What Happens Next

Altar-ations

If you have been astute enough to notice that progress is grinding to a halt awfully slow on our massive restoration project...

Well, um, er.....*cough*. (Yeah, I've got nothin'.)

It's been painfully slow. Painfully. We're WAY behind schedule. Everyone is beyond ready to be finished. Please send help.

And yet, beauty is still forthcoming. The original pieces that were removed from the church altar have been restored and are being re-purposed as part of the kitchen.  Stripping and sanding off ninety-some-odd years of paint was no easy feat, and luckily that job fell to someone who took it on with much enthusiasm. And then he quit.

Needless to say, that person was not me. But it could have been.

Some pieces were cut short to fit on the sides of the island.

On this side, a spot was left open for an ice machine. Hey, it gets H.O.T. in Texas!

Other pieces were left longer to trim out the front of the counter that runs along the perimeter of the kitchen.

This counter will allow for seating on the main floor, and it steps up to serving height from the kitchen side.

The design runs in a graceful arc that replicates the original curve of the altar.

As luck would have it, we have exactly one piece left over. Divine provenance?

This gives a birds-eye view of what is happening in the space. Notice my workshop that is visible through the opening above the kitchen. I'm taking this photo from the loft completely on the other side of the building, about as far away from being hard at work as possible.

Did I mention that we are behind schedule?

And yes, the "living room" still looks like this.

Thanks for asking.

Stamps of Approval

Once long, long ago (18 months ago, give or take), and in a land far, far away (Southern California), I was a working artist.

This was before "the project". I think I still had a life then. I can't quite remember.

But I do remember the day in early 2005 when one of my brothers called to tell me about a piece of art that he had seen hanging in the offices of a large philanthropic organization. This piece of art had really mesmerized him, and he had been quietly obsessing about it ever since. 

And the reason for this obsession? Stamps.

He has had hundreds of them. He was careening perilously close to having thousands. From all corners of the globe. He and his family have been doing humanitarian work for many years, and it has taken them all over Central and South America, as well as several parts of Africa, Asia, and Russia. I have been with them to Guatemala, El Salvador and Nicaragua, but I am still anxiously waiting for the mission trip to the opera house in Sydney, Australia. So far, that particular trip hasn't materialized.

Anyway, on these dozens of trips over these many years, he began to collect stamps from the countries they were visiting, and sometimes the countries they were just passing through. Easy to obtain, easy to pack and carry, relatively inexpensive. Then word spread that he was collecting, and people began to send him stamps. And the little manilla envelopes that held them all began to bulge and spill over. What to do...he couldn't just toss them, but really, how many stamps can a grown man have in a filing cabinet at work just lying around?

And then he saw it. A map of the world collaged in stamps. And he knew just who to call, because he knew I would be intrigued by the challenge. When he explained it to me on the phone that first day, I immediately knew just how it would look completed, even before I saw any stamps. He emailed me a very grainy image of the one he had seen, taken by someone's camera phone and emailed to him. What I could make out was a much more impressionist version, with simple changes in stamp color hinting at the land masses. It was beautiful, but as all artists do, I had my own vision for the project.

Of course, my vision was going to require tracing and cutting hundreds of tiny stamps into hundreds and hundreds of teeny-tiny pieces. Sometimes I wish my visions were simpler.

So he sent me the stamps, and I got to work.  (Actually I got to work about six months later, after he called and gently prodded me. I'm going with "creative block", because I have no other excuse, really.)

 

This piece is large. It measures about 44" x 60". You have no idea how small some countries get if the scale isn't large enough. I mean, Sri Lanka might have gotten left on the cutting room floor!

My goal was to represent each country with stamps that actually were issued by that country. That added greatly to the stress level challenge involved in this project. I would seriously have mild panic attacks about losing my one and only Madagascar stamp, and there were many times in the two months that it took me to complete this that I would lose track of my prized floral Indonesian stamps or my favorite statue of David stamp that was perfect for the boot of Italy. Ack! My studio space at that time was small to say the least, and stamps were Every.Where. Luckily, they were all ultimately found, even if sometimes it was on the bottom of a shoe.

