Category: Dragonflies

Sculpture Gallery Updated

6/11/2017

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.

"Afterburner" reopening . . . once again I only remembered to take about four photos.

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.

My newly-rearranged work space, now with record player (center back wall).

If you're interested in keeping up with what I'm working on, consider following the Zero Point Mechanic page on Facebook.

"Afterburner:" Extended and Augmented

5/26/2017

I'm happy to announce that my solo sculpture exhibit at Tapp's Arts Center has been extended through June 23, 2017. There will be a "re-opening" on June 1 at 6:00, hopefully without the severe weather that accompanied the first opening in May. Here is the event on Facebook if you're interested and in the area.

Since the semester ended (I'm on a 9-month contract with the University), I've had the luxury of taking a step back from the day-to-day grind of the academic world and spending more time in my garage. The results of that are that: (a) I'm in a better mood; and (b) I've finished several new pieces that will be added to the show. Some of the new stuff will be for sale and some will not. There are few pictures of some of the new pieces in my last blog post. Here are a few more:

"Diamond."

"The Last of the V8 Interceptors."

"Grace" being hoisted. I wanted to make sure I could use my crane to lift her 3' off the ground so we could get her into the bed of a pickup.

My short-term plan has been to "use down" my stock of material so that I have an excuse to finally visit the local scrap yard (there are several particular things I want that I'll probably never find on the curb). While all of my recent work has used up a lot of stuff, however, I keep accumulating. I'm at a point where what I'm making is significantly affected by what I'm hauling home on a day-to-day basis -- it's fun, but I'm afraid it isn't making much of a dent in the amount of stuff I have on hand. Grace and several other pieces still have to stay out of the weather until I decide what, if anything, I want to put on them to protect them, so it's getting pretty cozy in there. Someday, perhaps, I'll have a larger space and I'll fondly remember the time I spent sweating my ass off in a tiny garage trying to find a horizontal surface on which to set my beer on that wasn't covered in scrap metal or rat crap.

There are several days until I deliver the new pieces to Tapp's. I'm going to have some flexibility during that time. I may produce a few more things, or I may just sleep a lot. Maybe I'll manage to do both.

Travel Diaries: One of Those Days (in the Carolina Piedmont)

7/13/2016

Day Three of my Carolina Junket was one of "those" days: wrong turns, locked doors, and a quantity of frowns matched only by the abundance of miles that I drove. The North Carolina piedmont just wasn't that warm and fuzzy. I'll keep this post short in an effort to keep it from being too much of a downer. Let's just go with mostly pictures.

The Dragonflies of Wilmington

On the way out of Wilmington, I stopped at the Battleship North Carolina to finish my coffee. I had a lot of miles I wanted to cover, so I didn't actually take the tour. I took some photos of the dragonflies in the park, tried to avoid stepping in goose crap, and had a look at the outside of the ship. If you've never seen a World War II era battleship . . . it's pretty impressive. It's a porcupine with guns instead of quills.

The North Carolina.

I think this is an Eastern Pondhawk (Erythemis simplicicollis). Females and juvenile males look the same. Adult males are a dusty blue. (Wilmington, North Carolina.)

I don't yet know what species this is. It was of medium size and fluttered in flight. (Wilmington, North Carolina.)

You're not an alligator. I'm not scared of you.

The North Carolina Piedmont

Driving from Wilmington to Charlotte takes you across the flat coastal plain and into the Carolina Piedmont, the worn down foothills of the Appalachian Mountains. The main artery is US 74/I-74, which in some places is labeled "Andrew Jackson Highway" and in others "American Indian Highway." I'm sure there is a story somewhere there, but I'm too tired to investigate right now.

Traveling through the Piedmont was a little bizarre for me. In some ways, it feels strangely homologous to the oh-so-familiar Midwest. There is a feeling of rural depression, where shifting economic demography has left so many towns, so many businesses, and so many homes in a sad state of decay. Where there is shininess, it manifests in the form of scattered McMansions and a veneer of chain stores and fast food restaurants. The towns I drove through reminded me of the northeastern Ohio towns of my childhood.

While the built landscape seemed familiar, however, the vibe did not. Places were closed, some people were rude (I'm looking at you, lady in the Albemarle McDonald's), and I just didn't feel the love. I'll try not to judge, but geez . . . the Piedmont was buzzkill. It seemed like "home," yet it felt like I was traveling through enemy territory. Strange.

The museum in Ellerbe that has an exhibit about Andre the Giant (he had a ranch nearby until his death) was closed.

