box

I was recently commissioned by an artist to make an A3 clam shell box. Embossed on the front with the title '19 Minutes of History' it holds a piece of work looking at Obama's inaugural address...


I think this picture (copyright Sam Knott) gives a good idea of how the finished piece worked (click to enlarge!) I wish I got to see it in person :)


The making of the box was a challenge as it always is when making something for somebody else. I always hope my expectations of how a piece should look are the same as theirs, but it's always a relief when the response to a work (especially one that is commissioned via email without the commissioner seeing my work in person) is positive! And I was pleased with how this box turned out, just the right amount of space between box and lid, not too flappy or too tight, nice neat corners and no wrinkles on the lining, in fact I quite wanted to keep it myself...


Here's a close up of the test piece for the emboss on the front...


As this box was needed for quite a tight deadline, instead of etching a copper plate to emboss the text (like this one) which is quite time consuming, I tried out just embossing with a piece of thick card and then photo mounting the printed text into the recess and I'm really pleased with the result. Quick, easy (as long as it lines up right...) cheap, better for the environment (no wasted copper) and looks good too :)

I'm hoping to try out more embossing techniques soon; the woodwork department at work is getting a lasercutter and I have high hopes for lasercut embossing plates...

found it

It's raining outside but it's been very sunny. Sunny enough to turn a little white seed into this...


And after yet another shift around of boxes (maybe even the last shift around before they can be unpacked for good at last) I found my camera lead...

All the photos I found on it seem like they were taken oh so long ago. And in a way they were, so much seems to have happened in the last few months.

My good friend Roger died. I can't put it into words. So I've just been carrying on; today I lining papererd the stairs.

lead

I've really been missing posting here. I've still been taking pictures of the things I've been making, doing, seeing, but I can't find my camera lead to upload them. And it's not the same without images is it... I miss sharing the pictures here, the process of sorting through, looking again at the books and boxes I've made, the experiments, details, seeds planted. Gathering my thoughts and writing them down. There's something about this process that I find so useful, both in the middle of making and afterwards, almost like taking a step away, to look and think about what's been done, what worked, what could be better... the thoughts are never quite concrete in my head, as much as they seem to be, until I think about how to write them down. And if I don't pin them down they slip away. It probably seems obvious...

I've got a clamshell box to show you, A3, with inlayed text. And a set of three stacking trays (which all fit together, and I was very surprised indeed!) A sock elephant and some new soft cover books, not to mention the pea shoots coming up in the garden. As soon as I find the lead for the camera (as soon as I can unpack!) I'll be here...

nearly.

I still haven't unpacked any of the big brown boxes waiting in the attic and cupboards and in creaking piles in the corners of rooms, haven't lifted the dust sheets. So I still haven't found my camera lead and all the photos of the new stove and the tiles in the bathroom are stuck on my camera for now...

I haven't done any sewing or knitting or bookmaking for fun for over a month now. All my time is spoken for, which is good, but pictures are swirling round my head, ideas for books and prints and drawings. Bird feet.

‘Do not indulge in dreams of having what you have not, but reckon up the chief of the blessings you possess and thankfully remember how you would crave them if they were not yours.’

Marcus Aurelius 170AD

It's been a while.

I'm sat in the garden (my garden!) and inside the house a however-many foot long steel pipe is being removed, bit by heavy bit, and a slightly wider (more expensive) pipe is being installed so that tomorrow I may, just may, have a wood burning stove. And the last time I went inside there was a thin layer of dirty black soot over ever surface and I'm expecting it to be slightly thicker the next time I check.

So the dust hasn't gone just quite yet. But it's all good really.

The garden is full of plants. Geraniums and poppys and hydrangeas and forget-me-nots and pansies. All the kind of things that survive the slow neglect of a few years in the garden of an empty house. All the tiny flowerbeds and pathways and stones overgrown with dandelions and violets and unidentified orange flowers. Bricks and concrete. Sycamore trees.

I met the man who found the old lady when she died in this house. I hope she'd like us.

Hopefully all the dust will disappear soon.