Needless to say, my brother did not have stamps from every country in the world, and with his permission, I supplemented his supply with ones I needed from online auctions and private sellers. Stamps are surprisingly inexpensive when you don't need collector quality, and the small packages that arrive in the mail are magical in their diversity and diminutive beauty.

I have to say, I am really grateful for the way that this project reminded me about the details of world geography that I had become "fuzzy" on, and I was amazed at how connected I felt to the different countries as I was cutting and gluing their shapes to canvas all those weeks in my tiny studio. It was so interesting to observe the artwork that had been chosen by each government as a representation of their culture. Stamps from the African nations, for example, are very colorful, while the South American ones all have a vintage-y feel, very much like old cigar bands. Makes for very cohesive continents.

You may notice that all of the USA stamps are the traditional flag design, with the exception of the one along the Gulf of Mexico. I was working on this piece in the fall of 2005, while watching television coverage of Hurricane Katrina, so I used a "Love" stamp for the Louisiana/Mississippi region.

All in all, I used just over two thousand stamps. The distressed border is painted as part of the canvas, and there are many thin coats of an antiquing glaze applied as a finishing element, to sort of bring it all together.

This collage now hangs in the lobby of my brother's business. When I visited him last month, it was the first time I had seen it since I rolled it up and shipped it off to him. I am told that visitors love to stand up close to it, and are often surprised when they notice the detail. I am happy that it is well received. But mostly I care if he loves it, and I'm pretty sure he does. He was emotional on the phone when he first received it, and that made every stamp stuck to the table and every glue jar dumped on the floor totally worth it.

I had seriously sworn off of stamps forever after this project, but now that it has been nearly three years since I finished, I actually think I may want to do another one for The Boy. Cause now I'm the one with hundreds of stamps. Maybe close to thousands.

In a filing cabinet.

Daddies and Daughters

There was a June wedding in our family.

A bride and her bridesmaids.
Mothers and friends, aunts, nieces, female cousins.
The fairer sex was everywhere.

But other than the bride, which girl is the most excited at a wedding in that "deep-down, twirl-around-the-room" kind of way??

I'm pretty sure it's the flower girl.

So much joy in the celebration. Getting your hair done with the bride and her attendants. A beautiful new dress and slippers, a crown of flowers, and your name right there in the program! All-in-all, a dream come true for a young girl.

But, oh wait...the very best thing? A dance or two (or three) with dad.

Yes, this dad. This dad who doesn't dance. I have known this particular brother for forty-@#*%& years now, and he just doesn't dance. Sigh. I will never be able to figure out how men who are so athletically gifted just decide at a young age that they won't can't dance. They will publicly get knocked out, thrown down, battered, bruised and bloodied in the name of sport, but ask them to go "once around the dance floor"....Noooooooooo!

But dance he did on this stormy June night in Florida, as his youngest became the newest flower girl in the family. Bless him, he danced and danced. And she never stopped beaming. She probably hasn't stopped yet.

I picture bedtime at their house the past two weeks has gone something like this:

"Hey dad, remember when we danced at the wedding?"
"Yes, honey, I do."
"Dad?"
"Yes?"
"That was really fun."

I wish men "got" this about dancing. It really does make them the total package. This particular man is kind and smart, funny and hardworking. A great father. A great brother. But when he dances with a woman who loves him, well, we (the females in his family) all stand back with our hands folded ever so lightly on our chests, holding our collective breath. We are moved. We are girls.

And this is how happy a little dancing made one lucky flower girl. And her dad.

(Let's pause here for a moment and try to determine where this beautiful child got her giant smile.)

Just because I love this photo so much, I'm adding in the color version. And now let's ponder where she got those eyes. Wait, actually I'm pretty sure those are from her mother. Sorry, bro.

And just for the record, yes, other males in my family danced that night, too. In public. And I have proof. 

Just sayin'.

