The Part Where Some Stuff Happens

Several days of staring at the stone delivered nothing in the way of ideas or inspiration. I was just stuck.

So. I got out the tools, and did stuff that needed to be done anyway. Much of that consisted of tapping away at the stone above the cut lines at the base of the sculpture. Breaking the scrap away left me with some shaping, and cleaning up to do. Then I needed to shave down the face of the bulbous section on the lower 'front' side. (see pic #2)  I don't use power tools, and there are some drawbacks to that. There was a considerable amount of material to remove, so I got out the wide point chisel. The point chisel is a pain to use with alabster. Alabaster cuts easily, but it scars easily, also. A 'bruise' appears as a white splotch or stripe along the line that the point chisel cuts. It  can take some serious finishing work to get the bruising out.

 But doing the necessary work, and the follow up has moved the project along. Here's where we were at the beginning of the week.

I had planned to cut into the blue line in the top photo. The idea was to cut deep into the stuff inside the "C"-shaped area, and separate the sort-of pyramid shape on the right side of the second picture into a wing, bifurcating the whole 'back' side of the stone. But I held off on the shaping work, Monday, and instead gave some much needed attention to the surface irregularities all around the boulder. There is a reason that clearing those pits, gouges, and lumpy areas is normally the very first thing to do. By the end of the session, much of the surface material was acceptably smooth, but the 'wing' idea didn't look  as good as I thought. Time to take a long second look, and  maybe change direction.

The Part Where Nothing Happens

The Part Where Nothing Happens

We've been here before. I made the base cut, and started taking care of that overhang. There was a lot of material to remove. Some of it came off with the bow saw; you can see the nice clean-cut faces.




The piece in the middle broke out with a few blows from the point chisel, and was unexpected. That's one nice thing about doing a free-form, abstract work. Losing a big chunk early on doesn't change the plan too much. Sometimes it can actually help the project along.
And, of course, there are problems and concerns. I thought that the thin red band running across the stone would make a nice feature on the finished work. But that thin red layer is soft, and mushy. And the rock is cracked along that soft red line. You can see it continuing up into the stone on the left.





Now, with alabaster, there are cracks, and there are breaks. Cracks are just a feature of the material. Breaks are, well, breaks. The stone could easily split in two, or have a major chunk just fall out. So what to do? I considered just going ahead and trying to split the rock along the crack, or sawing it in two along the line. But that would mean cutting away a good third of this piece. Another consideration is that the material on the top side of the crack in the above picture, and the flat face in the photo below is some really beautiful clear amber stuff.




Splitting or sawing could result in two separate projects, or it could mean that all that clear stuff just ends up as scrap. Either way it's a gamble. Finally I decided to flood the crack with Starbond, and forge ahead. Next was to clean up the rough edges, round out the ragged faces, and get as much of the stone smoothed out as I can. The smoothing out is usually the first thing to do, but this is still more rock than I can lift.

So here is where the project goes into the part where nothing happens. A good part of the job consists of merely staring at the stone. That's what I'm doing.










But I still don't see. It is frustrating. I am still running on very low stamina, not much energy, and little or no inspiration. The work just seems like work, and I feel like I'm trying to boil a gallon of water with a cigarette lighter. I try to keep in mind that some of the best work I did in the past began with weeks of staring at the stone until the lights went on. I am not so confident, now.

F'art class

 "Why did you bring this to school?"

The kid shifted around on the hard chair in the principal's office. He looked at the floor, and did not answer the question.
"Do you know what this thing can do? You can injure someone with it, put out an eye, and leave someone blinded for life. People have been killed with these things."
The kid continued to stare at the floor. "I wasn't going to hurt anyone with it, I just wanted to make a picture."
"You have your pad for that. All you have to do is tell it what you want to see, and it makes it perfect for you. Did you think you could do better?"
The kid felt a spark of anger, and looked up at the principal holding the sharpened rod in her fist. "All the kids have perfect pad pictures of perfect dogs and cats," he said. "I wanted one that I made myself. I don't care if it isn't perfect."
The principal replied, "You can do that at home on your own time. Here at school we do things the right way, so no one gets hurt. What if your picture was better than someone else's? They'd feel bad about themselves, and it would be your fault. You don't want your friends to feel bad, do you?"
The kid's spark of anger kindled into a flame. "I don't have any friends here, and I don't care if the other kids feel bad. I can make my own dogs and cats, or whatever. I don't care. I don't care who likes them or not."
"You don't care?" The principal had her victory. "People who don't care about others are not nice people, are they? I think maybe you need some time out so you can think about what you just said. I'm suspending you from school for a week."
That flame of anger became a light in the kid's gut. "Good!" he shouted. I hate this place anyway. Make it two weeks. And give me back my damn pencil."