02/29/12

Puff, puff

Pan’s still at the ‘nearly done’ stage. I realised the hands were too big and made a whole new smaller one as a trial. But that didn’t work, as while it was then the right size for his arms, it was noticeably too small in proportion to his head. I think his elongated shape puts all the proportions a bit out of whack. After some mucking around, I’ve decided the best solution is to just slightly shorten the hands, but more importantly, make them narrower so that they don’t splay out, as the width more than the length makes them look too big. Which is fiddly and time-consuming, but still faster — I think — than making them again from scratch.

I’m now better at moulding fur, which has left me with some quite realistic patches on his legs, and some more abstract. I need to make a choice or find a happy medium.

Unable to find a nice rock, I went back to the rock made out of soft wax, gave it a more interesting shape, and pressed lumps of rough broken concrete (lots of that around) into it for texture. I think the effect works, but I’m afraid the rock is fighting with the figure, so I’m wondering about just making a little round or square platform under his hoof, as he’s going to be on a marble block or something like that anyway.

I’m spending a lot of time on this, but I’ve been learning as I go, so hopefully the next figure won’t take as long.

02/24/12

Hair of the god

I have ideas about finishing Pan this weekend — well, apart from the rock, which will have to wait until I find the right rock. He’s so nearly done. The only really tricky thing left is attaching the hands. I plan to superglue them to toothpicks, and insert the toothpicks into the arms, cutting the armature short to make room. It should offer fewer opportunities for Mr Cockup than gluing the hands directly onto the armature wire.

I’ve spent quite a bit of time remodeling the torso, trying to give it more twist and some naturalism in the muscles. And I’ve kind of done half the hair. I wish I didn’t like hair so much, as it’s fiddly to make. I’m not very satisfied with my efforts yet. Next time I’ll make Yul Brynner!

02/19/12

Middleton’s Rouseabout

I’m going to be 40 soon and am practising my crustiness. I’m still a novice, but give it time.

I’ve decided to stop reading The Age. Just about every week there’s something in that paper about how they’re wrecking or planning to further wreck Melbourne, and I get too upset.

I’m afraid Australia is an adolescent country that has chosen not to grow up. It has chosen to believe, and to take pride in believing, that money is the only thing that matters, and football the only other thing. If the rest of the world has an image of us as ugly, limited characters, hooligans no matter how rich we are, we have ourselves to blame.

Australia has big tits — enormous wealth in the ground. As long as we can dig, as long as there’s a buyer, as long as the Spice flows, we don’t have to learn to do anything else. And we can squat here, as we have squatted for two centuries — as if Australia were a toilet — aspiring to the level of Middleton’s Rouseabout:

Tall and freckled and sandy, 
 Face of a country lout; 
This was the picture of Andy, 
 Middleton's Rouseabout. 

Type of a coming nation, 
 In the land of cattle and sheep, 
Worked on Middleton's station, 
 'Pound a week and his keep.' 

On Middleton's wide dominions 
 Plied the stockwhip and shears; 
Hadn't any opinions, 
 Hadn't any 'idears'. 

Swiftly the years went over, 
 Liquor and drought prevailed; 
Middleton went as a drover, 
 After his station had failed. 

Type of a careless nation, 
 Men who are soon played out, 
Middleton was: — and his station 
 Was bought by the Rouseabout. 

Flourishing beard and sandy, 
 Tall and robust and stout; 
This is the picture of Andy, 
 Middleton's Rouseabout. 

Now on his own dominions 
 Works with his overseers; 
Hasn't any opinions, 
 Hasn't any 'idears'.

- Henry Lawson, 1890

02/15/12

Dim Sim pics

Taken through a window. DS demonstrating levels of inactivity. I went to the nearest vet I could find. No missing cat notice there, nor at the (much closer) pet food shop. TSPCA not answering phones. Will email. On the one hand I’m starting to think I shouldn’t worry so much — he’s obviously good at looking after himself, or getting people to look after him. On the other hand, he’s so domesticated and keen to come indoors that the possibility of him being a lost or abandoned indoor cat is bothering me quite a bit.

(ETA – just realised his collar’s gone again! He did have it early this morning. Will I get a call, I wonder?)

02/14/12

The inspiring Prince Dado Ruspoli

Yesterday I happened to turn on the TV and there was actually something interesting on, a documentary about the jetset of the 60s. I looked up one or two names, and happened across Prince Dado Ruspoli (obituary here), one of the few playboys of that era who didn’t die young. Quite a guy…

On opium and heroin (“the difference between ritual and suicide”)

Moments with Papa Dado 1 & 2

02/13/12

Back to Dim Sim

I finally sent him out with a new collar and a more comprehensive letter attached. The delay was due to the fact that he got underfoot, I accidentally stepped on him, and he bit me — not a bad bite, but it drew blood, and when I toddled down to get a tetanus shot they told me I had to get rabies shots, observe the cat, and avoid being bitten for 7 days, or I’d have to have yet more shots. Then it took me a while to write the Thai letter. But it’s done now.

The people next door are also feeding him, but they and I feel bad, as he’s fighting with the cat that’s cared for by the people on the other side. (That was the other one that was meowing at me — maybe it was telling me that it didn’t like Dim Sim moving in on its turf!) We haven’t seen so much of that cat lately, so if he’s taken the whole street from her I feel pretty lousy.

DS remains supremely confident around people. So much so that I’m starting to think of him as Dark Schneider. Maybe Schneider is in the body of this cat.

If he’s around, he follows me halfway down the street when I go out. If I let him inside, he’s right onto the furniture, kneadin’ and chillin’. (I haven’t let him in for a few days, except to collar him.) He’ll try to score tinned cat food before settling for dry. He sidles around legs and rolls over for tummy rubs when you pat him. I will eat my hat if he isn’t someone’s pet, either lost or into territorial expansion.

Because of the issue with the other cat, I think I’m going to have to move him on. If the note garners a call from an owner, I’ll stop feeding him. If it doesn’t, I’ll call the TSPCA and see if he matches any missing cat reports.

ETA: Actually, I’ve thought of a place away from the house where I could probably feed him. We’ve seen him in this place before. People hang out there, other cats probably hang out there; it’s kind of a neutral space (I think!)

02/10/12

Julie D’Aubigny, badass

How come I’ve never heard of this woman until now?

http://badassoftheweek.com/lamaupin.html

02/4/12

Pan – home stretch

Crap photos, but here he is with head and hands. The hands are sitting on top of his arms because they’ll be cast separately and I have no way to attach them right now.

I still need to make the pipes, and his ears, horns and hair, mould his forearms and do a few little things here and there around his body — which isn’t as much as it sounds, though the hair could be fiddly. I’ve done a trial run of moulding the pipes around toothpicks, and it seems to work.

Right now he’s got a couple of Shiva-esque flying locks of hair. I’m quite tempted to mould them properly over wire and keep them.

And I need to get a rock. My teacher said it’s much better to find a rock than try to make your own. You get a rock, then put a bit of wax on it to make it look less exactly like a real rock, and presto, you have a nice rock with minimal hassle.

He has bits of armature sticking out of him, but I can fix that in the next stage.