Happy 4th!

Happy 4th, everyone!

Wanderlust

In case you were wondering what feverish work schedule was being implemented to finish up "the project", well, here you have it...

It goes a little something like this:
"Church, what church?"

Yes, that's right, any excuse for a getaway...and lo and behold, my amazing nephew got married last weekend. In Florida. And we were SO.THERE.

Also there from various locations around the country were my four brothers and my sister. An all-too-rare occurrence, sadly enough. Spouses, children and grandchildren were also in attendance.  Sister-in-law's entire family, and friends of the family, some of whom I haven't seen in more than twenty years. Heaven.

And by heaven I mean getting to hang out at my brother's house on Tampa Bay with most of my favorite people in the world. I love it there. I seriously and unashamedly love it. Nothing but big skies and big water views, and a house that wraps you in it's arms and lets you breathe a little deeper. And a lot slower.

And though most of us were staying in nice hotels, we still came here day after day, to be together, to play and to take in the views and the comfort of this place. When given a chance, we all flock to this house, and each other, like swallows coming home to Capistrano.

And here I would like to offer Exhibit A. The Boy had absolutely no trouble relaxing. I'm pretty sure he's placed a drink order and has a volleyball game scheduled at 5. His binoculars are close by, just in case anything warrants closer inspection.

*He's also hoping no one will notice that they actually belong to Aunt Jane and that they are missing from that "child-friendly" shelf in the house.

The house. Sometimes I actually think I shouldn't be allowed to travel. I get easily smitten when in a fantastic place. Sometimes it's a great house that causes me to fall so hard, and sometimes it's the city/country itself. Although I know it comes from a childhood spent moving around, I can almost always imagine a wonderful new life and an exciting adventure in my new locale. And let me tell you right now that A LOT of time can be spent "mentally" moving your entire life. And there's a genuine melancholy when you remind yourself that it is just not destined to be. Of course, smitten doesn't always happen.  I mean, I have been to Newark, for example. ahem.

But it does happen when I go here.  Always.

As Exhibit B, I would just like to mention that all of these photos were taken from the back yard and dock of said house.

Daughter has a pretty great time hanging with the family, as well. But she is annoyingly levelheaded when it comes to relocating to every single "Florida-Hawaii-or-Paris" that comes along. Although she does make serious noise about living in Rome someday. I guess the gypsy apple doesn't fall far from the tree, after all.

But, oh, the skies. I really think it's these skies that I fall so in love with. The same tropical fascination that lures me to Hawaii. Vast, dramatic, volatile sky-scapes that change by the second, daring you to blink lest you miss another spectacular display. Let's just call this Exhibit C.

Breathtaking beauty in all directions, and at every hour of the day. Mesmerizing. A cleansing of the soul with each sunset. And all of this happens each day as you do the dishes, or play catch with  a nephew, or sit on the deck with a sibling or five. *sigh*

So brother, friend, father-of-the-groom, thank you for letting me hang out in your amazing world once again. I am still feeling the  emotional tug.

And about that now empty guest suite with the private deck? (Shhh...I'll be back. Soon. And try not to be alarmed by all the suitcases.) Love you!

And congratulations Dave and Heather! The wedding was beautiful.

(Could the two of you possibly BE any cuter?? Sheesh.)

Bent, But Not Broken

 

Today ~ It was the best of days. It was the worst of days.

A truly joyous beginning. At last, at long last, more windows being installed into their frames. Ready to be put back in place. One step closer to the finish line. Hallelujah!

 

I have thirty-seven windows ready to be installed. This is in addition to the twenty that are already back in their places, hiding behind a plywood shield, waiting...waiting for the day of the ultimate window reveal. That day I am sure that the angels will be singing. Bluebirds of happiness will fly out of places only spoken of in whispered tones.  All of heaven will be smiling down, I'm just sure of it.

But the journey to that ultimate goal continues to be long. Did I mention that some of these "new" windows are indeed new for the second time? No? Darn, that must have slipped my mind.

