Making light of glass

August 14, 2007

Gosh, I love that headline–I could take that one just about anywhere, talking about the properties of light and how they relate to glass, chiding people who take the whole glass thing so seriously, cracking jokes about glass…

But the only joke I’m cracking right now is “what do you get when you melt 65 pounds of glass into 40 pounds of investment in a bathtub kiln?”

A backache.

There are days, particularly when I’m casting, when I wonder why I couldn’t fall in love with balsa wood? I can lift a balsa wood cube 3 feet on a side with one hand.

Ever try to lift a solid block of glass that size? I might as well be casting with lead.

A very prominent glass sculptor once told me she’s noticed that as she gets older her glass sculptures are getting smaller and smaller. “By the time I’m 65 I’ll be down to making pendants,” she snorted.

She said this right after I mentioned that a mold I was using was so heavy I could barely get it into the kiln without assistance. “Have you thought,” she said kindly, “about what happens when you fill it up with glass? How are you going to get it OUT of the kiln?”

Uh….

Actually, I got the 65-pounder out without too much trouble…just removed the investment in the kiln and staggered a bit on the way to the counter.

And I’m seriously thinking that I haven’t yet plumbed the depths of small-but-lovely. I do well with giving myself assignments bounded by strict parameters. For the sake of my back I may limit my castings to 9×9 blocks until I can get one of those engine block lifter-crane thingees.

Live short and prosper, apparently

August 13, 2007

Want your baby to have a long, long life? Go give birth in Andorra.

CNN (via the Institute for Health Metrics and Evaluation and the National Center for Health Statistics in DC) just broke a story on the life expectancy of a baby born today, and surprise! The US places 42nd in life expectancy, behind a whole bunch of other countries including Andorra, Japan, Singapore, Macau, and a great deal of Western Europe.

The reasons for our poor showing are complex, but chief among them: We don’t guarantee access to good medical care. Poor folk, especially in minimum-wage or self-employed jobs, can’t afford health insurance and are dependent on a sometimes-dicey public health system for whatever they can find.

Of course, there are other reasons, too: the obesity epidemic, high infant mortality, very high death rates in some demographics (such as young black males).

But all of a sudden the United States DOESN’T have the world beat in those areas we were so smugly certain we owned: health, riches (well, standard of living), technology, education (and literacy), athletics, leisure time, etc. We don’t have the highest standard of living (nowhere near it), many of our technologies lag behind and we have a higher percentage of illiterates than many of the countries we consider “backward.”

Perhaps, then, the fact that we don’t live as long is actually a blessing. And as 60 becomes the new 40, and sex symbols like Harrison Ford and Sean Connery prepare to drive wheelchairs instead of Jaguars, I’m sure this will make us feel a whole lot better.

Which came first? The red cross or…the Red Cross?

August 9, 2007

Redcrosses.jpg
So Johnson & Johnson, a family company, is suing the American Red Cross for trademark infringement of its red cross.

This oughta be fun.

112 years ago ARC founder Clara Barton (apparently unwisely) agreed that J&J had exclusive rights to use a red cross to sell bandaids and first aid kits and the like. Now the Red Cross has gotten into the business of selling first aid kits, too, and J&J says the whole red cross thing is a violation of its trademark agreement.

ARC CEO Mark Everson has responded in a remarkable combination of flag-waving and chagrin over Ms. Barton’s apparent short-sightedness. The first aid kits sold by the ARC for both fund-raising and to “help Americans prepare for disaster.” The Red Cross will probably do a great job of portraying corporate giants beating up on poor little humanitarians like ARC. (Of course, calling ARC poor or little is akin to not noticing the two-ton elephant sitting next to you on the sofa.)

J&J wants ARC to stop selling medical supplies (and give J&J the profits) and to stop using the cross on anything (apparently) but signs over a first aid tent.

Interesting. I wonder if J&J is planning to sue the Defense Department next? Or perhaps just people who make money and employ red crosses, like hospitals, ambulances, pharmaceutical companies, etc., etc.?

