Mushroom Shelves

I just finished up a nice batch of 12 new mushroom shelves (above)! I had first seen tree fungus (Ganoderma species, usually) used as curio shelves several years ago in John Derian's shop in Manhattan. A glimpse at a price tag ($140-$350 each) confirmed that while those shelves were way beyond my means financially, the possibility of making my own was definitely within my means creatively! It looks like he is still stocking them:



And people of means are buying them. Actress (turned decorator!) Julianne Moore purchased a big one to put in a bedroom she decorated for her stylist (photo by Paul Costello via Domino):



I spent a good bit of time figuring out just how to preserve and mount the hanging hardware on them, and eventually got the formula just right! Bugs love these mushrooms, and if they aren't treated correctly, they are invariably claimed by beatles that reduce them to pith and dust in very little time. A carved wood mushroom shelf is also available through several retailers:



But they are still on the expensive side (around $80 each) and I dont think they look quite as good as natural mushrooms. I've photographed each step that goes into making mushroom shelves, and at some point I will put it all together and post it for you!

Recent Finds...

A walk along the coast of lovely Bristol, RI, is always a delight. The air feels clean, and after a storm, many fine curiosities and bits of detritus worth investigating invariably wash up. A recent amble surprised me with this very large horseshoe crab shell; It is a full twenty inches to the tip of the tail! I have a much smaller specimen which consists of the top shell portion; the bottom had been torn out by a hungry raccoon. This particular specimen is complete on account of it being a molted shell, which is to say that the crab had grown too large for it, and squeezed its way out so as to form a new armored residence, leaving this perfectly complete, yet empty, shell behind.

Next, I browsed the bric-a-brac at a local thrift store and came away with this framed butterfly collection for 99 cents. Although I do enjoy butterflies, Im not so wild about these common orange and black varieties, and was instead most excited about the round frame fitted with convex (slightly domed) glass. I intend, at some point, to remove the butterflies, paint the frame, and display something a bit more exciting within. I am currently gathering up my materials for the production of wax anatomical specimens, as I intend to re-issue a batch of wax hearts that I had originally produced several years ago; I think perhaps one would look very nice in this new frame!



Below is one of a few displays I produced for my National Museum of Hospital and Pharmaceutical History relating the history of the production of wax anatomical models. This one has one of the hearts; it rotates slowly to reveal all of the details.

On the Aesthetic of the Victorian Naturalist's Parlor...

Recreating, or alluding to, the aesthetic of the Victorian naturalist's parlor has become very much en vogue of late. One has only to peruse any current interior decorating magazine to confirm that exhibiting mineral specimens, bones, shells and any creature preserved by means of taxidermy within the home distinguishes it's inhabitant as a man or woman of a scientific mind; trolling land, sky and sea in a quest for evidence of nature's most dramatic creations. The most delicate or prized specimens are distinguished by their tendency to be enshrined within the protective chamber of the Glass Dome. I can assure you that even a relatively pedestrian display of curios may be greatly enhanced by the act of putting a few choice specimens under glass domes of various sizes. Many chic retailers are now offering glass domes to the aspiring collector at greatly inflated prices:

$40 and $160, base and contents not included.

Without question, the best place for the decorator-on-a-budget to acquire glass domes is the local thrift store. How do such fine display accessories end up in a thrift store, you ask? Well, very often they are seen covering some imported brass-toned "antique" clock like the one below:

Also, In the 1970's, it was not uncommon for crafty folk to compose arrangements of dried weeds and butterflies and display them under glass domes, and these will very often be spied among the bric-a-brac at the local thrift store as well. I recently picked up the dome below at the thrift store for only $3.99. It contains a "real rose, preserved for eternity (by dipping it in red paint!)" Just remember not to let whatever hideous object you see inside color your decision to take it or leave it; $3.99 is a great price for a bell jar, after I ditch the rose and lace and paint the base!



