Friday, September 25, 2009

The three season studio

This was my garden shed; an underutilized, ignored, and unloved little building at the back of my yard.

The interior was merely studs, held together by a composition of spiderwebs and stinkbug carcasses. It was dirty, grimy, and generally an unpleasant place to visit

I had always wanted to create an semi-outdoor space which would provide a refuge, a delightful respite from the world, a secret hide-out, and this shed became the likely candidate.

The first step was to sweep it out to see what I was dealing with.

Next came the construction (on the cheap) which included running electricity to the shed, putting in walls, ceiling, wainscoting, framing and installing a third window, shelves, track lighting, and carpet.

The result is very satisfying:

Behold the three-season studio. A place where drawings are made, reading is done, toy soldiers cavort, and the stars appear to shine in; unimpeded by pedestrian considerations like ceilings.

On the counter, Confederates ravage the countryside.

On the walls, Frederick Ray illustrations which I purchased as a nine-year old finally get a frame and their due.

The skull collection sits in repose against a frosted window.

My drawing board and table (made with mahogany scraps left by the guy we bought the house from) wait for an inked pen.

Three windows and track lighting make for a very light, airy, and happy space (not to mention the starlight!).

A very recent addition includes these matched cast-iron cannons, standing sentinel at the door, a gift from the neighbors (another Navy veteran, come to find out).

That chair, never a good fit in the house, seems made to order out here. This is where I do most of my reading for class.

Enjoying my secret hideout, while burning the midnight oil, north of Boonsboro.


Thursday, September 24, 2009

Like Rip Van Winkle

[a sculpture I made 20 years ago]

I think I feel like Rip Van Winkle did upon waking from his 40 year slumber in the forest. Like Rip, I feel like I've been gone for awhile, it's a little discombobulating.

Unlike Rip I don't have moss in my hair, birds in my beard, and a moldy hat.

No toadstools growing out of my rifle stock (no rifle for that matter)...

nor vines sprouting around me.

Its good to have patient friends waiting for you when you return from a very long, very fitful sleep.

I think I'd like to stay up for awhile.

Tuesday, September 22, 2009