Here's an interesting question for you guys. What happens when Havok get bored?
Well yes, he rots in a chair watching TV. Usually.
But occasionally, he gets an urge to do something creative. Such an urge happened over the weekend, with interesting results.
This is rebar wire, a type of heavy industrial wire used to tie steel bars together (or something like that, my teacher mentioned it but I wasn't paying much attention).
(http://www.metals-b2b.com/b2b/pics/Rebar_Tie_Wire.jpg)
Now, let's boredom and lots of time to the mix. This is what we get:
(http://img268.imageshack.us/img268/8841/dsc05266.jpg)
I got the original idea from my avatar, and kind of took it from there.
The figure (Victory) stands 10 inches tall (by himself, he's balanced), has an 8 inch wingspan (~1 foot if you follow the arch of his wings), and a head the size of a walnut. He's pose-able to some degree (his limbs can bend) and he's made of one continuous piece of wire (probably around 300 or 400 feet long, I didn't measure).
Here's some video:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gJ7vBFaI6YA&feature=channel_page (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gJ7vBFaI6YA&feature=channel_page)
Here's some of the past work I've done with wire sculpture.
(http://img4.imageshack.us/img4/5642/img1989h.jpg) (http://img4.imageshack.us/my.php?image=img1989h.jpg)
(http://img9.imageshack.us/img9/3944/img1991bne.jpg) (http://img9.imageshack.us/my.php?image=img1991bne.jpg)
(http://img9.imageshack.us/img9/6868/img1993q.jpg) (http://img9.imageshack.us/my.php?image=img1993q.jpg)
Wire Mage:
(http://img17.imageshack.us/img17/7597/img1994g.jpg) (http://img17.imageshack.us/my.php?image=img1994g.jpg)
Death:
(http://img7.imageshack.us/img7/84/img1996dgg.jpg) (http://img7.imageshack.us/my.php?image=img1996dgg.jpg)
(http://img5.imageshack.us/img5/2177/img1997j.jpg) (http://img5.imageshack.us/my.php?image=img1997j.jpg)
those are cute
I totally like those.
Sweet. I'm taking a character sculpting class next term. We use wire-wrap bases and push clay into it and scult the fine detail into that.
Thanks for the inspiration.
THOSE are cool. Very nicely done.
yeah, cool stuff!
Those figures look like they'd be great for stop-motion animation
Quote from: Cramulus on May 22, 2009, 04:39:59 PM
yeah, cool stuff!
Those figures look like they'd be great for a TOOL video
fixed.
I kid. I kid.
Seriously though, those look pretty cool. good work.
Wireframe roses that I made for my mother as a Christmas present:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yQma_3Yr978 (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yQma_3Yr978)
I made two of them, the one in the video was the one that turned out better.
Loving these! I imagined the first ones moving! :D
Very nice, Havok! I'm embarassed I didn't see this sooner. Do you jsut start bending and see where it goes, or plan out in advance what you're fixing to make?
every once in a while a thread makes me glad I checked "bring n brag" this month.
this is that thread. good stuff!
Quote from: Richter on June 01, 2009, 05:35:55 PM
Very nice, Havok! I'm embarassed I didn't see this sooner. Do you jsut start bending and see where it goes, or plan out in advance what you're fixing to make?
I have to plan it out in advance. The wire starts in the (future) figure's chest, with a straight section (~2 inches) for it's chest/neck before being wrapped around a paper ball. Once the right amount of wire for the head is wound, I wind back down the neck and remove the paper ball. I then have a straight section down to his crotch, bend, and let out the right amount for his legs. A simple loop begins the foot, then it's back up the leg and onto the next one. Same procedure for the arms.
Lots of care goes into making sure all the limbs are in proportion to everything else :horrormirth:
By a near miracle, my first wire figure came out with near-perfect limb-torso-head proportions, so I've used him as measuring stick for all the subsequent figures.