The image below is another fine dome and base found recently for $5.99 at a thrift store. Unfortunately, I had eagerly discarded the most offensive portions of the set before taking this photo, which consisted of a small clock supported by an arch covered in pastel flowers like those around the base. Beneath the arch stood a small plastic bride and groom which, aided by a small battery powered motor in the base, "danced" in lazy circles of wedded bliss.



The arch was easily cut down with a little hand saw, the bride and groom were plucked from the rotating post, and the raised flowery vine encircling the base was easily sanded off with an electric sander. I then applied a few coats of primer and white paint, and ended up with a very nice dome and base that one would never suspect to have been a tacky wedding gift. The dome on the far right of the first image of this posting is the completed project, containing a coral tuft. Should I desire, a suitable curio may be mounted on the left-over rotating post sticking out of the base, adding rotating motion to the display! *Update* On the first morning of the new year I awoke to the sound of breaking glass: my naughty kitty had pushed this dome off the shelf! Im glad I hadn't paid $160 for it! All three of the domes in the title image were purchased from thrift stores, and none cost more than $8.00. Should you find a dome with no base, purchase it and proceed at once to the "woodcraft" aisle of your local Michael's or Crafts, Etc., where you may purchase an appropriately sized round pine plaque with a routed edge for only a few dollars to serve as the base. Now, perhaps you wonder what sort of natural curiosities you might display within your new dome? I beg you spend some time perusing the excellent photographs British artist Lucy Harvey has taken among the Natural History collections of some very fine British museums, including Oxford's trove of curiosa, The Pitt Rivers Museum, which may be further explored by embarking on a virtual tour of their galleries here

Now get out there, You, and start collecting!

addendum: Ok, Ok... if you simply must have a bell jar and something to display within poste haste, allow me to guide you to San Francisco's Paxton Gate, a delightful shop that will surely slake your thirst for the unusual... for now.

On The Subject Of Sculpey...

I figured I might post a few other nautical themed creations I've crafted from sculpey including a coral branch that I made during the height of the red coral craze, above, and a sawfish rostral, below:

A Fine Relic of the Old Whaling Days Crafted From Common Materials.

Please forgive the lack of continuity in these posts, gentle reader. True to my changeable Gemini nature, I grew tired of the idea of scrimshaw before I had completed the final act of my three part post on various ivories which was meant to culminate in a treatise on "the gentle art of scrimshaw." My attention thus diverted from the "gentle art", I pursue in it's stead an art of a decidedly less gentle nature which I will relate presently. I proclaim without hesitation that no artifact so powerfully evokes a sense of New England's colorful maritime past as that ubiquitous whalecraft, the harpoon. So numerous are the ladies and gentlemen who actively pursue relics of the old whaling days for their collections that to purchase a true harpoon original to the period, especially considering how few have survived intact, requires no small investment of disposable income, a luxury not enjoyed by most, and certainly not by myself. Fret not all of you who, like myself, would endeavor to imbue den or office with a jaunty nautical aspect, for a fine harpoon may be easily fashioned from common materials, to most remarkable effect! First, allow me to direct you to the website of a gentleman who is an authority on the subject, Mr. Thomas G. Lytle, that you might suitably educate yourself in the anatomy and various styles of harpoons. For our purposes, I focus here upon one of the earliest styles of harpoon, the hand darted type bearing the old double-flue tip which you will have read about on Mr. Lytle's website. Here I would be remiss if I did not make some mention of a very talented couple in Alaska who produce, from start to finish, harpoon reproductions of a stunning accuracy and beauty. I beg you take a moment to peruse their offerings here. He is a blacksmith, and produces the harpoon irons exactly as they were produced in the 1800's, by hammer and forge. These fine replicas are considerably less costly to purchase than an authentic artifact, but are still beyond my monetary means; if they prove beyond yours as well, then let us embark on our voyage together...
The hunt for a perfect harpoon pole takes us into the woods, or anywhere one might happen upon a good straight-ish piece of tree some 5-6 feet in length and with a diameter of 2 1/2 to 3 inches. There is an old grove of tightly planted Eastern Red Cedars ( Juniperus virginiana) in my vicinity which I think work very well. Notice that there are an abundance of these trees that have fallen by natural means; I consider these preferable, as they will generally have dried well, or "seasoned" by the time I find them, and I tend to feel better about not having depleted any living trees in my pursuits. Below is an excellent specimen; I cut it to length in the field. Notice that fine, red heartwood; it has a most bracing cedar fragrance!

