Many of my friends might not know that I took woodshop in 8th grade.
The teacher, Mr. Teats was this surly older man that most the kids didn't care for.
Liken him to a kind of Mr. Wilson character from Dennis the Menace.
He had to be strict, kids in Jr High School are jerks.
My Teats liked me though and appointed me shop foreman.
The boys hated it. I of course loved it, being in charge of handing out tools
and helping some kids with cutting and operation.
My Pap-Pap was a woodworker, so I had an above average understanding
of the tools and how to use them.
Many years passed and I didn't pick up any woodworking tools.
As my life/work as an artist progressed,
it was at age 34 that I married my second husband,
who was no ordinary man.
He was a general contractor, fine woodworker, could weld, do A/C, plumbing, electrical wiring...oh and while he was building and furnishing a house,
he could completely restore a car from the ground up.
Having him to team up with was such a blessing.
We collaborated on many a project and he would cut out anything I wanted.
He also taught me a lot (although not welding...which is next for me to learn)
When he passed away I sold off most of his shop tools,
at least the tools I was most afraid of and didn't use.
My oldest son is also a woodworker/artist. For a while I relied on him to cut stuff out for me,
until his life became to busy to help me.
Why I was afraid to cut things out on my own other than simple ripped pieces, I don't know.
My Beau, Rob of 4 years has also helped me cut several things out.
But recently, preparing for Glitterfest...I have logged HOURS in the garage,
building/engineering my rather large display.
There has been the drilling of metal, cutting metal,
cutting and sanding doll parts, soldering, wiring... all the while, re-acquainted myself
with some power tools I hadn't touched in a while...out of Fear? Sorrow?
Or out of just being able to hand it off to the man in my life to do for me.
Last night at 9 pm, I decided the last two assemblage doll pieces
being made for Glitterfest were sorely in need of Wings.
So, out came my brand new Bosch Jig saw my son bought for me and away I cut,
sanded and filed my wings.
Wings represent freedom and are such a recurring theme in my work.
Funny when we push ourselves, we discover what we are really made of.
My dear hands are Terribly sore today from everything I have put them through this week.
(no wonder contractors have great Arms)
What a sense of accomplishment I have at revisiting some
trusty old friends and happy old memories.
Forget Diamons, Forget Fancy shoes...
Power tools are a girls best friend!!!