Because they're made of wire they're fully posable (and reposable, if you get bored of their pose), and can assume all of the positions that the human body can. And lots of positions that the human body can't :wink:
Next time I do one of these, I'll be sure to make a video for you guys.
Totally forgot about this one, actually. It's my first attempt at a non-human figure: I think it turned out pretty good.
(http://img41.imageshack.us/img41/1931/dsc05269.jpg)
(http://img195.imageshack.us/img195/3413/dsc05268.jpg)
BUMPITY
Also, new sculpture:
(http://img19.imageshack.us/img19/8749/img2788j.jpg)
Video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rFG-wsCXvQQ (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rFG-wsCXvQQ)
This one is based on Starbuck's pebbles, and the idea that different patterns can be seen by different people. More specifically, that a symbol for Order is the pentagon, with a pentagram representing disorder.
The outer frame of the sculpture consists or 20 equal sides, with each face being a pentagon. Inside is a tangle of wires crisscrossing themselves and anchoring to the outer frame. The interior wires appear random at first, but on closer inspection you can see that they trace the outlines of stars (pentagrams). Check it out in the Youtube video. There are 6 different stars within the frame, and each wire belongs to only one star.
Ultimately, the outer frame represents Order and the inner tangle represents disorder. Therefore there is disorder within order, and vice versa. The disorder needs the framework of order to survive, yet it carries order within itself.
These are all awesome. I love how you can see different faces in the figures as your mind fills in the blanks.
Threads in Bring and Brag are generally masturbatory horseshit, this one is alright though.
:mittens:
Expect moar better ones in the near future: I'm making everyone in my family a personalized sculpture for Christmas.
Alright, this is the first Christmas sculpture. I made this one for my mom, who is an elementary teacher (Grade 3-4).
(http://img188.imageshack.us/img188/4628/img3084ev.jpg)
(http://img229.imageshack.us/img229/6425/img3085p.jpg)
(http://img85.imageshack.us/img85/9045/img3086xe.jpg)
(http://img191.imageshack.us/img191/6624/img3087i.jpg)
It includes a painted wooden plaque (the spiral of silver is centred around the teacher's chair) and hand-made props (chair and table were cut from plywood and painted/glued together. I even did a pencil and paper.
The teacher figure is distinguished by her neck-length hair, which was a bit experimental and didn't go perfectly. The child is sized more or less proportionately, although the hands are a bit big.
awesome!
Christmas present #2: for my sister this time. She's big into horses, so:
(http://img690.imageshack.us/img690/4059/img3091y.jpg)
(http://img535.imageshack.us/img535/5307/img3093.jpg)
(http://img32.imageshack.us/img32/3473/img3094r.jpg)
(http://img690.imageshack.us/img690/4059/img3091y.jpg)
(http://img10.imageshack.us/img10/1169/img3092a.jpg)
It's the first time I've tried a horse, but it went under the same principles/methods I used to make human figures. I made loops for the mane and tail, then cut them later with wirecutters to form the individual strands of "hair". The horse is proportioned correctly (I used an online guide, and my sister confirmed later on) and also has such details as a mouth, eyes, nostrils, ears, and hooves. The person's hat is glued on with hot glue, and the horse is nailed down (tenuously) with staples.
Wow. :aaa:
:mittens:
That is freaking sick!!
:mittens:
Wow Remington, you're getting better and better at this!! Keep it up :mittens:
Holy shit this is awesome stuff, Remmy! Thanks for the pix!
For my GF:
(http://img130.imageshack.us/img130/2361/dsc06268v.jpg)
(http://img691.imageshack.us/img691/3127/dsc06266a.jpg)
(http://img10.imageshack.us/img10/3135/dsc06267ox.jpg)
As always, one piece of wire.
For my dad, who is a major Ford fan:
(http://img717.imageshack.us/img717/9483/dsc06262x.jpg)
(http://img694.imageshack.us/img694/7255/dsc06263g.jpg)
(http://img52.imageshack.us/img52/2726/dsc06264.jpg)
The letter and frame were made separately, and one of his co-workers helped me by welding the letters in place.
