I Cried When I Sold It

I just had a fantastic idea for a post and lost the idea as I sat down in front of my keyboard. Has that ever happened to you? It is definitely related to age. In the last few months, I have found myself losing many things, ideas being one of them. Another thing I am losing is motivation. I seem too content watching videos endlessly. Writing is becoming a chore, and reading is also becoming a drag. However, reading may be eye-related. And the idea I lost in the first sentence just returned to me. Trains. I love watching videos of model trains running endlessly through some beautifully detailed man made scenery. The detail in some of these layouts is amazing. Another thing I am astonished by is the many new scales that are being adopted by the hobbiests. New models are getting smaller and smaller by the day. The challenge of course is to build train layouts with buildings and scenery to match the scale. It is not unknown to see modelers making layouts on a coffee table platform or smaller.

The model train hobby is growing. I had previously thought it was limited to old men who worked for railroads as careers. I have put building a model train diorama on my bucket list. The idea of making an utterly realistic layout on a desktop fascinates me. That, and the idea of spending my retirement nest egg on man toys, seems fun. About thirty years ago, I had a similar urge, which I acted upon and built a model railroad in my garden. The job was challenging but thoroughly satisfying. I selected G-gauge as the medium because the trains were rather large and very detailed. As with all of my brainstorms the project got out of hand because I over thought it. The larger the scale the closer to reality things have to be modeled. The first impasse I reached was that I needed a large space in order to navigate the grade changes in my yard. Trains don’t like to go uphill. When the wheels are steel and the rails are steel, the coefficient of friction is not very suitable and the tracks have to be very level to keep things running. Have you ever seen a train running up a hill? If you did, the hill was very gradual at about 1-2% grade.

This is not my garden. I lost all of my original photos.

I decided to change the paradigm to make a very long story shorter. Instead of making a yard that looked like a miniature city with a railroad running through it, I decided to make a garden with a railroad to add some drama to the plants. The effort paid off because I had enough of a project to keep me interested in gardening and model railroading. The garden involved my wife Barbara who chose all of the plant life, and me who laid the track, built a trestle bridge that crossed alive stream, a tunnel that ran under a waterfall, and a trestle to climb up the hill.

Barb and I belonged to a garden club that held a yearly garden walk to raise money. My train project deadline was debuting the PA&GRR (Prestwick Area and Garden Railroad). Of course, I finished in time, and the railroad was a hit. Many visitors told us others had told them to see this garden.

As a side story, on the morning of the Garden Walk, about an hour before the first visitors arrived, I was sprinkling water on select plants when I saw something that horrified me. A large garter snake was poking his head up vertically out of the ground cover next to the tracks. Oh my God! All I could think of was the hysteria that this critter would cause if he appeared to the many people visiting during the show. I went after him with a spade in hand ready for decapitation, but he disappeared and I never saw him again.

I cried when I sold that house, garden, and the railroad with it.

Pencil Stubs

Yesterday, I started a new Intarsia project. It’s been a few months since I completed ‘Libre’ the Bald Eagle, and my weary bones yearn for the woodshop. My projects always begin with a model. Usually, it is a photograph of something that moves me. This time, the subject is a piece of art I bought on one of our trips to Arizona. It is a three-dimensional, life-size rendering of a Lotus leaf. The artist found the leaf in the Far East and then used it to cast a mold. He then filled the mold with an epoxy ceramic material to form a hard rendering. On this casting, he applied various colors. While the paint was still fluid, he spun the casting to move the paint outward from the center. The effect is similar to that of a tie-dyed shirt, with the colors spread through the various veins within the leaf. It has been one of my favorite pieces, and I have promised to give it to my stepdaughter as part of an inheritance from her mother.

The next step in my process is to make a paper pattern of the model. In this case, I used a digital photo of the artwork and projected the image using my computer. I taped a large sheet of vellum paper to the screen and began tracing. I dug around in my desk drawer for a pencil and found a Number 2 yellow wood Faber Castel with an eraser that is petrified to the end. The pencil had been sharpened using a hand crank sharpener, giving the tip a perfect conical shape. The lead was rather blunt from prior use, and it needed resharpening. That is when my brain kicked out a memory from seventy-five years ago. I was ten and using a similar yellow pencil to do my homework. My Grandpa Jim was living with us for the winter and sat in the armchair reading his four-week-old Hungarian newspaper in the living room. The memory is somewhat sketchy about why I threw a tantrum to get my pencil sharpened, but it needed sharpening. Grampa Jim pulled out his pocket knife and chipped away to give me a stubby-looking sharp point. My problem was that I insisted on having a perfect machine-sharpened conical point. He shook his head and let me go about screaming and hollering for a perfectly conical point. I left him to carry on with my mother for a conical point. After she ignored my demands, I returned to the living room, and Grandpa handed me a pencil with a perfectly conical point. He had taken the time to carve the wood into a perfect cone with lead to match. I was shocked, amazed, and satisfied that he had done it for me.

