesy Kim Jacobs.

Photo courtesy Kim Jacobs.

Photo courtesy Kim Jacobs.

Photo courtesy Kim Jacobs.

2012 Clinky Classic Performance Champion.

Owned by Sue Stewart.

Native American Costume

Owned by Sue Stewart.

Saddleseat
Photo courtesy Kim Jacobs.

Harness

Photo courtesy Kim Jacobs.

"Sure, these are expensive ceramics to replace, but they can be replaced. What about performance showing unique tests, or custom glazes? Is that still even done?"

Yes, and very well, I might add!

A custom glaze Performance entry.

Photo courtesy Marilyn Jensen.

A custom glaze English Performance entry awaits the ring.

Photo by author.

Western Pleasure with a unique custom glaze.

Photo by author.

This custom glaze by Maureen Love, shown as "O'Carolyn's Tribute" in the late 1980's-early '90's by Joan Berkwitz, was a Performance model! Several such vintage custom glazes, and factory finished ceramics, are known to have been strong Performance competitors. There is a rich tradition in the model horse hobby of competing unusual models under tack. The only limitations are your courage in showing them, and your creativity in presenting them!

Good luck with your future investigations into Performance showing your ceramics. There is no limit to the creativity or historical era, as long as it can be a recreation of a real-life horse use. Is your model performing tricks at Liberty on a movie set? Is your horse part of a reenanctment? If you can find real life reference, even ancient art, add it to your set up as documentation. 

If you have questions about attending or Performance at Clinky Classic, just drop me a message. Entries close soon (October 1st, 2014) for the next show.



Thank you to all the intrepid ceramics exhibitors who shared their images for this post!

In With The Bad, Out With The Good

The day started with my usual Clinky Classic show prep at this time of year, a whole mess of slipcasting. In between topping off the levels of liquid clay in the molds, I pick up disconnected areas of my messy studio. I've made it a goal to clear a section each day, until it's totally clean except for a pre-show dusting. While I was cleaning, I took a hard look at all the off-topic things in the cabinets of my studio. This is the clutter I can't throw away because it is composed of meaningful artworks, even if they are not the focus of what I collect, anymore.There are entire sub-collections that I haven't added to in a decade or more, but that would make my fellow collectors so happy. Also, if I am going to move into the family farm house soon, why pack, move, and unpack items I scarcely look at, when I can pack and rehome items, and make room? As the molds drained the excess slip, I started dusting these items, taking sales photos, and advertising them online.

Sometimes, you can look at a cabinet and know immediately when it is time for the contents to find new homes. It's not always a drastic downsizing, maybe a little shift, or a realization that a fellow collector could enjoy it now as I have, in the past. As undying fired earth, it is part of a continuum that extends before and after me; as a mortal curator, I feel better when I go with that flow of "where things need to go". Not in the sense of putting things away, of course. Look how long it's taking me to clean this studio!

Uploading photos and writing ads necessitates being in the office, on my computer. I hate everything about that: the chair, computers in general, lighting, and the smell of the air. I am not an office person. Still, to get things done, I sit here and get through it as fast as I can. I usually compose this blog with pen and paper, then input it all on the computer as fast as possible. The office is not my native environment.

Suddenly, around 3pm, a series of Facebook private messages came zinging through, as I worked. All of them were confusing, jumbled multi-horse photos with no text. Just broken vintage HRs and Japanese imports, and their parts, randomly placed in flats. 

Photos courtesy Jennifer Dodd

The messages were without text because there are no words.

I just typed back, "goodness bless their broken selves
                             Did you save them all?
                             I'd even look under that tapestry for legs"

What collector is prepared to see that? I couldn't tell much from the images, just that some were damaged Monrovia era Hagen-Renakers. Since I do restorations for hire, I assumed it was a purchase that the owner wanted restored. 

But, they were not yet purchased!

The sender, Jennifer Dodd, is a china collector friend who stumbled upon this estate auction's ad, and had to investigate. This is what the auctioneers' ad showed to prospective bidders:

Ceramic horses that survived nearly 60 years were freshly broken after this photo was taken.

Jennifer wrote: 

                         "They destroyed and threw away at least three.                           Don't even have trash anymore. Crusader, Honora, small Zara                          Said they broke to dust. I want to cry"

Yeah, me, too.