A washing machine IS a gadget, you know…

August 6, 2007

So Gus the washing machine finally bit the dust over the weekend. We’re holding the wake tomorrow.

Poor fella’s been on his last legs for awhile.

Most of the time his switch wouldn’t pop out to power on the wash cycle unless you swung around the dial juuuuuuuuuust right, then pulled it out smoothly without stopping. I grew to regard that switch as a weird kind of authentication I hacked to obtain clean clothes.

In July, though, it took nearly 300 dial twists to persuade Gus to work and I realized that things were getting out of hand. Dad replaced the switch, which at least stopped that nonsense…but then the rinsey-spinney thing quit.

It is absolutely amazing how much water a load of towels can hold if you don’t have a rinsey-spinney thing (and even more amazing how long it takes to dry those towels).

I’d had it. I handed Gus a sword, he got seppuku all over the laundry room floor, and I headed down to Lowes to buy a replacement.

Based on my sister’s recommendation I chose a Whirlpool Duet Sport. Between Lowes sales and Whirlpool rebates and Oregon energy rebates and tax credits, I wound up getting it for about half price. “And don’t feel bad about Gus,” said the Lowes rep, “He was only supposed to live 8-10 years and you had him for 15.”

So I guess it was time. The delivery guys are coming tomorrow; I’ve lit a candle on poor old Gus. I thought about holding a vigil there tonight, maybe put on some old Gregorian chants. But somehow I think Gus would prefer a night of quiet contemplation before he heads for that laundry pile in the sky.

I’ll do the first load of wash in his memory.

Update 8/7/07: Well, that’s that. Gus headed off to glory on the Lowes liftgate and I’m loading up Griff, his replacement. Griff is shorter, squatter and definitely wider, in a buff kinda way. A button has replaced Gus’ ratchety dial, so I guess my twisting days are over.

Ave, Gus.

The wax thing, part II

August 5, 2007

If you read yesterday’s post you probably got that I’m not exactly the world’s biggest fan of sculpting wax. Now, don’t get me wrong–I did waxwork for jewelry for years, so I know how. But translating into the scale I’m working with glass? Forget it.

I am a huge fan, though, of sculpting in clay. That’s why I’ve spent many hours figuring out how to cast my glass sculptures without a sticky, crud-colored drop of victory brown wax in the house. It worked.

Mostly.

Which is probably why I was visited by the wax missionaries. They arrived, disguised as houseguests and fellow artists, just as I was pulling two Emergents studies (Dogwoodman and Hostafading) out of the kiln. The casting glass, a mixture of BE Light Peach Cream and BE Crystal Clear powder, centered with chunks of BE CC for light transmission, had performed like a champ. I had two honeyed, gorgeous alabaster pieces that glowed from within, exactly as planned.

Unfortunately, in getting the wax out of the undercuts I’d violated Casting Rule #1: Never futz with the surface of the mold. Disrupt the ultra-smooth skin that develops when you invest your model, and your cast will look as if you poured superglue over it and tossed it into a sandstorm.
EmergentSand1.jpg
The clay had dried a tad too long when I invested it, and instead of pulling it out in wet, plastic chunks I’d had to scrape it out, bit by bit, with dental tools. Impossible NOT to mar the surface, ergo, I also got the sandstorm effect.
EmergentsSand2.jpg
Drat. (which translates to “go find a sandblaster”)

The wax missionaries shook their heads. “You know” said one gently, “If you’d used wax in your mold…”

I gritted my teeth and recited the anti-wax credo:
AntiwaxCredo.jpg
“Hmmmmm,” she said, silently invoking the gods of wax.

Suddenly, strange things began to happen. I ran out of clay when I was SURE there was a big box of it in the garage. Out of the blue, my guests discovered that their own (huge) sculptures couldn’t be de-kilned in time for an important gallery opening, and they desperately needed to make more.