Roger/Dok Howl has the last piece I did, and unfortunately I don't have any pictures of it. The only solution is to pester him until he posts pics.
That's cute!
Remington, PM thatgreengentleman, and my daughter will hound me mercilessly until I remember to do it.
Quote from: Doktor Howl on February 12, 2010, 07:47:34 PM
Remington, PM thatgreengentleman, and my daughter will hound me mercilessly until I remember to do it.
Done.
I also recommended that she replace your peelz with laxative.
Remington's Christmas gift to me:
(http://i476.photobucket.com/albums/rr126/TGRR/remington001.jpg)
(http://i476.photobucket.com/albums/rr126/TGRR/remington002.jpg)
Holy shit.
:mittens:
So awesome. Rem I would kill a motherfucker for one of these. Have you considered selling them?
Thanks, Dok.
Quote from: EoC on March 07, 2010, 05:15:31 PM
So awesome. Rem I would kill a motherfucker for one of these. Have you considered selling them?
I've considered it, yeah. Maybe once the farmer's market starts up in summer.
If you'd like, though, I could make and send some out for minimal price ($10 plus cost of shipping, perhaps?). PM me if you're interested, I'd be willing to do commissions.
Quote from: Remington on March 07, 2010, 06:07:21 PM
Thanks, Dok.
Quote from: EoC on March 07, 2010, 05:15:31 PM
So awesome. Rem I would kill a motherfucker for one of these. Have you considered selling them?
I've considered it, yeah. Maybe once the farmer's market starts up in summer.
If you'd like, though, I could make and send some out for minimal price ($10 plus cost of shipping, perhaps?). PM me if you're interested, I'd be willing to do commissions.
Sell 'em online. Charge a bunch.
Quote from: Doktor Howl on March 07, 2010, 06:26:23 PM
Quote from: Remington on March 07, 2010, 06:07:21 PM
Thanks, Dok.
Quote from: EoC on March 07, 2010, 05:15:31 PM
So awesome. Rem I would kill a motherfucker for one of these. Have you considered selling them?
I've considered it, yeah. Maybe once the farmer's market starts up in summer.
If you'd like, though, I could make and send some out for minimal price ($10 plus cost of shipping, perhaps?). PM me if you're interested, I'd be willing to do commissions.
Sell 'em online. Charge a bunch.
Yeah, this. Start up an Etsy account or something. I greatly appreciate the offer for a commission but really if I can afford what you're asking then you're asking too little.
Not that I wouldn't take that price. :wink:
They are damn awesome!
Ooo would you make one shaped like a love heart? :oops:
damn these are all so much better than the sculpture in my school's art department. So many people lose their creativity and talent when they get the conceptual rash.
That is such a perfect piece of sculpture for Rog, too!
I'd be interested in commissioning one. Would you consider doing one of a dude with a guitar?
Quote from: Jenne on March 09, 2010, 02:22:18 PM
That is such a perfect piece of sculpture for Rog, too!
I'd be interested in commissioning one. Would you consider doing one of a dude with a guitar?
Sure, I'll get started on Thursday.
Any other details or specifications?
Quote from: NotPublished on March 08, 2010, 10:22:39 AM
They are damn awesome!
Ooo would you make one shaped like a love heart? :oops:
Thanks!
I'm not quite sure how a heart would work. I could make a 2-d one, but that's almost too simple.
Nope! I will leave it up to you about acoustic vs. electric! :D Awesomeness!
Rebar Man
In the woods of Maine there stands an old farmhouse. It's near a lake and has long been abandoned.
The windows are shattered.
The shingles are shredded.
The paint and wallpaper are peeling from the walls.
Piles of old garbage and broken furnishings litter the interior. And on the second floor, up a creaky old set of stairs, there once sat a man made of wire on a plain wooden table gouged and worn from the years.
The wire man knew a family once. He knew the people who placed him on that table and the man who created him. He knew the fresh strong feeling of the new rebar wire that made him.