Auction companies are notorious for manhandling breakable items. To bear witness to this via photographs, let alone in person, can make one physically ill. There is no respect, it's just a job to the auction staff. 

As you can imagine, Jennifer is now feeling queasy, upon seeing the reality after the auctioneers split them into lots. She messaged me in blind hope that I would happen to be online and see the message, and help her guess values for bidding. 

It was sheer luck that I was doing sales ads at that moment, and my FB was signed in.

I wrote: 

                      "Save who you can. Don't worry about what you can't help.

              it's the rescue mantra"

Then a crazy thing happened. Jen asked me if I wanted to bid on anything. 

Well, it's no secret by now that I like mold detail and that I only collect certain molds. This keeps me focused and methodical about acquisitions. Something about building the congas (rows of the same sculpture in different colors) is very fun to me. There's a puzzle, a challenge, and it's not a checklist of numbers. When you are a collector of variants and factory goofs and customs, there are no checklists. You never know what will compose your conga!

I told her which molds I was after in the photos, but that I did not want to step on her own purchases. After all, she was sharing this with me, and doing the work! She even sent me closeup photos of the lots:

 When I saw that photo, I replied, "The Abdullah has throat wrinkles, that's nice." She had said his detail was moderate. His throat made me wonder if he was better, beneath all the dirt.

When they are so dirty and broken, it's hard to put values on them. Some horses will be fine after cleaning, but it's a gamble with crackled glaze on white horses. Nicotine, mildew, oils, and unidentified filth can be pressed or washed down into the crackle, staining the bisque body beneath. If the previous owner "bathed" their ceramics at any time, there may be deep stains that won't be evident until the outer dirt is removed.

Roan Lady happens to be one of the molds I conga. Maybe I should say, "a mold I aim to conga". It's been a slow build, and I've had many a missed connection. My husband even tried to secretly buy one like this at BreyerFest one year, as a surprise Christmas present, but a sharp collector beat him to it. The years haven't deterred me, I remain a fan. I even sculpted her real-life mate and made him in ceramic. This sad little white Monrovia Roan Lady was breaking my heart, with her apparent gray mildew and mysterious yellow debris. Her broken leg didn't worry me, but her potential stains did. I told Jennifer how much I was in for, and hoped for the best. The last I heard was a little after 4pm, when she was waiting on that lot. She would let me know if she won that lot, and would drop it off at my studio, after the auction.

Hours crept by, with no message, text, nor phone call. I have been to auctions. I know how it feels when I lose the lots I wanted: I don't particularly feel chatty. I kept working, demolding wet clay horses, and assumed that she had a bad auction day and went home. I made my dinner, worked some more, and put it out of mind.

At almost 8:30pm, she called while on the road... her phone had died, so she couldn't reach me sooner, but she had won the lot! Roan Lady was in the backseat. She was on her way to the studio, and wanted to stop and drop RL off.

I was gathering some restoration/cleaning gear when I heard the car pull up. She had arrived so soon, I had to check that it wasn't a trespasser! There may have been a little flying by way of car... maybe someone was a little excited from the auction. And rightly so...

She started unpacking her lots: some vintage Breyers, metal horses, and most of the china lot. Part of it had been shared with her friend that attended the auction that day. Everything present had the same mildew/dust combination, in varying amounts. Someone had collected Horse Shaped Objects for many years, and loved them enough to attempt mending their original damage. On old breaks on Man O' War, they used either wood finisher's crayon or Crayolas to match his color. Someone tried. They cared.

Jennifer urged me to take "before" photos of the main HRs in the lot, as I started showing her the alcohol cleaning process. On the right, is how they were after the auctioneers added damage to them. Left, just clean and glued, no putty or paint!

This is one of those "greenish-blue" underglaze variants. 

He also sports a muzzle that looks dipped in black, but it's sprayed.

He is so detailed, he has lip wrinkles! 

All the orange crayon is off, and he has his pride back.

His breaks had the most chips.

Not bad for a rescue!

They turned out to be even more detailed, once they were cleaned and mended. It's nice to find a Monrovia Roan Lady with face veining! The stickers are all pristine, and there is an added bonus:

Roan Lady retains her original retail price sticker! Five whole dollars. I cleaned around it, because that's cool history.