I tried to buy some concrete statuary for my family. I walked around, I called out "hello!?" multiple times, but no-one ever showed up to take my money. Whatever.

This place looked pretty cool. It was closed.

Some Free Advice for Aviation Museums

I want to preface this section by saying that I support all efforts to preserve aviation history and tell the stories of that history to the public. I like air museums. I go to every one that I can. I've seen many.

I visited the Carolinas Aviation Museum in Charlotte. They have some interesting aircraft on display (some are unique), and there are a lot of staff on hand to answer questions. Those are the good things. Here are a few ways that the museum could be improved (I'm not picking on just this museum, these are common issues):

How does the F-14 end? Who knows . . . it just fades off into the eerie. At least we can be sure the tail isn't covered with a velvet painting of dogs playing pool, as surely the blacklight would have illuminated that. In the foreground is a torpedo-carrying anti-submarine drone from the 1960's. This is an unusual aircraft which I had never seen before. It would have been nice to see the whole thing.

Lose the Mood Lighting. For some reason, some museums choose to keep their display space relatively dark and use dramatic colored, directed lighting to illuminate the aircraft (the Kalamazoo Air Zoo does the same thing). I'm not sure what the rationale is, but I know that I'd much rather be able to actual see the aircraft in a normal white light. I want to see the scratches and the rivets and the details, not imagine the airplane is in the "Thriller" video. As long as we're shining purple lights on the planes, why not plug in a smoke machine and play "Kashmir"? I just don't get it. Turn the real lights on, please.

Fun Fact: the JT8D was a turbofan engine, not a turbojet engine. The distinction is relevant to the whole purpose of the display. Turbofan engines pass part of the air that is ducted into the engine rearward outside of the combustion stream. This results in lower exit velocities and lower noise. This is why it's important to commercial aviation.

Get the Facts Right. I'm probably at least slightly above average in terms of my knowledge of aviation history. I actually read the information that's provided about the aircraft I'm interested in, and it bugs me when I see something that I know isn't right (it makes me ask how much of the other information is also incorrect). Do some fact-checking, please!

Not only was I unable to see this Regulus missile as closely as I would like, but I was unable to capture the Pokemon that was dancing around the carriage. That's a joke, because I don't do the Pokemon Go, and I don't ever plan to.

Put Stuff Where I Can See it. I understand that there's never as much space as you want, and some aircraft are very large. The centerpiece of the Carolinas Aviation Museum display is the Airbus that was successfully crash-landed in the Hudson River. It's a great display (with lots of interpretive information), but the Airbus is huge. Putting it in the center means that all the other aircraft are arranged around it and you can't actually walk all the way around them. And some (rare early Cold War aircraft such as an F-102, an F-101, and a Regulus cruise missile) are displayed outside, hundreds of feet away from where you're allowed to be. That kind of sucks. There's a pedestrian Cessna indoors, but we keep a fascinating example of early nuclear cruise missile technology outside where I have to use my zoom lens to get a decent look at it?

That's it for my griping. I'm going to get a decent night of sleep and have a big smile on my face again for tomorrow. You're going to love me, North Carolina Piedmont, I swear!

My Dragonfly Sculpture

6/12/2016

Dragonflies are my favorite insects: I watch them, read about them, and attempt to photograph them when opportunities present themselves (you can see some of my Michigan dragonfly photos here; some from South Carolina are here). I started my dragonfly sculpture in Ann Arbor right after I finished the triceratops. I actually made this one with the goal of selling it. I thought I had sold it when we moved, but the money didn't materialize until after I had already taken it apart, moved it, and put it back together. The price went up after that, and I ended up keeping it. And now I'm glad I did.

I inherited some motorcycle parts from a friend who was relocating to Kazakhstan (June 2011). I'm not really a fan of creating things from large,ready-shaped "building blocks," but I liked the idea of making an insect out of the gas tank because I liked the sleekness and the muscular shape. The chrome on the exhaust was nice, also. This photo shows the gas tank lying upside down. I used a piece of auto exhaust pipe to join the motorcyle exhaust to a heavy piece of auto something-or-other that I would use to attach the head.

I started building the head by trying to get the profile shape I wanted. The green piece is another motorcycle part (tail light assembly?). The gray is a piece of a satellite dish (parts of which I also used in Eileen). The angle at the bottom is formed by a piece of garage door hardware.

There were several unsuccessful attempts at making the eyes. I tried pieces of hubcap, then builing them up from pieces of wire and bicycle chain. Those both looked terrible. Eventually I ended up forming them from odd pieces, focusing on the overall shape instead of being clever. I like the way they turned out.

