E is for...

E is for...energy, embroidery, egypt

E is for Egypt.

Egypt is, perhaps, the oldest nation on earth emerging sometime around 3150 BCE with the unification of the Lower and Upper Kingdoms. And Egypt is, of course, in the news right now and rightly so. But it is not modern Egypt that I dream of.

It is ancient Egypt, the Egypt of pharaohs and pyramids, of mummies and temples and scarabs, of stele and hieroglyphics. It is the Egypt of Isis and Ra and the exotic pantheon of gods that captured my attention and fascination. I don't know how old I was, maybe early teens, when I discovered Egypt or even how it came to my attention. Probably through something my father was reading at the time. He had an interest in archeology for a while and I remember reading Gods, Graves and Scholars by C. W. Ceram.

However it came about, my fascination with ancient Egypt blossomed and continues to this day and though I am by no means a scholar on the subject (I have probably forgotten more than I remember), I have read quite a bit about it. Each new archeological discovery rivets my attention once again until the story passes out of the news.

Oh Egypt, strange and familiar, so compelling, it calls to something in me. It is my past buried in the sand. I know those cryptic shapes, have carved them in the stone.

If I ever leave this continent, if I ever cross the ocean, it will not be to the capitals of Europe that I go. It won't be to France or Italy, not to Portugal or Spain or Germany. Not even to wild Russia or Poland.

It is Egypt that beckons.

working through it

Despite the fact that it was in the 60s last weekend, we are now in the middle of another frigid spell and everything that had thawed is now frozen once again. And the weather forecasters telling us it is 20˚ colder than normal for this time of year is not helping! I am tired of being cold. I am tired of winter. They say that spring is only a few days away. We are having another low in the 20s tonight but by the first part of next week our low is supposed to be only in the 50s. Regardless, I am housebound right now.

This is the other thing I have been doing along with some attempts at self promotion besides work on 'the job'. Speaking of which, rumor has it that this last panel came out beautifully. I haven't seen it yet. We were supposed to go in today to set up the first (and only if you don't mind, please) try at the third panel but as I said before, the kiln is outdoors, a protected area, but outdoors all the same and the high today was only going to be in the mid-40s. So I put it off til tomorrow.

I've been working on some waxes, starting the 4” square thick tile series. The three larger pieces I have already finished are sitting, waiting patiently until I am ready to cast them. I have to be mentally ready to cast them besides just having the models finished. Because once the mold is made, the model is lost. I have to have a pretty good idea how I want to cast them...the colors, the density of color, how I think they should be displayed. These are all factors that I have to consider. Meanwhile, I work on other models.

I also have a dilemma about finishing the boxes that have been cast. I need to use a flat lap which I don't have. I've been using the one at a friend's studio but I think the 'environment' has changed some and I am reluctant to keep asking. My other option is to drive to a city several hours away and to rent time on the one at another friend's glass center.

I have finished the first 4” square block and am about 2/3s of the way through the second one. I have no title for these yet, not even a tentative one.

finished

Here's what the second one looked like the last time I took a picture of it.

And I am stuck on the letter E.

poo

learning curve

OK, so this is what I've been doing for the last couple of weeks.

Trying to get this job finished!

warning...tech talk.

I've been cutting the design shapes out of fiber paper in three thicknesses...1/8”, 1/16” and 1/32”. To do this, I use transfer paper to mark the lines of the pieces and cut them out with a hobby knife.

some of the fiber paper shapes (taped to cardboard for transport)

The first panel we did, laid out on thin-fire (a refractory paper that basically turns to dust after it is fired and takes the place of kiln wash which is stuff you paint onto your kiln shelf to keep the glass from sticking to the shelf during firing) had several problems. First it wasn't at high temperature long enough so that it did not slump or fuse completely and had big elongated bubbles around all the design elements. Also, the thin-fire cracked and separated before the glass slumped down enough to touch the surface, leaving impressions of the 'cracks'.

first attempt at first panel after firing

left - thin-fire 'crack' impressions running through the panel; right - funky bubbles

I set up the second panel (also on the thin-fire), we stacked the three sheets of glass and started the kiln after adjusting the firing schedule, a little longer time at a little higher temperature. Then we sat around discussing the process. I guess I had thought that Gene had more experience with this technique than he actually did. He had done three jobs, all the panels smaller than the ones I was doing, and only using two layers of glass (my customer wanted a heavier glass look, hence the three layers). We looked at the sample pieces he had in his shop of the jobs he had done and then he remembered that he had fused his glass together first and then slumped it. Two separate firings and we were trying to do these in one. I suggested we stop the kiln and fuse these panels together first but it was already too hot, would have taken too long for it to cool down enough so we just went ahead. I was concerned that we were using so much of the Bullseye tekta glass which is kind of pricey. My budget on this job, already underpriced, would not allow me to spend all that money. Gene assured me he could re-use the glass and I would only have to pay for the glass one time.