We sat cleaning and mending horses until almost one o'clock in the morning. There's nothing quite like the sense of purpose when rescuing old pottery art. Jennifer learned the cleaning process, from alcohol to glue removal, and assisted with gluing the mends with the accelerant. She did a couple ceramic imports on her own, and they turned out to be adorable treasures! Looks like she's ready to take on the epoxy putty, next time.

The continuum carries forward, and some unknown person's beloved horses are now getting fixed and loved again. Sadness gets turned into a positive. I was happy to also find a loving home for an earlier restored rescue horse that didn't fit in my collection themes. By next week, all my ads will be done and more ceramics will have new, appreciative homes. 


Many thanks to Jennifer Dodd for bringing this all about, and to her intrepid auction buddy Jessica Mashburn for helping her keep it together all afternoon. What an amazing surprise!

Mystery Horses Update Summer 2014

As much as I've dug up over the years, the Mystery Horse mine continues to turn up precious gems.

Giant 24" H-114

Model courtesy Heather Jackson-Lain.

The Giant molds seem to be the rarest survivors. I'm not sure why this is. Perhaps fewer were ordered from the potteries? The littler guys were probably much cheaper at wholesale. Maybe retailers ordered fewer of the big guys because the little guys were easier to display and sell? My gut tells me that the Giants were so big that moving them from household to household was cumbersome. Shipping them is a pain, so we seldom see them on eBay for anything besides "pick up only". 

What happens when a Giant breaks? Does it immediately go to the dump as over-sized broken junk? Nope. Somebody felt this Giant was worth saving, despite missing an entire leg. Maybe the Giant's size, in that antiques dealers sometimes associate size with value, is what saves them when they are damaged?

A-9 and H-114 in Black Pearl

Lusters are costly, and it seems the Giants get less than the small models.

Model on right courtesy Heather Jackson-Lain.

H-114 

Calif USA

Giant H-114 models demonstrating exactly why the mold was retooled with bent legs.

Black Smoke (known to be Lane Ceramics) and Black Pearl (possibly Marcia of California)

Model on right courtesy Heather Jackson-Lain.

Giant H-114 bent legs in Black Pearl

Lane or Marcia? I don't know.

Unknown photo source

The smaller open-bottom P-239 ("leg-out")

One of two P-239 open-bottom Pearls that appear to be OF.

I have a White Pearl photo on file that is owned by Worthpoint, so not shown here.

Photo courtesy Jayne Kubas.

In summary, I have now seen all the 239 Leg Outs including ring-neck (except the first version H-15 of '62), both leg styles of H-114, and A-9 in both White and Black Pearl.

I have no record of any of the small H-1 facing right rearing guys nor the Giant H-11 in a Pearl.

Seeing as H-1 v. 1 and H-15/'62 are what I think are the earliest molds, I'd hazard a guess that the Pearls were later colors. 


How about something else we've not seen here, before? What if they made the A-9 Naturals in a color similar to a bay? Don't get excited, no eyes, but it's quite different than the other Naturals!

Photo courtesy Joan Berkwitz.

Derivative molds abound, but the fact that some colourways matched the Lane/Marcia colors is quite charming. One could display a matching set, even with derived later mold versions. This so appealed to the average home decorator of the time. Picturing a living room with one of those old enormous cabinet TVs, topped with an entire set of gold-purple-whites, arranged on huge lace doilies, just tickles me.

This doesn't look right: someone forgot the Gold!

Both H-1 v.2

H-1 v.2 displayed with 1156 (a derived mold), close but not the same gold application.

Another 1156, different green, and still not the same in gold application.

Have you found a mold/color combination not previously recorded on this blog? Email me!


Thank you to Joan Berkwitz, Jayne Kubas, and Heather Jackson-Lain for some of the images in this post!

Fearless in Handling Ceramics

As a person who handles a lot of ceramics- in collecting, producing, and restoring them- I get asked how I got so comfortable with them. 

"Where did you get nerves of steel? And, can we borrow some?"

Practice, and developing a light yet secure grip, is key to reaching a certain comfort level. The other thing is, I know no experience I will face with ceramics, not even shipping them blind across the country or the oceans, will ever be as harrowing as the one that shaped me.