Head attached to body (July 2011). I have also added the centers of three bicycle wheels to serve as attachment points for the legs.

Frames for wings attached to body (July 2011). I didn't want to attach the wings directly to the gas tank because I didn't know if the steel would be strong enough to support them rigidly in place. So I used a piece of steel bar that I scavenged from a bulletin board discarded outside my daughter's elementary school to build a foundation for attaching them. I arched it over the back and welded it to the head and the base of the "tail." All four wings are welded to a plate that bolts on. I had to buy the steel rod for making the frames for the wings.

This photo shows the dragonfly after it tipped over the crane and fell on me (August 2011). I had to have the boom fully extended to position the dragonfly over the stand, and I neglected to put the pins in the legs of the crane, thinking it wouldn't matter because "it's not that heavy." The alert observer will notice a motorcycle parked in the foreground and a brachiosaurus being built in the background. This is a fertile, cluttered environment that makes it difficult to find space to extend the legs of one's shop crane.

I made a stand from a bunch of old pipe (found on the curb), pieces of steel signpost, and some kind of wheel hub from a truck. It had to be heavy and stable to support all the weight and not tip over in a wind. This photo shows the dragonfly being safely hoisted into place above the stand so that I could start to figure out the legs and feet. I've added a few of the internal pieces to the wings - made from pieces of a steel rack/shelf (also a curb find) and parts of a wire patio planter (a gift from my brother-in-law) (August 2011).

The results of a stroller walk of several miles to the hardware store: U-bolts for the dragonfly's feet and Twizzlers for my feet (August 2011).

I used pieces of wood from an old drying rack to figure out the length and position of the leg segments (August 2011).

Main pieces of legs attached (September 2011). The legs are pieces of steel from various things: curtain rods, outboard motor drive shaft, etc.

The first time I moved the stand, it broke. So I had to heave it back into the garage to add more supports. This photo shows the whole thing assembled in the garden, finally (October 2011).

Underside of the dragonfly (October 2011).

The artist poses with the dragonfly (October 2011).

Detail of the head (October 2011).

A few months outside have added some patina (January 2012).

South Carolina Dragonflies

8/31/2015

In my first few weeks in Columbia, I've seen numerous dragonflies but have had precious little time to photograph and start learning about them. They seem to be everywhere and are as aggressively unafraid of me as the plants in my yard, which threaten to take over the place if not trimmed every other day. Moving here in the summer from Michigan has provided me with a quick lesson in the difference between temperate and sub-tropical biota.

I've sill got a backlog of photographs and corrections to identifications that I haven't added to my first dragonfly page that I started in Michigan. I've seen few dragonflies here that I've recognized off the top of my head, so I though I'd start a new page for South Carolina. I'm not a dragonfly expert but find them fascinating in terms of their behavior (and evolution), and they're great subjects for photography. As with the previous page, please let me know if you see anything that I've misidentified.

I think this is a male blue dasher (Pachydiplax longipennis). Columbia, SC, August 2015.

I think this is a female blue dasher (Pachydiplax longipennis). It was in our backyard for several days, often perching in the same spot. Columbia, SC, August 2015.

I think this is a female eastern pondhawk (Erythemis simplicicollis). Columbia, SC, August 2015.

Male common whitetail (Plathemis lydia), Columbia, SC, August 2015.

Male blue dasher (Pachydiplax longipennis), Columbia, SC, August 2015.

Male blue dasher (Pachydiplax longipennis), Columbia, SC, September 2015.

Dragonflies

5/28/2015

This post has nothing to do with archaeology, anthropology, or giants.

Well, that's probably not true. As a fan of complexity science, I have learned never to assume that different phenomena or domains of inquiry are not somehow related. So I can't explain exactly if and how I will eventually incorporate dragonflies into my work, but I shouldn't say that I won't. Because I probably will. Because they're awesome. Anyway, it's my blog and I'll write about whatever I want.

White-faced meadowhawk (Sympetrum obtrusum), adult male. Battle Creek, MI, August 2014.

Common whitetail (Plathemis lydia), adult male. Ann Arbor, MI, May 2015.

I have loved dragonflies since I was a little kid. I grew up on a farm that had a ditch running through it (I used to think it was a creek, but now I know it was a ditch), and I remember very clearly trying to catch dragonflies using whatever means possible. I would try to grab them. I would throw stuff at them. I would try to knock them out of the air with water. If you've ever spent any time watching them, you'll appreciate their agility - they can turn on a dime in flight and go from traveling at blurrying speed to a dead stop in what seems like an instant. They're remarkable to observe and very tough to catch. They were not in much danger from me. I only remember one time where I successfully got my hands on one. It quickly bit me and I quickly let it go.