I don’t own a hand crank pencil sharpener anymore, and I didn’t even have a portable plastic jig with a blade that, when twisted around the end of a pencil, will result in a perfectly conical point, but I did find a pocket knife with a somewhat dull blade that I used to resharpen my number two yellow pencil. I hacked away the wood, scraped the carbon into a point, and traced the work while remembering Grandpa’s patience and skill with a pocket knife. It was a mellow moment.

Take Baby Steps, Fast

This has been a disappointing day. It began with sunshine and quickly morphed into a grey cloudy day with occasional sprinkles. Needless to say the temperature has been cool. I love warm, to very warm days like those we had a couple of weeks ago. There is an upside to this kind of day, it is great for the garden. The soil remains damp which helps the seeds that Lovely planted germinate. Several of her plots are showing signs of major growth. I even sowed some flower seeds around the perimeter of her garden and they too are sprouting. Hopefully they will mature and yield some colorful blooms.

About a month ago I dumped two dozen comet goldfish into the pond and now I watch them grow in size and reduce in numbers. The most I can count is eleven, so where are the remaining thirteen? Most likely in the belly of a bright green frog that lays in wait at the edge of the water. I’m tempted to dump another dozen or two into the water to become cousins to the ones that are now three times the size of what they were when they were first released.

After I finish this post I will cut up a potato and plant the eyes in a pot just to see what transpires.

My latest art project is progressing although rather slowly. I’m beginning to lose interest. I have learned something though, that is, that every time I make my own pattern I make it too complicated. As an artist I am a realist and try to make my pieces accurate. That means I wind up with too many small pieces of complicated shapes in an attempt to capture the subject realistically. Oh well, I keep telling myself to take baby steps, which is what I do. The trick is to take baby steps but fast.

Good Old Boys

Yesterday I go the surprise of my life as I opened the door to Ryan’s Pub. It was Friday, and during lent I abstain from eating meat. Lovely had just returned from a doctor’s appointment where he performed a biopsy. She was not a happy camper. Our plan was to go to Ryan’s for a fish dinner, but that fell apart when I had to go alone.

Just inside the door of Ryan’s is a section of bar, and sitting there were four of my very best friends. They were just as surprised as I was and greeted me with open arms. Naturally, I had to have an adult pop while I waited for my fish order to go. I felt like a teen ager gabbing away with my buds. The biggest difference was the topic of conversation. As teen agers we would have discussed the girls and their mammary protrusions, but as octogenarians we discussed aches and pains.

My new intarsia project is taking shape, I promised myself to have it finished by May. I have completed the cutting and moved on to fitting. With over a hundred pieces there is a whole lot of fitting going on. At this point the picture is not very pretty, there are too many wide spaces between parts and it isn”t a picture yet. I feel good about the wood colors I selected this time the object should look pretty natural.

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Making Dust

Intarsia is considered a craft, but it is also art. It is a little known art form which evolved from fifteenth century marquetry. Although marquetry is usually a picture in wood made from very thin and flat wood which is carefully inlaid onto another flat surface like a tabletop. Intarsia is very similar except the wood is thicker and shaped to give the picture three dimensions. Both Intarsia and marquetry came into existence somewhere in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries. A more modern form of Intarsia has come into being in the twentieth century. The latest form is less formal and more whimsical. It is what I endeavor to practice.

Many pieces that I craft are my original designs. So far the most pieces I made are from patterns designed by gifted artists. After making several pieces from patterns I began to experiment by adding a small touch of whimsy of my own. This practice is now evolving into completely original works.

My first Intarsia work circa 2000 A.D. Two Dolphins from a pattern

More work from patterns

Work from a pattern that has been embellished

COVID 19 Nurse, Thermometer added to a pattern design

The cloud, sky, grass, and the dandelion are touches to a pattern

The lure is an embellishment

My first original work. The image is from a calendar photo.

Horn Man from a photo of my grandson practicing his trumpet

Three Red Roses, from a photo

Cecil the Lion from a photo

Night Hunter, from a photo of a Barred Owl in Flight

Hummer Snack, from photos taken in my garden

Two White, One Red Rose, from photo

Coming in 2023 but to be unveiled later because I am just beginning the pattern design. A typical original work like Horn Man, Cecil the Lion, or Night Hunter can take up to five hundred hours of cutting, shaping, sanding, framing, and finishing. Because I pride myself on being a wood worker, I also make the frames. The round frame shown on the last photo has been my biggest challenge to date. Cecil the Lion is my favorite, and Horn Man took the longest.

I have gotten my inspiration from Intarsia artist Judy Gale Roberts.