It's the shortest day of the year, so I'm going to write one of my shortest blog posts of the year: I learned yesterday that "Beauty and Grace" has a place in ArtFields 2018. As I wrote in November, the piece is easily the most ambitious visual art project I have ever undertaken. I'm very happy that it will move from my driveway to somewhere people can see it. I hear Lake City, SC, is beautiful in April.

If you've discarded metal junk on the curbs of Shandon, Hollywood/Rose Hill, or Rosewood in the past year or given me stuff, chances are fair that some of your trash made its way into this piece. If I listed everything this would turn into one of my longest blog posts of the year. Thanks for your support, intentional or otherwise.

I have several months to figure out how to get the components onto a truck/trailer, safely moved down the highway, and re-assembled. I may need to contrive a contraption. I'll keep you posted. In the meantime, here's a picture of me and "Beauty" and a pair of videos from the concerts that bookended this adventure (Against Me! in Wilmington, NC, and Foo Fighters in Columbia). Enjoy!

I'm finally done with "Beauty and Grace." It has taken me about eight months of intermittent weekend work, from when the idea first ossified in my head during that Against Me! concert last March until I submitted it as my entry for ArtFields 2018 this evening. I finished "Grace" in time to put her into the second part of my Afterburner show at Tapp's in June, and I have mentioned the combined piece in passing a few times and posted a few photos on the Zero Point Mechanic page on Facebook. But other than I haven't talked about it too much.

That's because I was too busy struggling with it to spend energy talking about it. The beaten and bloodied boxer sitting on the stool between rounds doesn't want to chit chat.

Someone will probably accuse me of making up some art weirdo nonsense for saying this, but trust me when I tell you that sometimes you really don't know what a piece is about as you're making it. You think you know, but you don't. You're looking and seeing and doing, but meaning is percolating on some other level.

I always knew this piece was about the tension/opposition/inter-connectedness of transformation ("Grace") and acceptance ("Beauty"). It was only during another musical experience -- the Foo Fighters concert in Columbia last October -- that I understood the feeling I was going for. It's been a long week and it's beyond me right now to try to articulate it. That experience of hearing (and seeing, and feeling) live the music that connects together so many parts, people, places of my adult life was like pulling on a loose thread and seeing that what looks like a tangled mess is actually a beautifully complex, inter-connected structure. I understood then what  “Beauty” and “Grace” represent to me and how they connect, relate, and depend on one another for balance. I can't explain it. But it's art, so I don't really have to.

I'll write more about making this piece at some point. For now, here are some more images from my "four king sheets and a bunch of safety pins" hillbilly photo studio in my driveway: 

Just because I haven't been writing much about my art doesn't mean I haven't been busy. With the academic semester is in full swing, it's an evening and weekend pursuit. I've been working on a few different things but most of my energy has been going toward finishing up the piece I plan to enter in ArtFields (entries are due in early November).  Here are some highlights of what I've got coming up.

"Old Ben," Going Once . . .

As I mentioned earlier, I contributed a sculpture for the Columbia zoo's annual "ZooFari" fundraiser.  I don't really know how this sort of combination live/online auctions work, but there has already been at least one bid even through the live auction isn't until tomorrow evening.

You can bid on "Old Ben" here and I encourage you to do so. If the bid stays below $100, I'm going to buy it myself and he's going right back on my mantle.

Rosewood Art Festival Mystery Sculpture

My entry into the juried show at the Rosewood Art & Music Festival was accepted. The show itself is a one-day event on September 30th, so I'll drop the sculpture off in the morning, it will get judged, and then I'll pick it back up at 5:00. If it sells, I'll pick up a check that will go into the Zero Point Mechanic World Domination Fund.

For some reason I can't claim to understand, participants are not supposed to identify their entries online. So I'm not telling you what I entered. I'll just say I like it, but I'm putting a price tag on it.

If you're in the Columbia area, come and see some art and listen to some music on Rosewood.

Stickers: An Indoor Activity

I can't always work in my garage when I want to, so I stay busy indoors sometimes. I'm not doing much at these days that doesn't produce heat, sparks, and fumes, but I have taken to playing with sticker designs. You can see/purchase what I've come up with so far at my Etsy shop.

The tri-lobed rooster design is one I've been working on for a long time.

The yin-yang "dark-bright" Triceratops heads are something I worked on while we were cooped up inside getting lashed by the outer bands of Hurricane Irma. I couldn't decide on which color combinations and configurations I like the most, so I had a batch of 1" ones printed as a experiment.

South Carolina State Fair: A Pair of Birds

Next week I'll drop off my two entries for the South Carolina State Fair. I decided to go with two pieces from this year that I love and don't ever plan on selling. I'm not sure they're my best work, but they're a good pair. 

After everyone submits what they're going to submit, there is a process where they "jury out" things that aren't judged to be suitable for whatever reason. Everything that's left is judged, prizes are awarded, etc. Awards are announced in early October.