And now... back to the workshop!
Here are the 3 poles I returned from the woods with; They are ready to be trimmed down a bit more before I strip the bark and shape the tip. The bark is stripped by means of an electric sander initially outfitted with a coarse paper, which also aids in the shaping of the cone-shaped tip of the pole. Finer grades of sandpaper are substituted until a desired degree of finish is achieved. Originally harpoon irons were fitted onto poles which retained their rough bark so that the harpooneer might achieve a better grip while being drenched by sea spray in the pursuit of his prey; I eschew authenticity in this detail, as I happen to enjoy the look of the sanded cedar. This pole has been stripped, sanded, and shaped to accept the "iron".
At this point, leave us retire to the crafts room and begin fashioning the harpoon "iron" (whaling lingo for the metal shaft and harpoon tip; the "business end" of the harpoon). Since we are fashioning our decorative harpoons out of common materials, let it be revealed now, if it had not been earlier inferred, that there will be no further mention of hammer or forge, as our challenge is to fool the eye into believing it sees forged metal where in fact there is none. For our "iron" we will use common "sculpey" or "fimo" plastic clays available from the local crafts emporium. These, of course, are the colorful little malleable blocks that, when formed to ones liking and baked in the oven, harden and retain that form indefinitely. In the photo below, I have kneaded the clay sculpey to make it more pliable, and have begun to fashion part of the shaft around a piece of threaded rod-- available from any hardware store-- to add stability and provide a point of attachment to the longer portion of the shaft. And here the harpoon tip is taking shape nicely. The harpoon tip need not appear perfect at this point; after it is baked it will be further refined using sandpaper. And here it is going into the oven... it will be quite hard and ready for the next steps after 30 minutes or so.Now that the harpoon head has been baked hard, the shaping and "sharpening" can commence using various grits of sandpaper. The harpoon head has been refined using sandpaper, and I am now ready to drill a hole in the longer portion of the shaft, a 2 foot long 3/8 inch diameter wooden dowel.

The hole is the same size as the piece of threaded rod protruding from the harpoon head. Some epoxy adhesive is smeared on the rod and in the hole, and the two pieces are joined and left undisturbed until the epoxy has set.
Now, a little final sanding will probably be necessary to make the seam between the head and shaft as smooth as possible. Also, before we commence with the painting, I would like to mention that our 3/8" dowel is entirely too perfect looking in its store-bought state. The shaft on a real harpoon is made of malleable, hammered iron that was almost always bent completely out of shape after being fastened to a startled and thereafter furious whale. The shaft was intended to bend, and not break under the strain, and if the whale was caught, the harpoon iron would be removed and simply hammered straight again by the ship's blacksmith and then re-used. So, it behooves us, for the sake of our clever reproduction, to take some sandpaper to the wooden dowel shaft and rub in some flat spots and irregularities all around that give the impression of the shaft having been pounded with a hammer. Thusly prepared, then, we can begin painting. I found some nice "antique silver" acrylic paint that, when toned down a bit with a daub of black, and applied in several thin layers, produced the effect of dull metal with a certain aged patina.
Once our iron is painted to our liking, it is time to fasten the shaft onto the pointed end of the harpoon pole we had prepared earlier. This fastening is achieved by drilling a hole into the pointed end of the pole in a size which corresponds to the diameter of the harpoon iron shaft, in this case, 3/8 inch. Epoxy is smeared in the hole and onto the end of the iron shaft, and the shaft is inserted in the hole and left for some time to set up. While we are waiting, I beg you direct your attention to the image below:

On the right is an original, old harpoon iron. You will know, having memorized all of the details of Mr. Lytles informative website, that the shaft of a true harpoon iron is welded onto a split metal cone; the iron thus fashioned is then pulled down tightly over the pointed end of the wooden pole. Since our harpoon is but a clever replica, so must the appearance of this metal cone be replicated cleverly, and that is achieved thusly: a small "skirt" of ragboard has been painted our antique silver color, and is nailed onto the wooden pole in the appropriate position. Once the pointed portion has been wound in marline or cording of some sort, all but the very edge of the "skirt" will be visible, and the eye assumes that the skirt edge is but a smaller part of the whole cone, and the illusion is complete. Below I have begun to wind the pointed portion of the pole in Genuine Stockholm Tarred Hemp Marline style 6/3, which is available from American Rope and Tar. The tarred marline is really wonderful stuff that feels and smells great, but it is not particularly cheap. I simply had to try the marline for myself, but on a previous harpoon, I had used raffia-wound wire that had been varnished a rust color found in the floral arrangement section of my local craft emporium; It cost maybe $1.20 a roll, and a roll was enough to complete at least 2 harpoons. Below is an image of the harpoon wrapped with the craft-store raffia wrap (notice I hadn't employed the "painted sleeve" cone trick on this harpoon). It actually looks very authentic when compared to the old harpoon iron wrapping on the comparison image used previously.
And below is the most recent harpoon wrapped with the Tarred Marline:
And a side by side comparison:
Finally, I acquired from the local hardware store, 8 feet of 1" manilla rope (at 50 cents a foot), wrapped it twice around the shaft and tied that off in an eye splice, which is a sort of braided knot used to splice together 2 pieces of rope. Learn how to do it here. The rope then continues down the pole, attached at 2 points with lengths of the marline or raffia cord as illustrated, and ends with a loop formed by braiding another eye splice.
Finally... our completed harpoon! The one on the right is the model I had crafted earlier bearing the "temple toggle" style harpoon head. I Thank You sincerely for joining me in creating this fine "old" relic, and do hope you will contact me with any comments or questions, should any arise!

Urban Scrimshaw? part 2: Mammoth Ivory!

Another fine form of ivory you will not be able to scavenge in your neighborhood, unless your neighborhood happens to be located in the Yakutia Republic of Russia, is Mammoth Ivory. The frozen ground of this region just south of the Arctic Circle has preserved the remains of millions, perhaps even billions of extinct Woolly Mammoths (Mammuthus primigenius) which roamed the area up until the end of the Pleistocene Era some 10,000 years ago. During summer, the frozen tundra thaws just enough to reveal these ancient treasures to those who know where to look. Mammoth Ivory isn't just a recent commodity; Russian craftspeople have been carving the material into beautiful works of art for years, but thanks to ambitious fossil hunters like Igor G., Mammoth Ivory is finally readily available to crafters and hobbyists in America! This video offers a glimpse into the remote world of mammoth ivory excavations.

I first found out about Igor's business while searching for Mammoth Ivory on Ebay, and couldn't resist bidding on one of his lots of "Mammoth tusk trimmings" which consist of various sizes and shapes of tusk sold by the pound: My 2 pound lot (above) yielded a wonderful array of useful pieces of ancient ivory (detail below)! So what have I done with my Mammoth Ivory? I must admit to being somewhat intimidated by this ancient stuff; I cant help but feel awed by the tremendous age of the pieces, and have been reluctant to do anything other than handle them and ponder life on the tundra thousands of years ago. That said, I did choose some of the finest pieces and buff them well with a bit of beeswax on my dremel buffing wheel and solder brass display mounts for them. Those made fine gifts for the Natural History buffs in my family. I also used a piece to fashion a crude representation of an Eskimo fishing spear: As soon as I feel more comfortable with my scrimshaw skills, I shall certainly like to depict a whaling scene on one of my larger slabs of Mammoth Ivory! The fellow I mentioned in my previous post on piano key ivory, Derrick Cruz, has crafted a limited edition line of Mammoth Ivory straight razors for the gents under the name of his line Black Sheep and Prodigal Sons. Well played, Sir! And finally, if you'd like to learn more about Mammoths and the Mammoth Ivory trade, take a look at this excerpt from the book "Mammoths: Giants of the Ice Age" by Adrian Lister, Paul Bahn, and Jean Auel... fascinating reading! Please check back soon for part 3 of this post addressing the gentle art of scrimshaw! Mammoth Ivory Tusk Tip.