Then one day there was a fire. His family was away and the farmhouse still stood, but they never returned.
The Rebar Man waited for a long time. A year went by and nobody came. People began to explore the old farmhouse. They were kids who were curious and young adults who were bored. To many of them the Rebar Man went unnoticed. Some few picked him up, some fewer spoke slow words he did not know, and all set him back on his table when they left. These were the greatest moments of his existence.
While he waited, and he always waited, he looked down the hallway to the window outside. He would see snow and rain, he would see the leaves changing colors and the cars passing by. But his favorite times were when he saw sunlight.
Time moves slowly for the man made of wire. One day, five years after the fire, a rock was thrown through the window. It took him two months to be surprised and to know the glass lay broken. That was the day he decided to reach the sunlight.
He was made to stand, it would seem, but not to walk. For one month did he step forward, for one second did he fall, and for some time longer did he realize it. But the window was closer.
Two years it took the Rebar Man to fall from the table and two months to right himself from his back. But the window was closer.
Again and again he saw the snow and rain, the leaves changing colors and cars passing by. Again and again he felt when the air went moist, when something began happening to his wire. He slowly rusted. But the window was closer.
Patches of orange-brown flakes were about him after three years. He was halfway to the window. A small group of people came to the house and searched its rotting shell. They stomped on decrepit floor boards and gazed upon fire wrecked fixtures. They took to the stairs and stood before the window. They stepped on the Rebar Man's right arm and leg, dragging him a little before realizing it. They left. His right side was crushed and moved poorly. And the window was further away.
Five years passed. He felt the tremors of visitors cautiously looking about before leaving the old house. Few came near him, none disturbed him. He was covered in rust. But the window was closer.
The rust grew thick. His movements became slower. From his hand first touching the light cast from the window til his body rested entirely within it four months passed. He rolled onto his back with some time and gazed up. The window was there. But it rained on him.
The next day he felt little. He was rusted and bent oddly. He cracked and broke in places. But the sun shone that day and he basked in its light.
Then the man made of wire knew no more.
:mittens: to recent work!
Quote from: EoC on March 09, 2010, 07:02:25 PM
Rebar Man
In the woods of Maine there stands an old farmhouse. It's near a lake and has long been abandoned.
The windows are shattered.
The shingles are shredded.
The paint and wallpaper are peeling from the walls.
Piles of old garbage and broken furnishings litter the interior. And on the second floor, up a creaky old set of stairs, there once sat a man made of wire on a plain wooden table gouged and worn from the years.
The wire man knew a family once. He knew the people who placed him on that table and the man who created him. He knew the fresh strong feeling of the new rebar wire that made him.
Then one day there was a fire. His family was away and the farmhouse still stood, but they never returned.
The Rebar Man waited for a long time. A year went by and nobody came. People began to explore the old farmhouse. They were kids who were curious and young adults who were bored. To many of them the Rebar Man went unnoticed. Some few picked him up, some fewer spoke slow words he did not know, and all set him back on his table when they left. These were the greatest moments of his existence.
While he waited, and he always waited, he looked down the hallway to the window outside. He would see snow and rain, he would see the leaves changing colors and the cars passing by. But his favorite times were when he saw sunlight.
Time moves slowly for the man made of wire. One day, five years after the fire, a rock was thrown through the window. It took him two months to be surprised and to know the glass lay broken. That was the day he decided to reach the sunlight.
He was made to stand, it would seem, but not to walk. For one month did he step forward, for one second did he fall, and for some time longer did he realize it. But the window was closer.
Two years it took the Rebar Man to fall from the table and two months to right himself from his back. But the window was closer.
Again and again he saw the snow and rain, the leaves changing colors and cars passing by. Again and again he felt when the air went moist, when something began happening to his wire. He slowly rusted. But the window was closer.