Last year, my crow sculpture won "Best of Show" in the amateur division. That was a real confidence booster, and it was a rare treat to get to take my kids to see my work literally in the spotlight with a big ass ribbon on it. I don't expect I'll be able to pull that off again, but I still love fairs and I'm looking forward to seeing all of this year's entries and seeing how mine do.
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ArtFields: Go Big or Go Home

ArtFields is a big deal: it's billed as one of the largest professional art shows in the Southeast. You can only enter one thing, and it's reportedly very difficult to get in. I missed the deadline last year but have been planning for this year ever since.

Originally I was planning on entering "Grace," but as the fall started I began thinking/imagining that I'd have enough time to also finish "Beauty" and produce the "Beauty and Grace" pairing I've been envisioning since I started on "Grace" last spring. 

The deadline is November 9, so I've got a month and half left. Wish me luck: it's going to be a push to get it done.

Summer is almost over, and the beginning of the academic part of my year looms in the near future. I was able to spend quite a bit of time on my art hobby this summer, beginning with stocking up for my May/June show at Tapp's and continuing to make stuff at a pretty rapid clip up until our family vacation. I won't be putting my workshop into mothballs, but archaeology will put the brakes on the art until the spring.

I've spent some time at the end of the summer taking photographs and creating a store on Etsy for the items that are for sale. I've also entered some pieces in upcoming shows and contributed one piece to a nonprofit auction. The "Art" section of my website is reorganized (and still under construction). Here's the rundown: 

And now you are up-to-date. As always, you can follow work in progress on the Zero Point Mechanic page on Facebook.

I didn't think it would happen, but it did: after my final push to finish new work for the Afterburner re-opening, I needed a break from the garage. I busted my butt for several sweaty, grimy weeks and got seven new things pushed out of my head. The Tapp's people helped me move them, and they did a wonderful job rearranging everything to integrate the new pieces. The place looked great on opening night, the weather cooperated, and there was a steady stream of people coming through. I enjoyed talking to everyone I met.  

I didn't make any new sales that night. The show isn't over yet (it runs until the 23rd), but it looks like I'll need to find homes for some of the larger pieces (I love them, but my backyard can only support so many large animals). If you're interested, have a look at what's for sale. If you like one of the larger ones and have a good plan for what to do with it, I'll talk turkey on price (contact Tapp's) and may be willing to discuss donating after the show is over in cases where a piece could be displayed in public (or in a business, etc.). In any case, this experience has helped me learn how to look forward to what's next in addition to looking back. That makes it easier to let things go. 

I haven't taken the time lately to write individual "how I made it" blog posts, but I did update the Gallery page with some photos of recently completed work. 

​And who knows what's next. I spent a few days shoehorning my old record player and 8-track into a sewing table.  Then I reorganized my workshop.  Then yesterday I started working on an owl made from an antique roller skate.

So . . . that was fun!

My show at Tapp's Arts Center opened last night during a heavy rain. Being as this is my first show and this was my first time being downtown on First Thursday, I have no points of comparison in terms of the number of people who walked through the door. I'm told it was a low turnout in general but a good turnout for a rainy night. 

I talked to a lot of interesting people (several of whom I had "met" online but never spoken with in person) and two of the sculptures sold (the heron and the cockfight are spoken for; the triceratops head, tyrannosaurus, rabbit, pachycephalosaurus, and stegosaurus are still available). I stayed up a few hours too late and had one glass of wine too many, but your first art show only happens once, so I give myself a pass.

I'm kicking myself a bit because I took very few photos during the show. It would be nice to have some images of people looking at stuff, and a picture or two with me in it. If you took any good pictures and you'd like to share them, please send me an email at [email protected]. 

Two "preview" pieces came out on Wednesday if you're interested. This one by August Krickel ran in the Free Times. This one by Brad Dountz appeared in Jasper Project blog.

Here are a few photos showing how Tapp's set things up. I thought it worked very nicely, and I appreciate all the hard work that Caitlin Bright, Shigeharu Kobayashi, and others put into the effort. Thank you!

If you've ever wanted to see the stuff I make but were afraid to ask, I invite you to come and have a look at Tapp's Art Center in Columbia, South Carolina. Pretty much everything I've done recently will be on display, including all the large sculptures that currently occupy my backyard. As long as we can do it without anyone getting hurt, we're going to haul them out of the garden and onto a pickup truck for a trip downtown. That should be fun.

I've spent a significant chunk of my discretionary time over the last month trying to get things ready to go. I fixed the rabbit's head, built a wooden base for the T-rex, finished the heron, and applied Penetrol to a couple of the outdoor pieces that I hope to sell. I still need to spiff up my giant dragonfly and my first triceratops and sign many of the pieces. All the small stuff is mostly ready to go.

I'm currently working on another large piece that I originally hoped I could complete in time for the show, but I don't think it's going to happen. I don't want to rush it.