Over the past year or so, I have re-kindled my love affair with dragonflies and have taken to trying to photograph them. Noticing the small pieces of the world comes naturally when you go for walks with little kids: the slowed pace gives you the opportunity to train your attention on details that you might otherwise gloss over. So the dragonflies have started popping out at me again, and I've started looking for them.

Dragonflies can be tough quarry. I have yet to photograph one in flight - they're just too fast and they move too frequently. When they stop flying, they don't tend to sit still for long and will often quickly zoom off when approached. I've attempted identifications from the few clear, close-up photos I've managed to get, but I'm not an insect person in the sense that I have any professional expertise or training, so it's more-or-less educated guesswork based on the information that's available online and in the book A Field Guide to Insects by Donald J. Borror and Richard E. White. That second author is my uncle, which may also have something to do with my childhood interest in the small world that has now carried over into my adult life.

Of the many fascinating things about dragonflies (did you know they live their lives as predators in two worlds, the first aquatic and the second aerial?), the one that I find the most interesting on a professional level is their variation in coloration. As a group, dragonflies exhibit a bewildering array of colors (produced by both pigments and structural coloration) and I wonder how that variability in color is structured and what explains it. I know that some of it is related to sex (male and female dragonflies of the same species are often different colors - this is most easily noticed while they're mating, which they do a lot), suggesting the colors play a role in identifying and attracting mates. There is also a lot of inter-species variability. Dragonflies have great eyesight and their brains (capable of rapidly calculating and adjusting flight trajectories to intercept their prey in mid-air) must be built to process a lot of information about color. The patterns of coloration exhibited by dragonflies remind me of those we can see in birds and imagine among at least some dinosaurs.

I'm guessing I'll probably use some data about dragonflies in my work someday (along with my data about aircraft and aircraft engines, information I've collected on the evolution of firearms and cameras, data on dinosaur speciations, and who knows what else), but for now I actually like being somewhat ignorant about most of the technical details and just wondering about them and their world. So I'm not planning on wading into the dragonfly literature anytime soon. For now I'll just enjoy watching them.

But if you're a dragonfly person and you see that I've misidentified something, please let me know.

Unidentified. Ann Arbor, MI, May 2015.

Common whitetail (Plathemis lydia), adult female. Ann Arbor, MI, May 2015.

Twelve-spotted skimmer (Libellula pulchella), adult female. I'm basing this ID on the continuous stripe on the sides of the abdomen (as opposed to the spots on the common whitetail). Ann Arbor, MI, June 2015.

A common whitetail (female) eating a swamp mosquito. Ann Arbor, MI, June 2015. I also took video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rBlvYw8ELFU&feature=youtu.be

Common whitetail in the act of laying eggs (video below). Ann Arbor, MI, June 2015.

I think this is a painted skimmer (Libellula semifasciata), but it's the only one I've seen. The eyes are green, while in the photos of painted skimmers I've found they appear more brown. Ann Arbor, MI, June 2015.

Close-up of what I think is a painted skimmer. Ann Arbor, MI, June 2015.

Painted turtles and a common whitetail. Ann Arbor, MI, June 2015.

Widow skimmer (Libellula luctuosa), adult female. Ann Arbor, MI, June 2015.

I think this is an immature meadowhawk (Sympetrum sp.). I saw two of them, relatively small and flying weakly in the short grass. Ann Arbor, MI, June 2015.

Another immature meadowhawk (Sympetrum sp.). I came across a section of grass/brush today (6/10/2015) that had many of these little ones perching in it. Ann Arbor, MI, June 2015.

Pronghorn clubtail (Gomphus graslinellus)? Ann Arbor, MI, June 2015.

This is the best picture I've managed to get so far of the large green darners (Anax junius) that apparently never land. Ann Arbor, MI, June 2015.

Another widow skimmer (Libellula luctuosa), adult female. Ann Arbor, MI, June 2015.

Black saddlebags (Tramea lacerata). Ann Arbor, MI, June 2015.

Black saddlebags close up. Ann Arbor, MI, June 2015.

White-faced meadowhawk (Sympetrum obtrusum), adult male. Ann Arbor, MI, June 2015.

Four-spotted skimmer (Libellula quadrimaculata). DeTour Village, MI, June 2015.

Four-spotted skimmer (Libellula quadrimaculata), DeTour Village, MI, June 2015.

Unidentified. Is this also a four-spotted skimmer? It was in the same habitat, but had green eyes and looked like it was wearing a fur coat. DeTour Village, MI, June 2015.