Patches of orange-brown flakes were about him after three years. He was halfway to the window. A small group of people came to the house and searched its rotting shell. They stomped on decrepit floor boards and gazed upon fire wrecked fixtures. They took to the stairs and stood before the window. They stepped on the Rebar Man's right arm and leg, dragging him a little before realizing it. They left. His right side was crushed and moved poorly. And the window was further away.
Five years passed. He felt the tremors of visitors cautiously looking about before leaving the old house. Few came near him, none disturbed him. He was covered in rust. But the window was closer.
The rust grew thick. His movements became slower. From his hand first touching the light cast from the window til his body rested entirely within it four months passed. He rolled onto his back with some time and gazed up. The window was there. But it rained on him.
The next day he felt little. He was rusted and bent oddly. He cracked and broke in places. But the sun shone that day and he basked in its light.
Then the man made of wire knew no more.
:mittens: to this too. Somewhere between Silent Hill imagery wise, and mono no aware.
Quote from: EoC on March 09, 2010, 07:02:25 PM
Rebar Man
In the woods of Maine there stands an old farmhouse. It's near a lake and has long been abandoned.
The windows are shattered.
The shingles are shredded.
The paint and wallpaper are peeling from the walls.
Piles of old garbage and broken furnishings litter the interior. And on the second floor, up a creaky old set of stairs, there once sat a man made of wire on a plain wooden table gouged and worn from the years.
The wire man knew a family once. He knew the people who placed him on that table and the man who created him. He knew the fresh strong feeling of the new rebar wire that made him.
Then one day there was a fire. His family was away and the farmhouse still stood, but they never returned.
The Rebar Man waited for a long time. A year went by and nobody came. People began to explore the old farmhouse. They were kids who were curious and young adults who were bored. To many of them the Rebar Man went unnoticed. Some few picked him up, some fewer spoke slow words he did not know, and all set him back on his table when they left. These were the greatest moments of his existence.
While he waited, and he always waited, he looked down the hallway to the window outside. He would see snow and rain, he would see the leaves changing colors and the cars passing by. But his favorite times were when he saw sunlight.
Time moves slowly for the man made of wire. One day, five years after the fire, a rock was thrown through the window. It took him two months to be surprised and to know the glass lay broken. That was the day he decided to reach the sunlight.
He was made to stand, it would seem, but not to walk. For one month did he step forward, for one second did he fall, and for some time longer did he realize it. But the window was closer.
Two years it took the Rebar Man to fall from the table and two months to right himself from his back. But the window was closer.
Again and again he saw the snow and rain, the leaves changing colors and cars passing by. Again and again he felt when the air went moist, when something began happening to his wire. He slowly rusted. But the window was closer.
Patches of orange-brown flakes were about him after three years. He was halfway to the window. A small group of people came to the house and searched its rotting shell. They stomped on decrepit floor boards and gazed upon fire wrecked fixtures. They took to the stairs and stood before the window. They stepped on the Rebar Man's right arm and leg, dragging him a little before realizing it. They left. His right side was crushed and moved poorly. And the window was further away.
Five years passed. He felt the tremors of visitors cautiously looking about before leaving the old house. Few came near him, none disturbed him. He was covered in rust. But the window was closer.
The rust grew thick. His movements became slower. From his hand first touching the light cast from the window til his body rested entirely within it four months passed. He rolled onto his back with some time and gazed up. The window was there. But it rained on him.
The next day he felt little. He was rusted and bent oddly. He cracked and broke in places. But the sun shone that day and he basked in its light.
Then the man made of wire knew no more.
:mittens: to this! I love your writing style!
Wow. Great work, EoC. Remmy, you were thinking of stop-motion film of the rebarmen, this would be an awesome screenplay.
Quote from: EoC on March 09, 2010, 07:02:25 PM
Rebar Man
In the woods of Maine there stands an old farmhouse. It's near a lake and has long been abandoned.
The windows are shattered.
The shingles are shredded.
The paint and wallpaper are peeling from the walls.