And the little voice inside my head took over, the voice that normally tells me stuff like, “SURE you can park here without getting a ticket,” and “The IRS doesn’t care about little things like THAT.”

“You’re welcome to use my studio to make more. You can show me how. It’ll be fun!”

Upshot: I got a terrific chance to help a talented and incredibly skilled sculptor build a model from scratch, refine it, invest it, steam it out, fill it with glass and cast it in my kiln. It’s in there now (will be in there until August 9, in fact), and I can’t wait to see how it turns out.

Learned a lot. Shot a video on casting glass (which someday I’ll post). For once, the voice was right. Of course, it left out the dulcet-toned missionary part:

“Because I’m using wax instead of clay, see how it comes right out of there?”
“Doesn’t that wax give a lovely texture? Isn’t that wax just wonderful?”
“See? If you have a soldering iron that wax just flows and you can shape it SOOOOOO nicely…”
“The great thing about wax is it’s so flexible, you can bend that shape without breaking it.”
“I don’t think I could do this if it weren’t for the wax.”
“Boy, when I make these pieces I really have to thank whoever invented wax.”
“It’s sooooooo easy to fix your mistakes when you’re using wax, isn’t it?”
“Let me just make a wax for you so you can play with it and see how wonderful it is.”

I haven’t gotten that many broad hints since my ex-mother-in-law played baby-of-the-week for our Sunday dinners. (We’d arrive at the house to find a just-delivered mother on the living room sofa. “Why don’t you hold the baby for awhile, dear? There–isn’t that an adorable baby? Don’t you just ache to have a baby of your own?”)

So I not only got a terrific education in growing the scale of my sculptures, from acknowledged masters in the art…I also found my position on wax, er, softening. Grudgingly, I played with the wax.
WaxHostabowl.jpg
OK, so it wasn’t horrible. In fact, it was kinda nice the way it didn’t dry out if I left it on the table without water schpritzes and plastic wrap. And there was something kinda satisfying about carving it. And yeah, it was kinda cool the way it popped right off the damp plaster. And, well, there’s this idea I’ve been tinkering with that would be a real pain to do in clay…

So. I actually bought a block of wax and a crock pot. I’ll go find the wallpaper steamer and the other stuff this week. And if it works, I guess I get used to wax in the carpet.

–sigh–

Old Wives’ Tale

August 5, 2007

Supposedly this place has been written up in many magazines and appeared on Food Network a couple of times. Don’t know about that, but I do know that I’ve got friends who fly into Portland from several states over just to have OWT’s Hungarian mushroom soup. (or as my mother says, “that’s not soup; that’s gravy”) It is sinfully rich, delicious and known to cause expressions of awe in soup lovers. I’ve heard that their other soups are equally good, but if I’m in OWT, I’m ordering Hungarian mushroom soup, so who knows?

They specialize in accommodating vegetarians and people with dietary restrictions, and they do a lot of wow-man organic stuff, and some of it’s tasty. They’ve also got a waitstaff that can alternate between sweetly space cadet and surly, but who cares as long as they bring on the Hungarian mushroom soup? 

Why it’s a mistake to buy online adspace blindly…

August 4, 2007


‘Nuf said.

(from Shopping.com’s ad on TurkishPress.com)

The wax thing, part I

August 4, 2007


So I have this thing about wax. Love it for candles and jam jars and letters. Hate it for sculpting.

This is odd, since I sculpt. (And lately, I sculpt a lot.) But herewith I introduce the Antiwax Guild’s Credo:

Wax is sticky. Gets all over everything. Best way to get wax out of the carpet is to soak the stain in kerosene and set a match to it. Best way to get wax out of the grout in your kitchen tile is to move.

Wax is dangerous. You can leave a lump of usable clay in your studio for 30 years and the worst it will do is get hard. Or moldy. Or both. Leave a pot of hot wax on the stove for 30 minutes and you’ll think you’re the guest of honor at a witch burning. (i.e., never leave wax unattended. I know this from sad experience.)

Wax stinks. Ever burned out wax from a mold? I rest my case.

