After many weeks of deliberation and second-guessing and fearing for the worst, Tuesday night I finally set about putting the finishing touches on the rolling ball sculpture for which my friend Tina made the base. Getting some help on a base was a new twist on my sculpture building, short though its history may be. By the time Tina was finished I was so pleased with the results I was just certain that I was going to do something to horribly wreck the end result.
I didn’t like the most obvious method to me, which was to tie it down with wire through holes drilled in the base. Tina, of course, was totally fine with that, but I wasn’t. Being a fix-it/mechanic/backyard engineer, I had half a dozen concepts in my head for better ways to do it, ways that seemed classier, ways that would look better, and ways that might function better. These ways, these many awesomely-conceived and clever ways, generally involved materials that weren’t readily available (tiny U-bolts anyone?), methods that were time-consuming (fashioning custom brass feet interlocking with routed cutouts and countersunk brass screws), or stupid expense (back to those custom tiny U-bolts again).
I decided once and for all to use the wire and just accept the fact that, at this point, it was my best option both in terms of ability and expediency (after I mulled it over and fretted about it for four or six weeks…or, um, eight weeks, of course).
Tuesday night I picked up the drill. It was scary. I was going to drill a hole in this carefully executed bit of wooden artwork that Tina had created for me. Visions of a slip of the hand and the drill bit skittering across its surface, gashing the tongue-oiled brilliance of the piece went through my head. Yeah, that was what was going to happen, I was sure of it. Definitely. No other possible way out of it. Oh, well, there was one other: I was going to drill crooked holes with terrible burrs at the edges and the result would be so distracting as to make the piece as a whole just look like a hack-job.
Okay, maybe there was one other possible outcome: it would be fine, but I wasn’t betting on that one, at least not the noisiest part of my brain.
However, I listen to that quiet part of my brain more these days, the part that says, “Yeah, you know, there IS a possibility that things could go wrong, but, dude, you’ve drilled HOW many holes in your life? I mean, really, give yourself a little credit. You’re going to make reference in the divots before you start, and you’re one of the most ridiculously careful people on earth. You’ve stacked the odds in your favor that you can succeed at this. Just take a deep breath, and do the work. The results will be what they’re supposed to be, and that’s okay.”
So, having made my reference marks and double-checked everything four times (that’s eight checks total, right?) I fired up the trusty Skil cordless and went to work. Once the holes were drilled I went to work underneath with my fabulous rotary tool and routed out room for the twists of wire that would hold everything down tight. I should have take a picture of this part, but I completely forgot about it for once. I guess that’s a sign of how driven I was to finish the thing.
I feel very fortunate in that there really were no major snags. The wire ended up being pretty decent as a fastening concept, and I only had to cut and redo one attempt. I soldered everything on the underside so that it will hopefully never come loose. Then I put on a sheet of adhesive cork that Tina provided so that the base won’t scratch anything.
Here it is, and it’s fantastic!
Overall shot.
I don't have video, but here's a shot of it in action.
Detail shot of Tina's work and the mount for one of the feet.
I’m glad to have finally completed this one, and I thank Tina for making it really stand out. The other day I saw a notice online for a local art show that is having an open call for art work, and I think I may send a photo in of this one and see what happens with that. It may be that I can use this as an opportunity to meet some other folks who enjoy this kind of art.
Man, I’ve now finished up two creative efforts within the space of a week. Last Sunday was the novel, and then Thursday night I finished up this sculpture. I sure am glad I took some time out for myself to work on my projects. I’m feeling a little better about things now.
On a related note, weeks ago I was talking with a friend of mine about my sculpture work, and she said, “You know, my ex-husband used to do work with metal stuff, and I have a whole roll of copper sheet sitting around that I was going to throw away. Do you want it?”
I had a bit of a coughing fit for a moment, and then I accepted. See, metals have shot up in price (along with all kinds of other stuff) in the past couple of years. I had just been thinking about buying some copper sheet and trying it out with my sculptures, but I was a little concerned about the expense.
For a few weeks there were a bunch of missed connections meeting up with my friend again, but on Saturday a group of us were out for lunch, and she said, “Hey, guess what? I made sure to put the copper in the right car today. I have it for you!”
She hadn’t told me much about it except that it was “a roll of copper sheet.” When we got it out of the trunk, this is what I found I’d been bequeathed:
You may notice that this copper looks rather yellow. I did too. I said, “It looks to me like this may be brass.” She said, “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that.” I happily told her it was no problem, that brass would solder up to copper just as easily as the identical metal, and, in fact, I’d already started doing as much with my spare harmonica reed plates. I was totally jazzed and thanked her.
Later that night I went to take it downstairs. It was heavy. I mean, she really had given me a bunch of material. I got curious and laid it on the bathroom scale. Twelve pounds! That’s a lot of brass! I don’t know how many feet there are of it, but let’s just say I’m not going to be running out of it any time soon. It’s heavy gauge stuff too, so I’ll be able to fashion plenty of supporting objects out of it. It’s really good stuff!
I used to think that things like this just happened to people who were “lucky,” but these days it seems to me that if I put out the message of what I’m interested in, what I enjoy, what I’m working on, then things like this happen in turn. I’ve been operating under that idea for a little while now, and it’s been interesting what sorts of things have shown up in my life because of it. I see no point in changing tactics. Now, I wonder what would happen if I went around saying, “I want to write for a living” to everyone I ran into? Hmmm…
Stay creative!