Piles of old garbage and broken furnishings litter the interior. And on the second floor, up a creaky old set of stairs, there once sat a man made of wire on a plain wooden table gouged and worn from the years.
The wire man knew a family once. He knew the people who placed him on that table and the man who created him. He knew the fresh strong feeling of the new rebar wire that made him.
Then one day there was a fire. His family was away and the farmhouse still stood, but they never returned.
The Rebar Man waited for a long time. A year went by and nobody came. People began to explore the old farmhouse. They were kids who were curious and young adults who were bored. To many of them the Rebar Man went unnoticed. Some few picked him up, some fewer spoke slow words he did not know, and all set him back on his table when they left. These were the greatest moments of his existence.
While he waited, and he always waited, he looked down the hallway to the window outside. He would see snow and rain, he would see the leaves changing colors and the cars passing by. But his favorite times were when he saw sunlight.
Time moves slowly for the man made of wire. One day, five years after the fire, a rock was thrown through the window. It took him two months to be surprised and to know the glass lay broken. That was the day he decided to reach the sunlight.
He was made to stand, it would seem, but not to walk. For one month did he step forward, for one second did he fall, and for some time longer did he realize it. But the window was closer.
Two years it took the Rebar Man to fall from the table and two months to right himself from his back. But the window was closer.
Again and again he saw the snow and rain, the leaves changing colors and cars passing by. Again and again he felt when the air went moist, when something began happening to his wire. He slowly rusted. But the window was closer.
Patches of orange-brown flakes were about him after three years. He was halfway to the window. A small group of people came to the house and searched its rotting shell. They stomped on decrepit floor boards and gazed upon fire wrecked fixtures. They took to the stairs and stood before the window. They stepped on the Rebar Man's right arm and leg, dragging him a little before realizing it. They left. His right side was crushed and moved poorly. And the window was further away.
Five years passed. He felt the tremors of visitors cautiously looking about before leaving the old house. Few came near him, none disturbed him. He was covered in rust. But the window was closer.
The rust grew thick. His movements became slower. From his hand first touching the light cast from the window til his body rested entirely within it four months passed. He rolled onto his back with some time and gazed up. The window was there. But it rained on him.
The next day he felt little. He was rusted and bent oddly. He cracked and broke in places. But the sun shone that day and he basked in its light.
Then the man made of wire knew no more.
That was really beautiful.
:oops:
I didn't mean to threadjack Rem, I just got this idea based on his work and I was excited about the prospect of a commission.
Jenne, now that you mention it I can see that as a stop motion short.
I can't really take credit for the imagery, I actually went to that farmhouse when I visited Maine in November. Fire did hit it and the family pretty much abandoned it (we were staying at the cabin nearby of one of the family members). I just put Rem's wire man in it. Then again, maybe it was already there, and maybe I stepped on him and didn't notice.
Quote from: Jenne on March 09, 2010, 07:35:33 PM
Wow. Great work, EoC. Remmy, you were thinking of stop-motion film of the rebarmen, this would be an awesome screenplay.
Awesome, now I have
two ideas for stop-motion screenplays!
I'm so impressed with your art, Remington. These are super cool. You make me want to get started on some projects of my own.
Next up:
(http://img401.imageshack.us/img401/3417/img3095h.jpg)
(http://img294.imageshack.us/img294/3239/img3097m.jpg)
(http://img30.imageshack.us/img30/1273/img3096o.jpg)
(http://img201.imageshack.us/img201/9275/img3098.jpg)
(http://img132.imageshack.us/img132/9062/img3099j.jpg)
I quickly found out that these ones are a lot harder to do than the standard human figures. Much more complexity.
Wow. You're getting better at these.
Your proportions are improving nicely.
Quote from: StoreBrand on March 20, 2010, 10:45:45 PM
Your proportions are improving nicely.
Thanks.
Believe it or not, this last one was modeled on the proportions of the very first. For some reason, after the first one the torsos kept getting longer (until I got a really long one like Roger's).
Right, next up.
