Beginning not quite with the Thing being turned around. Read on.
Here’s what happened yesterday and today in the world of turning a Wing-ed Bowl.
Yesterday: At 1145 or so, I did some more sanding. This is where a crack started really getting my attention. At 1215, I turned my attention to the end-grain areas. (Disregard the 1745 in the upper-left – it’s wrong).
The crack must be dealt with. It can’t get any longer. But it sure can open up. Methinks…I don’t know. Let us find out what others have done.
Off to the WorldWideInformationSuperhighwayInternetWeb go I. This is where I spent the next four hours. I’m beyond help.
At about 1700, I decided to simply fill it with something. I must needs enlarge it, without making it straight, if you don’t mind. So I take my 1/8” chisel, my sharpest carving knife, and begin excavating.
I clean it up with the power carver. After which, I dribble some low-viscosity Superglue to stiffen the fibers and to flow into the, still very thin, crack at the bottom of the 1/4” deep trench.
I’ve made up my mnd, such as it is, to fill the trench rather than try to bridge it.
With what shall you fill it, dear Woodsmith, dear Woodsmith? With what shall you fill it? With what?
Why, with ground Quartz, dear Echo. Fill it with ground Quartz.
Ignore the fact that the thing is mounted on the chuck by the foot in the second photo. That’s coming. But first, some words. The first of these two shots was taken at 0100, and was where I left it til this morning.
The Thing, having multiple planes with which to concern myself about the flow of the filling agent, was removed from the spindle, still on the chuck, and placed on the #2 Morse Taper gripped in my face vise so I could be filling on a somewhat horizontal surface.
This was working out pretty well. I had already, as soon as I had completed the excavation, coated the trench with Superglue. Note that, at this point, I dribble some in, introduce the Quartz, dribble some more, more Quartz, more glue, more Quartz. Now, I have a berm, of sorts, covering the crack. A combination of 100 grit sandpaper and a stone bit on the power carver got it somewhat flush. I move on to the next section, tilting the Taper in the vise, and do it again. I repeat this process until I’m finally out at the area below the scorched line, and the Taper is pointing almost horizontal in the vise. I fill the crack and, when I get to where there’s a berm of Quartz, I lay my plastic glue-spreader along the length of it, and press down. This is what I’ve been doing all along, to make sure that the last layer of Quartz is well-acquainted the last bit of glue. Well, sir. Riddle me this: What happens, when you push down on the end of something that’s very poorly-supported at the other end? Not only did the Taper exit the vise, but, the chuck, and the wormscrew-attached Thing went to the floor with it. On impact, of course, the wormscrew left the Thing, taking a good bit of wood with it. Enough, in point of fact, that there’s no way to re-insert it.
Fine. This is a good time to mount it by the foot.
Fine. I’ll do that
(Hence, the position of the Thing in the chuck in that second photo.) Which appeared thusly from the top.
It’s wobbling badly because, in turning the outside after turning the foot, wood moved. That’s okay. Mebees, I can get away with re-turning only the area below the scorch line.
That went so well, I thought, mebees, I could re-turn the rest, thus making the filled trench look that good. A few days ago, I was watching I-Don’t-Recall-Whom turning a piece. He pointed out that, in the progession of stages through the making of a Objet de Arte, there are points at which the Museum-Bound Earth-Shaker is simply butt ugly, and the Artiste thinks about just throwing it out. This was one of those points.
Yeah. Some popped out. I continue. I’m doing pretty-well, bringing it along. Then, I decide to take a break. I walk up the street for a twenty-minute visit with my therapists, Bonny and Clyde.
And, on the walk home, I make up my mind, such as it is, to re-excavate the trench. This time, I’ll make some Butterfly/Bowtie-like bridges. I know I can do this, though I’ve never done it very well in the past.
But, that’s what I’ll do.
I approach the Thing with my little chisel and my mallet, and start tapping, ever so lightly away. When this happens.
The foot broke off.
[I’m a man. I can fix that.]
This is glue drying. And me, writing a Blog. I’ll see how well it re-mounts, after dinner (or, before – I’m flexible), and proceed with the plan. First, Methinks, I must needs see how well I can divine some Bowties.