Sam Cooke’s nightmare scenario of a man hammering from dawn to dusk for no apparent reason besides that of his ownership of a hammer is clearly on my wife’s mind whenever she sees me bearing tools. It is a though she is mentally leafing through a grimoire of twisted and misaligned fragments of wood that is the catalogue of my achievements in the field of carpentry. My work has a deep peasant like character of such ancient origins that it remains unrecognised as such by the peasants, who are our neighbours, and who believe it to be the work of visiting children or malicious spirits rather than practical objects. The ravages of winter on the wooden hatch covering the pool filter have forced my hand which has resulted in the reopening of Pandora’s box – aka “my tool chest”. In the ten years of living in the “wilderness” I have advanced from nails to screws whilst carefully bypassing dovetail joints and their ilk. A rudimentary geometry has entered the equation ( a worthwhile mixed metaphor) which has resulted in the foreplay of drawing straight lines on the virgin wood before I put on my blindfold and start sawing and hammering in the atavistic way that is my trademark. Another rudimentary cover for the filter is now in place leaving visitors to ponder on the mysterious tracery of purposeful pencil lines that adorn it, like some latter day Lascaux lido, but which have no possible relationship to its form or purpose. But, every cloud having a saliva lining most of which has dripped on us through these early “summer” months, the weather beaten planks of the now dismantled hatch cover MK1 have at last become something useful, although this is objective, by their transformation into a background and surface for still life photography. These are now happy planks that are safe in the knowledge that they will be taken into the shelter of the outhouse at the end of sessions, to be sheltered from the depredations of sun and rain, so that their hard earned patina may be preserved for their new life of leisure.
Roger Stowell Photography
Simply Fed – a new book by Roger Stowell – this book is now available from BLURB.com in iPad/iPhone version for 5,49€
Camerahols link
“Eating at La Moussiere” – iPad/iPhone version 3,99€ from Blurb.com
Cool.
Those utensils are also a few of my favorite things! I just wish I had them arranged in such a beautifully way!!
It’s a nice thing to do:)
On first glance, I thought, “Why does Roger hang his kitchen tools on the barn wall?”
What is it called when you do a composite like that?
A lot of work or, more technically, a montage. You make a background and size your pictures so that they can be dragged, dropped and organised in the space provided by the background.
In other words, Something Else Marie Dosn’t Have Time For Right Now…
Thanks. It’s on the Someday list.
Too funny.. saliva lining.. your writing is always so entertaining!! You’ve left me thinking about centuries into the future when an archeologist unearths your creations and pencil marks…
He’s going to be a disappointed archaeologist:)
Despite your aversion to dovetails joints et al, you’re far more accomplished than I. Should I mention to anyone, family or friend, that I “fixed” something, be it around my home or the car, the response is, invariably, “You? Did what?” I’ve learned to “forget” to mention the follow-up call to a repairman to address the ill-effects of my handiwork. I doubt that anyone is fooled. It’s pretty much understood that if I’m seen with a hammer, a repairman will be seen shortly thereafter.
There’s some synchronicity at work here, John:)
Your woodwork sounds just the kind I like, Roger. Sort of lived in.
Lived next to would be safer than lived in
Love the montage! Very clever.
Thanks for that, Andy
Impressive!
Very nice post!
Obviously I have no idea how many planks you have, but i couldn’t help wondering if leaving some exposed to the weather might provide a second beautiful background…
A very good idea:)
I couldn’t help wanting some of my own
If you’re anything like as unskilled as me, you could build a shed. Within a short time the weather will will have knocked it down and there’s the weathered wood for your surfaces:)
Love your humor.
Thanks for that, as I remember teachers often saying to me in class “There’s nothing funny here. Roger”