Deep breath...okay, so there was the day in November when a stray pit bull pit bull got into the church, came up to the third floor studio, and managed to get tangled up in a group of windows leaning against the end of a work table, crashing six of them to the ground right-in-front-of-my-face. Nice Doggy.

I had to take a moment, people. Maybe I had to take a week. I don't remember.

I also probably didn't mention the time this Spring that I came back from a trip to find two more windows badly broken and four completely missing. I guess I figured since no one had any information on what happened, there really wasn't much of a story to tell. My bad.

The bottom line on all of this pillage and plunder is that I have spent the past ten weeks repairing and replacing that which had already been done. Now I am at a total of sixty-nine windows with only fifty-seven to show for it. Man, I hate "fuzzy" math.

So the good part of today? New guys with 20+ years of experience coming to handle these windows...professionals who have contracted with some of the largest and most beautiful churches in town. Are the angels singing yet?

Not yet. First we had to have a discussion on how the glazing would be handled, because "Thanks, but we won't be using silicone to hold these in place. Even if you do it all the time. No, really. But thanks". If The Boy would someday need to have one of them removed for a repair, I would hate to think that he would need to have it pretty much smashed around the edges to get it out. But hey, that's just me...I'm funny like that.

So, no problem, glazing compound it is. Old school. Time-honored. Whew.

 

They got two windows put in the frames today, in a little over an hour. Impressive. The glazing around the edges looks beautiful. It's obvious they've done this many, many times. I'm feeling really relieved.

Until I walk up close, while they are leaning in the light, and see that one is broken at the top. I'm sure from one of the metal glazing "points" that are used under the putty, to hold the glass firmly against the wood. One of two windows. Broken. Again. It's only one piece, but the whole thing is going to have to be removed (again) from the frame to be carefully replaced. It's one of the long curved green pieces at the top above the "shield", so it won't be easy to get out. Or put back in, for that matter. The fact that I remained calm when faced with this discovery should have in all fairness caused my head to explode. Instead I left to take another moment. Or maybe it was an hour.  I don't remember.

When I returned, the professionals were gone.

What happens next? I'm not sure, but I won't be the least bit surprised if I never see these guys again. Meanwhile, I'll just keep building, and someday "they" will come. I hope they hurry.

Amen.

 

Hey, thanks for coming to my pity-party. You are all such good friends. Be sure to pick up your party favors on the way out. :)

Gettin' Schooled

 
Someone started preschool today. A couple of "someone-elses" were wistful, yet felt strangely free.

He hit the playground with a vengeance, and virtually never looked back. Either he was perfectly prepared, with his sense of self-confidence firmly intact, or he was desperate for the company of others.

Hmmm... I'm going with prepared.

The Boy......Oh, the places he'll go!

(Photo by Gillian Crane Photography. Thanks, Gillian!)

 

Sketchy

Design of any kind usually begins with a sketch. Or, most likely, a series of sketches. It is the way designers and clients communicate ideas and refine their visions.

These are the sketches that Kevin began the kitchen with. Well, he began with these, and ended with them as well. They were that good.

 

This is the "big picture". From the back wall, moving forward to the island where the drawers are visible from this elevation, and forward again to the curved eating counter that separates the kitchen from the rest of the sanctuary. A very nice beginning. The carved pieces on the front of the counter were salvaged from the back of the altar during demo and will be also be used on the sides of the island.

 

Never able to resist making a complicated endeavor positively monumental, we added a "Juliet" balcony to the space above the kitchen, offering easy communication between the second and third floors. It is a vast space up there on that wall, in need of a point of interest, and it offers the added benefit of more natural light to both areas.

And at this point in the festivities, I would just like to ask..."Wherefore in-the-heck art thou, Romeo??"... Oh, sorry, where was I again?...

 

This is a detail sketch of one of the cabinets that flank the back wall. These bad boys are 10-and-a-half feet tall. I have no idea how I will ever know what is in the top cabinets, but they really needed to be tall to fit the scale of the space. Maybe we could run a sliding "library ladder" around the perimeter?

