Whimsy

You ring the bell, you pull a handle, and you chose your Fate.

I wanted a gizmo you might try at a carnival for a nickle that gives, once you pull down on one of the handles, your future. The action is all mechanical, the case opens to reveal the mechanism and for bulb changes.

Your version can have any Fates on the eight pop-up flags you wish. The size is 16" wide by 30" tall and 6" deep.

The Hoopla Troupe was the creation of a talented young writer, Thea Wheelwright, in the 1920's. They were designed, hand formed and painted to go along with a set of children's stories Thea had created about a young boy and girl who have adventures behind the moon and under the sea.

Her son presented me contemporary copies of the original seven figures, which can be arrayed in any number of configurations stacked atop each other, and they immediately called out for a proper and fitting stage on which to conduct their acrobatics.

The Hoopladrome is the result.

Six sided (perhaps I should have made it a seven-sided case, but 25.71 degree angles are rather more challenging than the 30 degree angles on each meet face of the six faces) with glass on each side and a hinged door in back — I was looking for a harlequin effect.

Lit from within, as any performance arena ought to be, with LEDs.

The One-Ring Circus spins when actuated by the capstan atop.

The figures are removable for play.

The Professor wanted a tasteful, refined and elegant trophy to be awarded to the winner each year of his hawg-callin', crocodile wraslin', road kill cook-off champ-peen-ship.

It all started with the (demilitarized) grenade and worked its way up to the 'scoreboard' on which the winner's name will be etched for posterity.

The plaque reads: "The Golden Grenade – Nihil magis in toto mundi homine comoedia."

And one thing more: lifting the grenade triggers a sound module which emits klaxons and sirens.

Antique (almost) Valentine's Card Cabinet — 4 4 2020

The cards are better than 90 years old, not the cabinet....

A project two years in the gestation, and six weeks in the creation.

It all started when my sister - the keeper of the family artifacts - sent me 19 Valentines. From the 1920's, my mother's when she would have about seven years old.

They wanted to be seen, but how best to array them?

Sure, you could BLAP stick them into a picture frame. Done. Yawn.

This was not only too boring to contemplate, but the cards would not be easily accessible for complete grokking; just like all those museum specimens: Look But Don't TOUCH!

BAH!

The two-year-ago concept had a sort of miniature Ferris Wheel with each card in its own car.

But I discovered that I then did not know how to build a wheel.

That deficiency has since been remedied.

Fine, we put the cards around the periphery of a wheel, like a roulette wheel, about 3 feet in diameter.

Now what?

The easy answer would have been just to mount the wheel on an axle, fasten that axle to a board and slam the whole thing onto the wall. Done. Yawn.

This enterprise wanted enclosure, to both protect the cards, and to make the viewing of each a conscious act of selection - you have to spin the wheel to get the deal.

The cards are removable - lammed on the wheel with magnets - and the door opens so that you can spin the wheel, make a deal, and take out a card for nostalgic viewing.

Aesthetic Challenge: how to form an enclosure that would not look like a cheap packing crate.

This took some slacking until the Final Answer bubbled out of the subconscious, which it does here at JohnsonArts with satisfying regularity: The cabinet Must Be Circular.

Once this die was cast, all the rest was simply (but not simple) follow-through.

Regard the results.

You never know when you are going to need this....

The Western Flyer was and is a wooden purse seiner built in 1937 and was the boat chartered by Ed Ricketts and John Steinbeck for their epic collecting (and drinking) trip to the Sea of Cortez. The trip is recounted in the only book Steinbeck co-authored (with Ricketts): The Log From The Sea Of Cortez.

The Western Flyer was nearly lost, sunk twice in mooring, but has been bought by the Gregg Brothers and during its restoration I came by one of the nails.

John Gregg materialized at a recent Cannery Row Foundation tour of the Ricketts Lab and produced some nails from the boat.

I have come into possession of one of them – clearly it wanted a display case – but a departure from the blocky cases I've built.

I settled on a vintage Coleman lantern globe. All that was left was to form superstructure around it, and craft some means by which the nail could be displayed within the case, and yet removable.

I supported the globe with oak into which I glued rare earth magnets. These magnets retain the end covers (cosmetic appurtenances for suspended ceiling lights), but allow the covers to be removed.

For the internal support of the nail, I formed acrylic discs with holes to support the nail.