Here is the description I wrote for the show:

This is the first time I've done anything like this. It's a strange feeling.

Here is the event on Facebook. If you're in the area, I hope you can stop by and support the arts in Columbia.

The short Palmetto Scene piece about my scrap metal art is now available online. I wish I had gotten a haircut first, but I guess you go to war with the haircut you have, not the haircut you want. Enjoy!

I've used my free time over the last month to work on a sculpture of a pachycephalosaurus. Why, you say? I've been asking myself the same thing.

I got the idea for this one because I had an oblong, convex piece of sheet metal that I thought looked about right for the dome. I had a few other pieces around that seemed about right for making the head. When I started looking online, there were a lot of images of these things charging, propelling themselves forward with heads lowered (hence the thick, domed skull, or so the theory goes). I liked the idea of trying to capture the dynamic, powerful posture depicted in images like this one and this one. I also liked the challenge of trying to create a big piece balanced on one leg. So the pachycephalosaurus project was off and running.

It's almost done. Here are some current photos.

There are things I really like about this one and there are things that aren't working. Starting with the good, I'm pretty happy with the pose I was able to capture. The photos don't really do it justice, but the lines of this one really do suggest a full charge, leaning into the right. The sculpture is very stable on a single brake rotor base, something I never would have been able to accomplish with my skills last year. So I think I succeeded in capturing a sense of motion while also achieving balance and stability.

In the "not satisfied" category, I'm not happy with a lot of my sheet metal work. The white pieces are from some door flashing I found in a curb pile: it's easy to shape but because it lots of long and skinny pieces it ends up looking like fabric wrapping (not the effect I want). I've been experimenting with blending the pieces together by welding and grinding, but it's not there yet. I may have to just add some other pieces of sheet metal to break up the lines. There are other places where I think some additional patches of sheet metal will help me get the sculpture closer to what I see in my head.

The tan sheet metal is from a four-drawer filing cabinet I had in the garage. The metal is a good thickness to shape and weld, and it's going a long way (it only took part of one drawer to cover much of the tail and put other pieces on the body to try to tie things together). The light green in the midsection is from some kind of seed/fertilizer spreader I bought at an antique shop on my way through Charlotte, North Carolina, over the summer. Parts of the arm and neck are the frame and runners from a sled I've been hauling around for a long time. My old tea kettle is in there, as are a bunch of things I recently got from the Midas in Cayce when we had some brake work done. The sheet metal for the dome is from the same lamp (donated by local artist Alicia Leeke) that I used to make the shoulders on the crow sculpture.

I am unaware of any other scrap metal pachycephalosaurus sculptures out there. This may be the only one.

I often post "in progress" photos of what I'm working on to this very sparsely populated Facebook page.

I think anyone who puts blood and sweat into making something can empathize with simultaneously loving and hating what you're creating. There are so many parts of the process of making something new that I love, and yet what I end up with is never what I see in my head. There are always compromises, my skills aren't what I'd like them to be, and I always have to work just with what I have on hand (or wait and see what I'll have tomorrow). The trick for me is finding some way to stop at a point that I like. And then I move on and try again. Or try something else.

I've put about 20-25 hours of fairly strenuous labor into this triceratops head. I wasn't sure where I was on the love/hate continuum with it yesterday: something about it just bugged me and I couldn't let it go. I figured out what I wanted to do overnight and was fortunate to be able to put in another hour today making it happen. It's still not what I see in my head, but I'm more securely on the "love" side of the see-saw now, so I'm going to call it good and move on. 

This sculpture is mostly made of things I've picked up over the last couple of months. The frill and a lot of the frame for the head are made from a discarded chair I picked out of someone's garbage during my trip to Topsail Island. The nasal horn is from a pickax head I bought for a few bucks when I visited the Museum of Appalachia, as is a plate on the forehead. The sheet metal pieces on the far corners of the fill come from an old seed spreader I bought at an antique store in Charlotte. The cores of the brow horns are legs from a chair I pulled out of a trash pile at my kid's school. The spiral pieces come from some kind of old light fixture that my mom gave me, Some of the brake pads are old (from a previous sculpture I tore apart) and some are "new," donated from the Midas shop in Cayce where we recently spent a small fortune getting our truck fixed. The brake rotor and bearing on the stand as well as some of the sheet metal pieces on the horns are also from that Midas shop. Parts of the mandible, head, and frill were made from parts of an lawnmower that my ever-vigilant neighbor snatched from the curb for me (thanks Chris!). I used burner pans and heating elements scavenged from a couple of electric ranges discarded by an apartment complex I walk by on my way to work. 

This triceratops head is obviously far more elaborate than the first one I constructed.  I've taught myself some tricks as I've built things over the years (in fits and starts), and I've become more confident in my ability to create shapes from scratch. But this still isn't the triceratops head I want to make: it's closer, but it's not there yet.