The door on the bottom left, (with the handle on the top), is an old-fashioned potato/onion bin, that will pivot forward when pulled. Kevin loves to add these unexpected features. I don't really eat potatoes all that often, but I'm all about the onions. Although it will probably take about forty pounds of them to fill this up!

 

Here, on the opposite side of the room, is the cabinet that will house the double ovens and the warming drawer. Love, love, love having double ovens, and this will be my first time having a warming drawer. These bad boys are 36" wide, commercial size, so I am envisioning quite a bit of cooking going on in here when it is all said and done. Mostly because there will be no money left for eating in restaurants. I'd better start visiting here every day, and not just for the pretty pictures.

Thanksgiving at the church, anyone?

 

So here is where we are. Sigh. A million miles from where we began, yet still a few hundred miles from where we need to be.

This week the templates are being taken for the stone countertops. The appliances will be installed in about two weeks, as will all the doors and drawers. Painting/staining the whole thing will take place somewhere in the middle of all that. There is electrical that still needs to be finished. The copper sink is being manufactured as we speak.

The final design of the forged iron railings for the balcony is still "up in the air". See, I have managed to maintain my sense of humor through this process. (But don't tell my family I said that, cause they would probably beg to differ.)

I am dreaming of creating a fantastic glass mosaic for the backsplash above the sink. Because I am a glutton for punishment like that. Pray for me.

Amen.

Chasing Motherhood

I've spent some time today looking through recent photographs, caught up in my feelings about Mothers Day.

This one, of Daughter and The Boy, struck me as a poignant moment in the life of a young mother.

How often does a small child call out "Mommy, mommy, chase me!" So we do.

And in that joy, in that innocence and visceral delight, the bonds of love grow stronger.

"Mommy, chase me!"
"Please help me chase my hopes, my dreams, my self-confidence, my comfort, my spiritual center, my place in the world." And oh, yes, we do. With all our hearts, we do.

And in the doing, WE grow stronger. Then oh-so suddenly, as they develop strength and confidence, they begin to turn around and chase us with the same fervor. And the joy is still palpable every time.

So maybe we should celebrate today by "chasing" our babies, big and small, for a moment longer. Whether they ask for it or not. And go ahead and feel free to BE chased a little, as well!

It's the circle of life.

Happy Mother's Day, everyone!

 

I'm Floored

Alas, there is major progress afoot!
(Underfoot??)

Anyway, floors are being tended to, and that usually signals the beginning of the excruciatingly long end!!

Notice the serious nature of the nearly century-old grime on these floors! They could not have been in any worse shape without involving either a box of matches or an act of God. The issues did, however, include a rather large flock of pigeons. You can thank me for sparing you a close-up.

Here we have a test area, trying out the sander. (And by "we", I mean definitely not me.)

Okay, that's better! There really are beautiful wood floors under all that....um, dirt!

This was after sanding the area three times.

At this point the upper platforms have also been sanded and conditioned, and the stain is being applied. In these smaller areas, they prefer to do it by hand, with rags. (And by "they", I still mean not me.) Because this is really, really hard work.

In the light of day, it is decided that the color is a bit too red...

So it is darkened, and thankfully now it is just right!

This room is on the third floor of the building, and was originally used for choir practice. It's about 1500 square feet, including the large new bathroom in the far corner. That room was a sort of secret, non-functional office/storage room, and is undergoing quite the transformation. Stay tuned for that reveal on the forthcoming "Parade of Bathrooms"!

The "steps" around the perimeter could not be removed, as they are hiding some interesting construction quirks, such as the tops of the vaulted ceilings from the floor below! Weird.

The "risers" for these steps are an odd assortment of wood, so instead of being stained, they will be painted, probably to match the new crown molding, which is still white in these photos.

This area will most likely be used in the way that a "bonus" room is used in most homes. Some gym equipment, a pool table...

And definitely some roller skates! Woot!