The second panel came out much better. It fused and slumped completely but still had the thin-fire 'cracks' and the bubbles around the elements which were smaller and round this time. I was ready to re-do the first panel, having cut out all the shapes again (the fiber paper can only be fired once) and Gene had already fused the blank, only this time we decided to not use the thin-fire and slump on the kiln washed shelf.

second attempt at panel 1 with pre-fused blank

Unfortunately this is becoming a rather steep learning curve. We started the firing right in the middle of that really cold weather and Gene's kilns are in an enclosed outdoor area. Apparently, the panel cracked on the way up (a combination of the cold weather and heating it up too fast) and fused back together leaving several jagged crack lines in the finished piece. Sheesh! Other than that, it came out great. No funky bubbles lining the design elements, no thin-fire crack marks.

jagged crack lines running through second attempt at panel 1

So yesterday, the re-do of the second panel went into the kiln. Gene slowed down the firing schedule so hopefully this one will come out right and we can proceed to the others.

second attempt at panel 2 with pre-fused blank

I think if I do this technique again, I will use plate glass even though it does have that greenish/blueish cast to it but it is so much more affordable. Of course, we'll have to go through another learning curve with a different glass, but surely it won't be as steep.

seen at the country house

I was standing at the work table in the big room looking out the open back door...yes, that was me complaining about the freezing weather here last week and yes, two days later it was in the upper 60s and I had the doors and windows open...and I noticed the cat sitting outside watching some thing on the ground and every now and then giving it a tentative whack with her paw. So, OK, I thought, what little creature is she terrorizing now, and I walked out to see what it was and if it needed rescuing.

Curled up at her feet was a small snake (I say small, it was about 18” long I think), head up and mouth open. The first thing I did was grab up the cat and throw her inside. The next thing I did was try to identify the snake. It was dark brown and light brown and had a distinctive pattern. We have harmless rat snakes that are two tone brown and I've seen several of those around here. I was trying to remember what my sister had told me about poisonous snakes in Texas, that there are really only four different kinds..rattlesnakes, water moccasins (also known as cottonmouths), coral snakes and copperheads...and that the easiest way to determine if it is one of those is to look at the shape of it's head, that all the poisonous snakes in Texas have spade shaped heads.

'Hey Marc, does this look like a spade shaped head to you?' I called out as I was zeroing in with the macro on my camera. 'You think this is a rat snake or a copperhead?'

A quick look in the 50 Common Reptiles And Amphibians was inconclusive. On to a google image search. 'Oh,' he says, 'it might be a copperhead.' Um, yep. I'd say it's a copperhead all right.

I didn't want to kill it. I had felt really guilty about killing the 2' coral snake two years ago and copperheads have the least toxic venom of the venomous snakes, so I grabbed up a small bucket and a piece of cardboard and a stick and maneuvered it into the bucket and carted it to the far side of my neighbor's property and let it go in the wild space.

And where exactly was this snake? Where I have found almost every snake I have seen out here...about 10' from my back door.

* Well now, upon further investigation it might not have been copperhead after all, perhaps just a harmless rat snake. The markings were pretty irregular instead of the distinct 'hourglass' shape that copperheads have. These two snakes are often confused.

* OK, definitely a rat snake. A rat snake has round pupils and a copperhead has elliptical pupils like a cat's.

resting on my laurels

I have a couple of honors to recognize...

First, last Wednesday Hilary of The Smitten Image, who does a feature every week called Post Of The Week in which she recommends half a dozen or so posts, selected my post 'D is for...' for the top spot. If you don't know Hilary's blog you really must go visit. She has an incredible eye and her nature photos, and most especially her bird photos, are just amazing. Thanks Hilary, for selecting my post last week and for your beautiful photographs.

Another blog that is new to me, Everyday Goddess, also does a similar feature called Toasting The Posts Of The Week. I was browsing around and popped into her place yesterday and was stunned to see that my post 'ice, ice baby' was among her list. Thank you Everyday Goddess.

As long as I'm sending people on to other blogs, here's a few more you should go visit if you don't already know them.

Fireblossom at Shay's Word Garden has been my little secret since I first stumbled on her. She writes poems that are really stories and constantly blows me away. She's getting discovered now and my measly comments sometimes get lost in the hurrahs. Not that I'm jealous or anything.

I've recommended John Kurman's blog Random Walks before when he was first getting started. It's still one of my favorites. That said, I'm not really sure how to categorize his blog. He's an intellectual type who teaches sculpture at an Illinois university. And he's not shy.

Cynthia (her name and her blog's name) is a glass artist and computer techie nerd and gear head who shares everything she knows. And she comes up with the greatest human stories. I swear she makes some of them up. Like this one.

