The Fine Arts Fair at St. Luke’s Church during the Gallery Walk was great. Now I’m looking forward to the return of Eat, Drink, & Buy Art, alias EDBA, at the Old Franklin Schoolhouse. It will be a two-day even, on Saturday, December 7 from 5:30-9:30 pm and Sunday, December 8 from 11 am- 4 pm. Sunday is also the day of the Holiday House Tour, back by popular demand.
I’ll be showing some new items this year: some menorahs powered by tea lights. Yes, tea lights. No more scraping wax off the menorah.
I’ll bring back the holly boxes along with some new items that I’ll post as they’re ready.
So, stop by and see great artisans and their work in Metuchen in December!
I’ll be showing at Metuchen Art Council’s Fine Arts Fair during the Gallery Walk this Sunday, October 13th!
You can tour 5 galleries in Metuchen, and visit 16 artists in St. Luke’s Fryer Hall from 2-6 pm.
I wanted to make menorahs out of wood, but wood is… flammable. After a little searching, I found the answer: tea lights!
I’ll be showing this piece and many others in Metuchen on Sunday, so stop by, say hi, get dinner or a cocktail in town, and see five – count ’em, five – galleries all within easy walking distance of downtown.
I can customize a menorah for you. Ask me about it.
This is Taxus brevifolia, the American or Pacific or Western yew, allegedly one of the most toxic plants in North America. But only if you eat it. There’s some concern that it can cause heart attacks in those who work with it, or handle it, or look at it disrespectfully. The biggest danger is to livestock and dogs. Dogs will try to eat anything. Mike helped me out by cutting this one to the ground. Poison or not, I’ve had it with the scrappy-looking thing.
I’ve worked with yew, and did not experience shortness of breath, irritation, staggering, weakness, coldness – well, I frequently experience coldness – or collapse. I experienced annoyance because it’s stringy and sappy. But that yew was brown and yellow, and this is a startling red! It’s too small to allow me to do much with it, but maybe I’ll let it sit around being poisonous in the basement, and make something out of it someday. I’m betting that the red fades to brown.
My parents had two upright yews growing by their house and cut them down to keep the cat from getting herself stuck on the roof. Here’s what I did to one of them. That’s a staff about 6 feet tall. The difference between mature and new wood is clear, and there’s a nice streak of blue running up one side. I guess each one is toxic in its own special way.
This blog made me think of something else I made: a spatula. I’ve been stirring my food with North America’s most toxic wood for 20 years. Hmm.
There is debate in the botanical community; is Taxus brevifolia getting a bad rap? European and Japanese yews are full of a cardiotoxic alkaloidal fraction called ‘taxine’, but here in the U.S., moose and deer eat the native yew, and they don’t stagger and faint. Brevifolia is different than baccata and cuspidata.
The whole east coast is landscaped in this stuff and everyone says, anecdotally, that children die when they eat the berries. But when’s the last time you heard of a child dying of berries? This sounds like the story of how your uncle knows a man who’s wife has a cousin who ate poisoned Hallowe’en candy.
Taxol, the drug made from brevifolia, is another story. It’s alleged to be toxic because the yew element is carried by polyethoxylated castor oil, and everyone knows that castor bean plants are toxic. Everyone except my parent’s landscaper who says they grew near his house when he was a kid and he and his friends all played with the leaves, and didn’t stagger and wheeze.
So for now, I’ll keep the yew. I just won’t eat it. I’ll use the spatula to stir the nightshade salad.
I’m not sure how long this vase will remain waterproof, but it’s covered with enough product to last a while.
I told my neighbor that it was time to prune her lilacs. This really meant ‘it is time for me to prune your lilacs.’ I hate to see a neglected lilac. So I chopped down a few main stems, and squared one up. You can see the purple streaks in the wood, and the contrast of the hardwood and softwood. They won’t last; wood always yellows with age, and the purple fades, but when it’s first cut, it’s the color of lilac blossoms. I hollowed the block with a brace and bit. I had to drill from both ends, so I stuffed one end with a plug of wood, and covered it with glue, spar varnish, basically anything gooey.
All the cracks are filled, and we’ll see how it holds up.
Kim’s expecting Baby Tabitha, and her friend commissioned me to write her name in wire, to hang over the crib. The letters are entwined with vines and leaves to go with flowers that Kim will hang around the name. The white wire will show up against the light blue walls, which will also form the sky color for a flowery mural across the room.
By the time Tabitha is 5 years old, she may decide that her favorite color is pink and that she wants dinosaurs, not flowers. Then at 12 she may want purple and dragons. Then at 15, perhaps she’ll paint the room black and hang skulls on the wall. But for now, Kim gets to enjoy some pure baby design for her blossoming baby girl.
This is my first public sign since the old Raconteur sign, and I thank St. Luke’s for considering my proposal. It may be hard to tell, but this is about four feet long. I like working at this scale, and don’t usually have the opportunity.
The body is cut from basswood, which may weather to a pale gray, and the applied nails are cut in the round from padauk, Pterocarpus soyauxii, which, like many species, will darken to brown. The natural colors give good contrast, and padauk is a little stringy but cuts well to show a shiny surface. The sign is sealed with many coats of spar varnish, which gives a little golden tone.
The three crossed nails were cut on the band saw as one piece, in two directions before being cut with a hand saw, then filed and carved by hand. The body surface and letters are hand-cut.
I’m looking forward to the gallery’s opening this weekend. It’s a small space that shows artwork well, and a great addition to the exhibit spaces in town.
Back in 1996, as I was enjoying the Olympics in Atlanta, tornadoes ripped through Mount Holly, NJ. That’s right – tornadoes. Imagine my surprise when I saw that on the Weather Channel. I had parked my car there before traveling to Atlanta with a friend in an admittedly better car, and when I got back I discovered that the sudden pressure change had blown out my air conditioner. The tornado also snapped off many of the town’s eponymous holly trees, and blew them around the neighborhood.
The boxes you see are made from that wood. I think it’s fun to use the tree itself as a guide to design, since so many leaves are attractive and distinct. Holly’s tough to work. It’s hard and stringy, and it can heat up and burn when it’s cut with power tools, but the tight grain is very pretty and polishes well. The wood won’t stay this white forever – exposure to air and light will turn it butter yellow someday, but for now, it’s almost as pale as when I cut it open.
I’ll show these at the upcoming event in Metuchen, ‘Eat, Drink, and Buy Art’, this weekend. Here’s the link: http://www.boroughimprovementleague.org/8.html. The Borough Improvement League always runs a great event, so if you’re thinking of picking up some holiday gifts, stop by and see these very boxes and lots of other good stuff.