 

The One Where I Finally Come Up For Air

Okay, okay, you can call off the search party. I've been right here the whole time. Just hunkered down in my workshop 60-70 hours a week for the past three weeks.

Let's just say that my hair has looked better, but it's getting harder to remember when.

Trying to keep my head above water here, people. Seems like I'm hitting the old proverbial wall on this project, so I have to drop a shoulder and just push through it.

Sixty windows completed at this point, and "I-don't-want-to-count-how-many-are-left-thank-you-very-much".

This is a nice, simple design. It almost doesn't make me want to gouge my eyes out with a soldering iron that I've had to make fifteen of this exact same one. Three more to go. Ack.

But I do love my tools. Isn't this the coolest hammer ever? Rubber on one side so you can tap the glass in position, and hard on the other side for the nails. And dudes, these are horseshoe nails, which for some strange reason makes me happy. See how little it takes these days??

Regardless, there has been an awful lot of hammering lately, and some of it has been unnecessarily loud.

Just sayin.

Boy Crazy

Boy crazy...that's me. Cause just look at this face and tell me you wouldn't be, too.

There's that whole thing about being two, but I'm going to just let that go for now. He's been asleep for about four hours and, well, my short term memory has been unreliable lately. Plus, if you throw in the "Nana" factor...

He must be an angel. Amen.

A Beautiful Mess

Don't you just hate it when your living room looks like this?

For over a year a very long time? 

Yeah, me too.

Stand-Up Guy

This is the guy who always stood up straight and proud for the class photo.

Middle row, big smile, no horsing around. You remember him.

Actually, his name is Luis, and I just couldn't get a candid shot from him. After asking if I could take his photo while he was working (big mistake), he proceeded to stop working and pose every time the camera came up. Can't you just see the big smile under the mask? It's there...you know it is.

I just love watching these guys walking around on their stilts. They are using them to put up the sheetrock, and all that it entails, without having to use ladders. Genius. I'm thinking of getting a pair so that I can reach the very top shelf in my closet.

So I tried sneaking up behind him in another room. But he was ready for me. Always with the pose, this one. Only this time I don't see the smile...

Meanwhile, his friend in red can't get away fast enough.

One last try, and this time they are both getting away. I might be imagining this, but I swear Luis is pausing with his right foot and glancing back for one final shot.

I think he's glad that I left him alone to work, but I wonder if he would like a copy of the first photo for his mom?

Seeing The Light

There is something so praise-worthy about a day when the electrician shows up!

These beautiful carriage lights have been patiently waiting in their boxes for about eight months now. Have I ever told you about the construction version of the law of diminishing returns? No? Well, it goes a little something like this...

The longer a job goes on (and on) (and on) is directly proportionate to the diminishing number of times that a tradesman will return when they say they will. Which of course doesn't help with the whole "trying-desperately-to-get-finished" thing. But what can you do...apparently it's the law. And when your project has gone on for more than a year and a half, well let's just say that you spend a lot of time rounding up the troops.

But yesterday the prodigal electrician returned, and the lovely fixtures came out of their boxes and went to live in the sanctuary. First one side...

And then the other. Ten beautiful lights in all, dropping down about twenty feet from the ceiling. What a difference they make! And they really look like they have always been there, don't you think?

Wouldn't you know that the morning after Bossy and the Dallas-area bloggers hung out in the building, the very next morning, the restored stained glass windows began to get put back in place! Sorry girls, I wish we hadn't had to climb into the attic to see them on Monday night!

And no, not all of the windows are finished. Not even close, if I'm being honest. I  also seem to be a perpetrator victim of that pesky law of diminishing returns. Sigh.

Next we will have to address the three chandeliers that were added to the building in the 1960s by the ladies auxiliary, as part of a very ambitious fundraising effort. These fixtures have quite a bit of damage to their amber glass panels, which will be replaced with mica, cut to fit from huge sheets. That should be quite the project, alright, and to tell you the truth... I'm afraid.

Meanwhile, doesn't the ceiling look pretty?