I know, I know. I'm supposed to be getting people to come to my blog, not send them away but it's still frozen out there and I've promised myself that I would work in the studio on my waxes all weekend so you're getting nothing new from me.

ice, ice baby

I've refrained from writing about how cold it is because as these things go it's not nearly as cold here as most of the country is experiencing and I don't want to appear to be a whiner but I've had about enough of this frigid weather now, thank you very much.

water collector

It's not bad enough that we're experiencing a week and more of temperatures ranging from nighttime 20s to daytime 30s but now they are saying we will get snow and sleet tonight, that there should be snow on the ground when we wake up. That it's already up there in the sky falling only it's not making it to the ground yet. I go out and look up and don't see anything. It's not raining so I don't know what happens to it. Gets blown to Timbuktu I guess.

birdbath

Tap, tap, tap. Excuse me. Mister? It snowed last winter. And the winter before. Snowing two years in a row doesn't happen. Has not happened ever before. And now you are telling me we are going to have snow three years in a row? I'm sorry, but that was not in the contract. I agreed to endure miserably hot summers in exchange for mild winters.

water plant tub 1

It only snows down here about every five years or so, or that used to be our weather pattern. I'm beginning to see how those mammoths got trapped in ice with the contents of lunch still in their stomachs. That noise I hear at night may not be the freight train that passes by but the sound of the approaching glacier.

water plant tub 2

Everything that has water in it is frozen except for the turtle pond. The recirculating pump and filter is enough movement, I guess, to keep it from freezing, or maybe it's the sheer volume of water. The water barrel..ice. The tubs with my water plants...ice. The bird bath...ice. Fortunately for the birds they can stand on the island in the turtle pond and get water. In the grand tradition of closing the barn door after the cows have escaped, I went out today and wrapped the three exposed pipes to the outdoor faucets. This was after two nights of temps in the 20s but a broken pipe at my sister's house decided me not to tempt the gods further.

my frozen daffodils

I'm guessing I was a little premature with the roses.

D is for...

D is for...dumb, drugs, dance

D is for dance...

You might remember my post about dancing and the heavenly waltz. I love to dance and I especially love to partner dance. I like to do the swing or jitterbug but you need a really good partner for that. A polka is fun and I really like to dance with those Cajuns and the waltz is one of my favorites but if I could do the tango with Antonio Banderas? Yeah, I think that would do it for me. Not that I can do the tango.

Coming of age in the time of free style where you really don't need a partner even though you ostensibly have one, partner dancing soon became a lost art. No one does it anymore. What passes for partner dancing now is clinging to one another and shuffling your feet around during the slow songs and that's really too bad. As I told one of the boy kids of one of the cousins at one of the many weddings, 'if you want to get the girls, learn how to partner dance'.

Of course, when it was my time to learn how to do that very thing, I was mortified to have to participate. Back when, as the saying goes, the young men and young ladies were instructed in the fine art of ballroom dancing. We were signed up about the age of 13 reluctantly or protestingly to further the social education befitting us.

Once a week we were herded into a big room, girls on one side and boys on the other as these things always sorted themselves out. Demonstrations were given and then we were instructed to get a partner and practice. I hated this slow torture, waiting to get picked when the boys had to pick partners though I didn't like it much better when we girls had to pick. It was just another version of gym class. The popular kids always went for each other leaving the rest of us to fumble our way through. At least I wasn't last. Skinny, curly hair, shy, always near the end but not last.

It wasn't just the dance lessons. We also joined 'dance clubs'. They had three or maybe four dances a year and everyone would go. The girls would all hang out on one side and the boys would congregate on the other. Some kids would dance but mostly we would just hang out, us girls waiting to be asked, because in 1964, '65 that's the way it worked. No one ever asked me to dance at these events starting a pattern that would last well into adulthood going to clubs with my girlfriends. But that's another story.

These dance clubs were just for junior high school kids and the last dance before you went to high school was a formal. And of course at a formal dance, you had to have a date or an 'escort' as some of us weren't allowed to 'date' yet. I was excited and scared about going. I had to ask a boy, or be asked but that didn't look like it was going to happen. I finally got up my courage and stuttered out my request to a boy I sort of secretly liked. I had one class with him. Of course, he had his own social group and already had a date. I was totally embarrassed and there was no way I was going through that again.

I really wanted to go to the dance though and time was getting short. I don't know where the idea came from. Probably my mother. My parents' best friends had a son a year older than I and our families hung out together a lot. He was 16, he was very cute in a Ricky Nelson kind of way and we were friends of a sort. And so assured that he would not turn me down, I called him up and asked him if he would take me to this dance. Which, of course, he did. I had a good time receiving the looks of disbelief on the girls faces, he was very attentive and when he brought me home he gave me a kiss.

Now that I think about it that might have been my first kiss by a boy that was not a relative. I might have kissed the paper boy though but I can't remember.

Going to that dance was one of my few small triumphs in junior high school. Not a part of the in crowd or popular group and not a part of the obvious out crowd either, I sort navigated between. But wasn't I the center of attention by all the cool girls who wanted to know who that was I was with at the dance and was he my boyfriend. I said as little as possible and just smiled knowingly. It was an easy fiction to maintain as school was almost out for the summer and as it happened, our families spent a lot of time at our beach house so I saw a lot of Chico that summer and the next. But we were really ever only friends. And that was better I think.

*photo - my 15 year old self and first official 'date' at my first 'formal'.

check out those gloves!