Monday, December 10, 2012

08 Joint Design Nº 33

Art & fear. Bayles. pp.30-31

...to require perfection is to invite paralysis. The pattern is predictable: as you see error in what you have done, you steer your work toward what you imagine you can do perfectly. You cling ever more tightly to what you already know you can do – away from risk and exploration, and possibly further from the work of your heart. You find reasons to procrastinate, since to /not/ work is to not make mistakes. Believing that artwork should be perfect, you gradually become convinced that you cannot make such work. (You are correct.) Sooner or later, since you cannot do what you are trying to do, you quit. And in one of those perverse little ironies of life, only the pattern itself achieves perfection – a perfect death spiral: you misdirect your work; you stall; you quit.

To demand perfection is to deny your ordinary (and universal) humanity, as though you would be better off without it. Yet this humanity is the ultimate source of your work; your perfectionism denies you the very thing you need to get your work done. Getting on with your work requires a recognition that perfection itself is (paradoxically) a flawed concept. .... Such imperfections (or /mistakes/, if you’re feeling particularly depressed about them today) are your guides – valuable, reliable, objective, non-judgmental guides – to matters you need to reconsider or develop further. It is precisely this interaction between the ideal and the real that locks your art into the real world, and gives meaning to both.





I brushed the matte board with orange shellac to seal it. I bought some really cheap (5 for $1.99/pkg) small brushes at Michaels for painting shellac. They were the cheapest ones I could find. I decided to empty the can of orange shellac into a jar, so I could SEE it when I stirred it. Shellac brushes are cleaned with denatured alcohol and warm water and soap. Click on any image to enlarge it.






Oh look !!! I put some Roma oil-clay around the plastic cup supporting the ping-ping ball in the matte board.






This time, I remembered to paint the matte board build-up with a parting agent made from a 50/50 solution of liquid soap and water. Notice that the same steps are used over and over again. This is how the craft is done, day after day, week after week, month after month, year after year. if you (Dear Reader) were wondering about the Glamour of making Art, keep reading.






After the parting agent is applied, and has dried (how poetic), place the coddles around the build-up and clamp them. I seal the bottom of the coddles with oil-clay. Roll out a coil of clay and press it into place around the bottom of the coddles. It isn't as much a skill, as it is just one of those things you just do, every time you make a mold. For certain things you just develop habits.






Oh yeah. The overhead shot of the mold-in-progress.






Weigh the water. Weigh the plaster. 2 parts water to 3 parts plaster by weight. Always add plaster to water. Never put plaster (dry, set, or wet) down the drain. I turned ON the mold-table vibrator for this pour.






After pouring the plaster, I turned off the vibrator, then left the mold for supper and a movie (we watched Blade Runner (1982), with Harrison Ford). After the movie, I came down to the studio and took the mold out of the coddles. It looks good, so far.






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