My shack life: for another door-part 3

I guess it's been a few weeks since I finished the door for the studio but I find that it's still a bit cold to do much drawing. My fingers get stiff and just don't do what I ask them to do. It's kind of like talking with frozen lips. So, I need to install a wood stove, but it's not going to happen this season, for sure. But that's okay, this place makes a good spot out of the weather for my wood butchery.

I had to scratch my head for a minute when I thought about this latch. I wanted it made from wood to match the hinges and I wanted it to be spring-loaded so it would slide in on its own when I closed the door. The wood is poplar like the hinges and most of it came from the framework of a couch I no longer wanted. The spring I scrounged out of the tool shack-I have no idea where that originated.

 This summer, I'll dismantle the whole door, take it outside, and sand all the pieces smooth (actually, my wife said that she would do it, for I don't have the patience.)

my shack life:for another door-part 2

There isn't much room in the smaller shack. But there is enough for a small studio. Somewhere along the way, the entire house turned into a studio and I've found that it's not working for me in a streamlined fashion. I figure that it's time to scale down a bit.

So I cut a hole in a wall and needed to fill the hole with a door. A few rough planks that were being used for shelves in the tool shack will work. The one in the center is 18" wide-that's cool for me, I don't come across those very often. I almost wanted to hoard it and not use it.

But anyway, it's all about the wooden hinges...and I'm sanding one of their pieces, right now...how 'bout that?

So then I found enough screws to put everything together, and how 'bout that? It works.
I think now I should make a wooden latch.

my shack life:for another door

For the past few days I've been working on studio space in a small spot in the back of the shack. To keep out the on-coming winter temperatures, I feel I need a door.

Of course, to hang the door, I need hinges. I searched through my mass of salvage but couldn't find matching (or unmatching) hinges that I wanted to use so I've decided to make them myself.

Here are the roughed-in pieces, made from poplar wood, ready for the sander and drill press.

I don't know how well they're going to work if they work at all...we'll find out.



sketchbook

the sound machine

A depiction of  "The Sound Machine" . A short story by Roald Dahl.

Duck and Sir

nutbush flats #20

On some level, a witless soul can even comprehend the fruitless nature of his own region.

Duck and Sir,Again

A person gets agitated over what he can't control. Some days it's better to close the door and draw the blinds and close the eyes.

Cleaver

Marketing? are you kidding?

A few photos and junk for a little slide show marketing thing that I'm working on for a little thing that I'm doing...photographs are by sara#5.

every Tom, Dick, and Harry...

(oh, how I long for another rainy summer day

 with some house paint and a cheap-ass Crayola paintbrush.)

It's like you can't go out anymore without every Tom, Dick, and Harry all up in your business. If I want to walk the birds I'll walk the birds.

duck and sir #3

i see stars

I'm seeing lots of this kind of thing-drawings on the pages of crappy books...or should I say (with air-quotes) "vintage" books.  I thought I would try it for myself, but now I think I'm done.

duck and sir #2

Pushcart Gallery

Inspired by hot dog carts, gypsy wagons, and carnivals- my pushcart art gallery.

I kept it small so there wouldn't be any room for the "Snooties" to walk the floor and stroke their chin and contemplate the depths of my tortured soul.

Actually, it is a reaction to the high-brow, splatter paint painters...what can I say? I guess I'm just low-brow and easily bored with the whole "accidental art" abstract expressionistic trained-monkey paint smearer club. (yeah, it's fun to do, but DANG! How many smears can a person make without going mad?)

And as I view these photos, I stroke my dirty beard and ask myself. "What tortured soul would spend precious time producing such a thing from the junk laying about his yard?"
And I wonder." Would it not be more enlightening and mentally healing to just clean up the yard?"

So, that's that. That's all it is. (...and it's kind of empty, but I'll get on that soon. I guess.)

junky

Your soul dripped off your lip and soiled your shirt. What do you care? You followed the leader. Soiled shirts are acceptable, now.

Duck and Sir

Hunkered down in Sandytown while waiting for the rain to stop or the lights to stop, I found moments of peace in making pictures.

my shack life and junk

 

Sometimes I need to step out of the digital concentration camp for a minute and feel something...too get away from one dimension into six...

                    When we moved into our shack I had a door. One door.

                              I found some junk. Now, there's almost five.

                    I can't seem to settle for letting things be what they are.
                                ...and I can't go for "sterile"...or closed in.

nutbush flats #19

After crawling under the bed, after pushing aside papers and books, after looking through pockets of dirty jeans...after looking behind dirty dishes, behind bowls of tomatoes, amongst toothbrushes, beside the phones and alarm clocks, and in winter coats, I found a dollar bill. But, I was looking for a black technical pen that wasn't dried up...

and I didn't find one. Although, while on my quest, a bottle of ink and a new dip pen did appear. So, I burned the nib and set to work and realized that I shall never return to a Micron. 

Well, maybe I shouldn't say that. Dip pens are mighty difficult to manage when one has a sketchbook propped on his knees while in bed..

Car 54-extended version

salt with crackers #2

It's because that is what we chose to do...we chose to put all of our things into little boxes with little categories with doors for each. Some we kept locked and others were rolling and spilling all over. And the doors were behind the faces of  drawers. Some which would slide forward and others would shut and the whole cabinet would shake as we pushed it over the floor.

my shack life-yard trip#7