The soybeans are harvested. Fall can commence.
I had an actual notion for a guitar this morning when I walked out to the studio. I use a lot of contact cement in my work and as a consequence have an enormous, fist sized, what we used to call a “glue baby” back in the dark ages when, in the advertising business, a “paste up” was actually glued. This was before waxing machines made life easier, and before Al Gore invented the internet and made it easier still. All that aside, I have mad glue skills left over from those days and had every intention of going out there and taking a saw to that great wad of dried glue.
Of course, when I got out there, I discovered that the glue has taken on a personality of its own that I find difficult to ignore. Suddenly, there is this “she” in the thing – who puts me in mind of the cover art on the books my mother used to read – there were either 100 of them, or only one with slightly different art. The author was Georgette Heyer (I think – or something like that) and the story lines all had to do with Edwardian England and girls in white dresses caught in a wind storm in the highlands. At least I imagine this to be true because it was a popular cover illustration. Of course, I could be back to the fact that there was only one book that my mother read over and over. In any event, I could hardly now take a saw to “Georgette” and it would appear that I have to retire her as a tool also.
Which left me back to square nothing for a guitar. So I started rattling around in an unlabeled drawer that could be called “sink hole of unsuccessful projects” except that such a label does not narrow it down enough to make it a successful organizational tool. Actually, this drawer might be labeled “just because you took a workshop doesn’t mean that you can do it” since it appears to be filled with those kinds of unsuccessful projects. This really is a category in my studio.