It was the summer of 1996, and I was about to experience my very first trip to BreyerFest in Lexington, KY. I had only been to one model horse event outside my home state of California, prior to this mega-convention. I had never flown with models before, and on top of that, I am not a big fan of air travel. Let's just say, it was a big commitment of finances, courage, and a general gamble. I was living at Pour Horse Pottery, at the time. Joan Berkwitz and I were convinced that we needed to vend at this ultimate model horse convention to properly promote the then-fledgling pottery.

While Joan produced a bunch of Bressay ceramic ponies to sell at the 'Fest to cover her expenses, I made some claybody customs to sell to cover my share of the hotel and my flight. When I did OFs and customs, I paid Joan to do the moldmaking, pouring, and airbrushing, and I did the rest. 

This was the 1990's. The only other claybody customs (ceramics resculpted in greenware) known at that time were the cold-painted (unglazed) works of Janice Brent Starr. There was no Custom Glaze division in shows. Glazed claybodies were so rare and new, people often asked, "What am I looking at? Will it last?" because the idea of changing a ceramic was not yet commonplace. Longevity was a question because customized Breyers, with their cracking putty and fillers, were the only analogs. With big dreams of funding my entire trip and keeping my dog in prescription food, I claybodied a Voltage into a trot, and an Owynn into a cantering pose. 

A claybody custom from a Voltage, named "Lyre".

Resculpt by author, airbrushed by Joan, detailed/glazed by author.

Photo by Joan Berkwitz.

What a normal OF Voltage looks like.

Photo by Joan.

A claybody custom from a Pour Horse Pottery Owynn, titled, "Coch Pistol".

Photo by Joan.

An OF gray Pour Horse Owynn.

Photo by author.

I was also filling Voltage orders at the time, as the 90-day ordering period had closed, and the claybodies were worked on in stolen moments. They were risky poses, had delicate facial details, and were generally the ultimate I had done in art, up to that time. They were each going to be sold for nearly 8 times what a Voltage earned me, after the dealers' cut. Hopes. Dreams. Ambitions. Eggs. One basket. 

Literally, one basket. I didn't own luggage (I had a backpack), but Joan loaned me the use of her small vintage ladies' cosmetic hard-side case. It was the right size to fit under a plane seat, and I fully intended to carry-on these horses. Frankly, if I could have had them installed surgically for the flight, I might have considered it. That is the only way I can summarize how seriously I needed these horses to survive their voyage to BreyerFest.

Note: this is long before 9/11. There was no aggressive TSA. In fact, flying was super mellow and easy, compared to today's security routine. You could go to the gates with your family to see them off or meet them. You could buy a ticket with cash at the counter. These were carefree times.

So, here we are, arriving at San Diego airport to fly to Lexington. It's July, and we even went out and got new summer clothes for the trip because we heard that Kentucky was really hot and muggy (men's shorts, no super-short shorts that are routinely marketed to young ladies). We resembled laid-back skaters or surfers with our loose T-shirts and long shorts, long hair, and very light luggage. I was one step up from carrying my clothes in a paper grocery sack. We weren't high-maintenance. I didn't even own any makeup.

Looking back on it, through the eyes of the airport staff, we didn't look like typical lady travelers heading anywhere overnight, let alone ladies heading across the country for nearly a week. We probably looked very, very odd. 

We dutifully placed our carry-on luggage on the X-ray conveyor belt, and quickly went to the other end to collect them. I was more than a little wide-eyed, no doubt, since so much money was riding on that bumpy conveyor and about to bang at the end of the metal slide. The X-ray tech stopped the conveyor, and I can't even remember how many airport staff entered the scene at this point. It may have just been the one tech, it may have been five people surrounding us. All I remember is the next few minutes were the most horrifying ceramics-related moments of my life.

We were told to immediately open the hard-side carry-on. I told them it had fragile ceramic horses, is there some place I can lay them down while I unwrap them? They were mummified with toilet paper, as there was no room for our stiff 1996 custom foam inserts in luggage. 

No, do it right here, completely unwrap the items. 

And, did you say, "ceramic horses"? 

We'll need to break them open.


