Head in the Clouds.

I want to find a way to thank and to give back to my home; to memory; to adolescence; to my mom. I’m an artist; a designer, and my currency is visual, physical, and often tactile. I could see very clearly in my mind what I wanted to build and what it meant to me. But how do I share it? All that remained was putting pen to paper.

The lamp design process, between my digital model and prototyping, was a step out of my comfort zone. Both Rhino 3d modeling software, and obviously lamp design, were new territory. Exploring new disciplines can be daunting and a complete headache. The ribbing detail in my CAD model occupied an entire weekend.

A similar apprehension plagued me before I bent my first wire and began the prototyping phase. Armed with a pair of pilers, wood glue, a box cutter, several coils of rust resistant wire, and a role of tradition Japanese rice paper, I’ve engaged with what has proven to be a very difficult material to work with. But that’s alright, I appreciate challenges, and my hands don’t hurt so much when I wear gloves.

Like the clogs and lamp, these denims pay particular tribute to my origins. I struggled at first deciding how apparently to viewers this commemoration should be but decided it didn’t need to be instantly didactic because I’m explaining it here. The netting is a veil through which, if you look closely, can make out two traditional square cut windows, much like those in my home in Virginia. Above the right front pocket, a horned face peers out from a fleece-lined interior sporting a Hironimus Bosch Garden of Earthly Delights print and embroidered on the two back pockets are a stylized ‘O’ and ‘P’. Each detail is a nod to little pieces of my upbringing. These inclusions are my way of honoring where I come from and adapting them into my style.

These pants are an experiment as much as they are a story. The cut is original, and though I’m proud of the fit and durability, etc. a great deal of what I did and did not do will inform my future garments. That said, they’re wearable and I like to think, stylish. For future reference however, a smaller zipper is in order, a heavier duty machine, and an extension of the undercarriage.

Sewing is often a lesson in delayed gratification. Here was no different. As you would assume, the more time I spent focusing on the details that might not appear at first glance, the higher the integrity of what I made. This isn’t new information, but it is something I had to remind myself again and again. Impatience can easily get the best of you, and in the rush/excitement to finish it is surprisingly easy to make mistakes.

But the final, and most important test for any designed product is real use. All that remains is to wear and enjoy them.

Using loose sketch of rubber shoes sporting faces, I begin to conceptualize the ‘how’. Using what form would I make them? My foot? Another Shoe? How then would I attach the face? Would it be easier to 3d print or mold? My uncertainty necessitated expert advice. Between two trips to the Makerspace in 100 McCaul I had the opportunity to consult with experts, first from the 3d Printing Lab and later in the Molding Lab. After thorough discussions with each about the logistics of my idea, I settled on plasticine and clay sculpture over sandals as models for two-piece plaster molds that I would then paint with silicone to achieve such shoes. This research effectively gave my drawing physics and helped me to the creation stage of my design problem.

Only with earnest questions and admissions of ignorance have I learned anything about mold making.  I try not to feel sheepish leaving my work desk every five minutes to ask a second opinion on model detail transference or plaster mixing and do so often. Conquering this discomfort and embracing modesty is key to skill building. Abandon pride, and learning becomes much easier.

Establishing community in my workspace and developing comradery have informed my studio process. I’m sure many designers and artists will agree on the critical role it plays in production. In a similar ritualistic sense to my journey to and from the molding studio, smoke breaks, group trips to Tim Hortons, and spirited discussion of stagnant water, offer feedback, ambiance, and motivation for my production. Therefore, I think it fitting to end this with thanks to my mold-making community; to my new friends, Tongxin, Camille, Jared, Dylan, and Semone. You’ve all given me stylistic and technical feedback, conversation, cigarettes, and encouragement, and for that I am grateful.