Autumn

I know. It isn't quite fall yet. Autumn is a little over three weeks away, but I can feel it coming nonetheless. The seasons are subtle things in So Cal. Fall doesn't announce itself with flaming red and yellow trees, and frost in the early morning. It leans in with the yellowing angle of the sun, and hints of a certain heaviness in the afternoon breeze. A whisper, a sigh, and a slow turning awareness that summer is old, and getting weary. So it has been these last few days. 

It conjurs up memories, of course. The school year starting meant getting off the day shift after the hard work of summer cleaning, and going back to pushing broom on swing shift, so I could get up early and surf in the morning. September swells at Huntington Beach, and that 7' 5" diamond tail Dyno. It was such a sweet and easy board to ride. Weed harvest in Mexico, and soon enough you could get a fat lid for ten bucks. Or some years later, going back in as teacher, getting lesson plans together for the Cholos in East LA. Looking back through the haze, it was all pretty damn sweet. Best of all, I knew it. I have always been acutely aware of the good in good times.

I don't write about politics, current events, or even social trends here on the blog. It's not because I don't pay attention, or care about this kind of stuff. Indeed, I pay altogether too damn much attention to it, much to the detriment of my happiness, and even my mental health. Overall, it looks like the nation, and even the greater West, civilization as we have come to know it, is unravelling. I see kids in their twenties who by rights should be  in the wild and unruly phase of life, masked up, wearing safety helmets as they ride e-scooters, and constantly hypnotized by the cellphone. I find this horrifying. I don't have a television, but if I go into J's Grill to get a taco I see the TV on, and it seems like something from a bad dystopian satire. I could go on here, but I won't. You get the idea. 

I'm an old man, seventy two by the last birthday some days back.  I remain acutely aware of the good, in good times. I can count my blessings, and I do so regularly. God has been far better to me than I deserve. I have a lovely wife, a beautiful and comfortable home.  The greatest cat in the world (so he tells me) sits under the window, atop the bookcase near the desk. We have food on the table. We have good friends. We don't owe any money to anyone. These are all incredible blessings in this age and time.

I have the stonework, and the Lost Canyon Project to keep me very busy, and lend some meaning to these late days. It is good to have a task to accomplish, and the energy and desire to accomplish it. Daylight arrives in a few minutes, and I'll get busy with the tasks of the hour. So it is, this cloudy early morning late in August. 

So, anyway, let's have a look at the orange stone. Unlike most of my projects, this is a simple, uncomplicated form. There won't be any fancy though-cuts, or figure-within a figure stuff.

 One arm will twist forward, and the other will bend behind it, but other than that, it's a fairly simple shape. I've been working toward pushing the leaning faces back so they'll turn around the forward face on the other side. It's pretty basic stuff, but slow going. Notice that the bottom two pics represent a day's progress from the ones nearer to the top of the page.

 Here is where using power tools would greatly speed up the process. These cuts have taken three days to get to this point, advancing with a line scored with an ancient bone saw, some delicate application of the small point chisels, and a lot of  careful excavation with the rasp. This would all take less than half an hour with the angle grinder, but the faster the cut, the more likely to make an error, and once the stone is ground or cut away it can't be undone. So I prefer slow, and safe to fast and final. I can be patient if patience is called for.