Wax just doesn’t FEEL like clay. Wax doesn’t give you that sensual “one with the earth” feeling that makes you want to sculpt. You can’t let wax dry to make it carvable, or add a bit of water for texture and sheen.

Wax is expensive. Price a 25-pound block of wax. Then price a 25-pound block of clay. ‘Nuf said.

Wax is too dark. Victory brown, the sculptor’s wax of choice, is so dark it’s almost black. For some reason I have a very (VERY) hard time visualizing the final piece in wax, or noticing nasty errors (until it’s too late, of course). Clay, especially the silvery Hanjiki porcelain I favor, shows every wrink and creasle, allowing me to fix mistakes before I pour the plaster.

Wax needs extra equipment. Lump of clay, set of fingers (and maybe an elbow) and you’re set. If you want to get fancy, buy some dental tools, a few cheap ceramic scrapers, snitch the rolling pin from the kitchen and tear up an old sheet. You’ve got enough to sculpt like Rodin. (And please don’t say “Rodin used wax.” I’m on a roll here.)

Wax? You’ll need all the above plus a wax cooker (crock pot, deep fat fryer, whatever) to keep the wax liquid without burning down your house. Soldering iron. Alcohol lamp. Disclosing wax to help you find and fix the flaws in the wax you can’t see because the wax is too darn dark. Some kind of steaming equipment to get the wax out of the mold. Wax remover for getting wax off stuff (doesn’t work but you’ll buy it anyway). Molds for forming clean strips and sheets and shapes in wax. Separate set-up to get the water and plaster crud out of de-molded wax so you can save money by reusing it.

Not to mention a separate studio space just for wax because (a) you don’t want to spend more time cleaning than making and (b) if you let wax contaminate your glass you’ve had it.

I’ve just spent the last two years figuring out how to do glass casting with my very detailed, very undercut sculpting style, without using wax. I’ve gone through a lot of techniques, lot of investment formulations, essentially developed a direct clay-to-investment method that mostly works.

Or so I thought, until I was accosted by the wax missionaries

Hmmm. This is getting too long. I think I’ll post now and do part II tomorrow or sometime. Stay tuned…

Looking for (art v craft) soundbytes

August 1, 2007

So, reading some of the comments on my Artistry/Artisanry post, and being a journalist trained in summing up years of patient complications in a catchphrase….how about this:

Art focuses on communications first, aesthetics second. (or maybe not at all).
Artisanry focuses on aesthetics first, communications second (or maybe not at all).

Does that work?

–cynthia

P.S. Hmmmm. For some reason this question has turned up quite a bit for me in the weekend’s online forays (and I wasn’t even looking for it). Here are some other takes:

Tom Wolfe: “By 1982, no ambitious artist was going to display skill, even if he had it…Art worldlings regard popularity as skill’s live-in slut. Popularity meant shallowness.”
Tom Stoppard: “Imagination without skill gives us contemporary art.”
Toni Sikes (runs Guild.com): “Here at The Guild, we consider work produced by a talented and skilled artist to be a piece of art.”
Robert Wittig: “…I realized the meaning of art, as opposed to the skill of painting…I also realized that I was right about most of the modern art stuff. Most of it is not very good…mediocre, and downright lousy…but some of it is art.”

Paley’s Place

August 1, 2007

OK, I’d like these guys just for their website–it’s one of the nicest small business sites I’ve seen in awhile, and they’re also on the glass in Portland list. I probably should call it “northwestern” cuisine–they do.

It’s northwestern, though, because they opt for organic, locally grown and sustainable raw ingredients, and when they get through with it you understand why. In most restaurants, the vegetables are pretty much platefillers. Here, you come in looking for greens. I particularly like what they do with poultry–it’s juicy and flavorful. And, oddly, a colleague ordered a liver dish on the menu that day, and we all loved it.

Again in the not-cheap category–if you are conservative, a salad, entree, veggie and beverage (plus tip) is going to run about $50 each.

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