*** Reader, I will give you a moment.***


To my credit, I did not have a nervous breakdown right there in the airport X-ray line. I felt like every bit of me was shaking with a spicy blend of financial-ruin-horror and anger. I had never had a brush with the law. I was always a good kid, always followed rules, worked at a stable, Honors classes, and perpetual A+ in Citizenship. The worst thing I did in high school: I painted the musical Phantom of the Opera poster on a friend's mortarboard, and a zebra on my own, to innocently celebrate graduation. No one had ever said we couldn't decorate them, and since we paid for them, we mistakenly thought they were our own to do with as we pleased. My high school saw this as threatening self-expression and a gateway to gang insignia. Yeah. Andrew Lloyd Webber always be gangbangin'. I was threatened with my diploma being withheld because of Art. (This, sadly, is not a joke.) I was never an actual troublemaker.

So, this whole scene was completely foreign to me. I was being singled out by authority for my perfectly innocuous, hand-made horses, and being told I will not be able to pay for the very trip I'm embarking on because the X-ray tech wants to break open my claybody customs.

Joan and I were completely shocked and, of course, asking why, and who do they think they are?

Another security dude comes over. They just asked us: "Are they hollow?" 
Our answer of "yes" was apparently the wrong answer.

After the concerned security people had roughly turned my horses over and over in their hands, and mumbled among themselves, they finally gave us part of their reason.

Recently, passengers had come through this airport with ceramic horses in their luggage. These hollow ceramic horses had been stuffed with drugs. The X-ray techs now have to break open any and all horses that they see on the screen, and check them for drugs.

Joan pointed out the tiny 1/16" stilt holes in their bellies, asking incredulously, "How could anyone put drugs in those holes?"

How we must have looked to the security staff: shady, shorts-wearing skaters, with way too little luggage to look like legit out-of-state travelers. Backpack. No makeup. An adult woman and a 15-year-old, whose driver's license "says" she's twenty. And the kid looks like she's about to lose her mind, watching every movement of the horses with crazy eyes, and quivering. She's wearing a very weird hat, looks like a drug thing. And they both are questioning the routine destruction of some cheap, crappy knickknacks! Suspicious.

The weird hat. Photo by Joan, from the same time as this adventure.

The author packing the first batch of Voltages on Joan's front lawn.

I have since had three-hour layovers in other airports, layovers that become frantic gate changes across the entire airport complex. I've had indirect cross-country flight schedules where I was awake for 24 hours straight. None of those experiences took as long as those minutes at the luggage X-ray. 

At last, the security staff decided that, indeed, there was no place on the horses' bellies to fit a plug for drug installation. The stilt holes were truly too small to stuff baggies of anything, and they certainly weren't plugged, nor dusting out coke like over-sized salt shakers. When we explained again that they weren't cheap tourist ceramics, that we made them by hand, and then quoted their value, the staff looked at each other. They handed them back, not without suspicious glances, and we were stuck TP-mummifying irreplaceable ceramics in a busy airport, with no soft or uncrowded place to wrap them. Strangers. Elbows. Jostling.

Every collector knows how horrid it feels to rush to pack a china, let alone under emotional duress, and with a now-impending flight departure. That was bad.

Despite the mad re-packing, these custom ceramics survived the security inspection and the flight, and were sold at BreyerFest. They remain in collector hands, to this day. 

The art of claybody customizing has changed so vividly in the past 18 years, it may seem odd that so much stress and value was rolled up in these two early pieces. But, at the time, for the time, a claybody custom was cutting edge and almost impossible to attain. All the claybody customs Joan & I had made by that time could be counted on one hand. They showed in Artist Resins divisions, if you ever even saw one. I can't even think of a good analogy for something like that phenomenon, today. 

This ceramic airport experience is why I am so mellow about layering my ceramics in plastic bins to go to shows. It's why I seem pretty unconcerned about the whole process of exhibiting, selling, and shipping. Nothing can be worse than having persons in authority tell you they are going to bust open the bodies of your artwork right in front of you, because they suspect you of a federal crime. If the post office breaks your horse, at least you don't have to witness it and simultaneously be excruciatingly aware of some ludicrous excuse for the destruction. This will never happen at a model horse show. 

Too bad the molds weren't long-ears. Drug mules.