Urban Scrimshaw? Part One...

Driving past a boarded up house one gloomy afternoon I spied on the patio an old upright piano, wet and warped. My "ivory sense" tingled at the prospect that the piano might be old enough to have been fitted with ivory-clad keys rather than plastic. Indeed! Ivory keys, although one might have missed the keys altogether for the layers of dirt and leaves that had accumulated over the keyboard. Now, to address a necessary technicality briefly: The ivory itself is but a thin veneer over a wooden key, so although the piece of ivory is relatively small, bear in mind that there are around 52 of the white keys on a keyboard, so in total we end up with a nice little pile of ivory when the whole thing is stripped! I should also mention that each white key is generally divided into two parts, the area that the finger makes contact with, which yields a thin piece of ivory about 1" x 2" (referred to as a "head") and the long thin part which falls between the black keys, measuring perhaps 1/2" x 4" (referred to as the "tail"). Now some resourceful lad or lass had already taken the "heads" off of this old piano, but no matter; 52 tails is still a nice take! The picture below reveals the missing "heads" and the "tails" which were still affixed (note: this photo was taken retrospectively. I had cleaned the keys before I had the idea to keep things documented, so I placed them back where I had found them and snapped the photo. The dirty looking key in the center is as they were originally found; I had overlooked that one!)

Now a question for the FinderMaker: "Why Ivory?! Didn't an elephant have to die to get that stuff? Ewww!" I am delighted that the question was raised and will now assert that Yes, an elephant probably did die in the 1800's to take the tusk so that this piano could be fitted with ivory keys. Thankfully, the trade of ivory in the US was banned in 1990 (sadly, however, poachers still pursue elephants to supply other global markets for ivory). I abhor the idea of supporting the death of elephants for ivory, but if an elephant gave its life 100 years ago to supply ivory piano keys, I think it is a shame if those ivory piano keys go to waste left out in the weather, or worse yet, end up in a landfill. Honor the elephant by putting those fine old ivory keys to use; make something beautiful! It seems lately that creative folks are doing just that! One such fellow, Derrick Cruz, crafts and markets an exquisite line of jewelry and accessories featuring ivory piano keys under the name "Black Sheep and Prodigal Sons" His pieces are by no means inexpensive, but why should they be? The are wonderfully crafted, and quite unlike anything else on the market. Of course, with a little creativity, and access to an old piano, the ambitious reader can make some fine jewelry or accessories as well! Now, speaking of access to an old piano, gentle reader, they are everywhere! Unwanted pianos are nearly as prolific as old copies of National Geographic, so if you start poking around on craigslist, junkyards, alleys and empty lots, I have confidence that you, too, will find one. I find that by concentrating intensely on things I want to find, eventually I find it (usually just after I've forgotten I wanted it!). If all else fails, visit your local piano repairperson, who may have a box of old ivories they'd be willing to let you cull from for a nominal fee. Generally, piano key ivory can be popped off the keys without much effort using a knife-tip. Stubborn keys can be lifted by heating with a blow drier or heat gun set on low; this softens up the adhesive greatly and makes removal a snap. Although the keys I found were very dirty, they cleaned up nicely with a bit of mild soap and warm water. The upper 1/4 inch of mine had stained red from contact with part of the felted hammer mechanism; as I found this unappealing, I stacked them all up, bound them tightly with tape and cut off that portion of all of them en masse on the band saw.
This photo shows the keyboard stripped. I also took the black keys, which are carved of dense ebony wood which is black all the way through. I don't yet have a project in mind for them, but ebony is a nice wood that finds use in various inlay and decorative projects, and is certainly worth having on hand! In Part Two of this post, I'll touch upon "Mammoth Ivory" and introduce the gentle art of Scrimshaw...