This was the piece that Jenne commissioned for Father's Day. Two pieces, one with a singer/guitarist, and one with a solo rock musician. I tried a new hairstyle and made a mic/stand out of wire and guitars out of plywood:
Gallery (http://img710.imageshack.us/g/dsc06406h.jpg/)
(http://img340.imageshack.us/img340/8554/dsc06413b.jpg)
(http://img714.imageshack.us/img714/5602/dsc06409p.jpg)
(http://img710.imageshack.us/img710/351/dsc06406h.jpg)
(http://img704.imageshack.us/img704/9494/dsc06415l.jpg)
(http://img685.imageshack.us/img685/5415/dsc06418i.jpg)
(http://img710.imageshack.us/img710/1323/dsc06407vw.jpg)
(http://img534.imageshack.us/img534/4528/dsc06410l.jpg)
(http://img266.imageshack.us/img266/7417/dsc06408p.jpg)
Eater of Clowns is up next: his is ready to ship any day now. It's based on the amazing short story he wrote.
Looks great! Also the hairstyle thing works really well!
My lil bros are gonna love these! They are awesomeness supremo, Remmie. THANK YOU!!
Moar, from Eater of Clown's private commission. He wanted a piece that went with his awesome story:
Quote from: Eater of Clowns on March 09, 2010, 07:02:25 PM
Rebar Man
In the woods of Maine there stands an old farmhouse. It's near a lake and has long been abandoned.
The windows are shattered.
The shingles are shredded.
The paint and wallpaper are peeling from the walls.
Piles of old garbage and broken furnishings litter the interior. And on the second floor, up a creaky old set of stairs, there once sat a man made of wire on a plain wooden table gouged and worn from the years.
The wire man knew a family once. He knew the people who placed him on that table and the man who created him. He knew the fresh strong feeling of the new rebar wire that made him.
Then one day there was a fire. His family was away and the farmhouse still stood, but they never returned.
The Rebar Man waited for a long time. A year went by and nobody came. People began to explore the old farmhouse. They were kids who were curious and young adults who were bored. To many of them the Rebar Man went unnoticed. Some few picked him up, some fewer spoke slow words he did not know, and all set him back on his table when they left. These were the greatest moments of his existence.
While he waited, and he always waited, he looked down the hallway to the window outside. He would see snow and rain, he would see the leaves changing colors and the cars passing by. But his favorite times were when he saw sunlight.
Time moves slowly for the man made of wire. One day, five years after the fire, a rock was thrown through the window. It took him two months to be surprised and to know the glass lay broken. That was the day he decided to reach the sunlight.
He was made to stand, it would seem, but not to walk. For one month did he step forward, for one second did he fall, and for some time longer did he realize it. But the window was closer.
Two years it took the Rebar Man to fall from the table and two months to right himself from his back. But the window was closer.
Again and again he saw the snow and rain, the leaves changing colors and cars passing by. Again and again he felt when the air went moist, when something began happening to his wire. He slowly rusted. But the window was closer.
Patches of orange-brown flakes were about him after three years. He was halfway to the window. A small group of people came to the house and searched its rotting shell. They stomped on decrepit floor boards and gazed upon fire wrecked fixtures. They took to the stairs and stood before the window. They stepped on the Rebar Man's right arm and leg, dragging him a little before realizing it. They left. His right side was crushed and moved poorly. And the window was further away.
Five years passed. He felt the tremors of visitors cautiously looking about before leaving the old house. Few came near him, none disturbed him. He was covered in rust. But the window was closer.
The rust grew thick. His movements became slower. From his hand first touching the light cast from the window til his body rested entirely within it four months passed. He rolled onto his back with some time and gazed up. The window was there. But it rained on him.
The next day he felt little. He was rusted and bent oddly. He cracked and broke in places. But the sun shone that day and he basked in its light.
Then the man made of wire knew no more.
(http://img688.imageshack.us/img688/522/dsc00001aq.jpg)
(http://img405.imageshack.us/img405/7449/dsc00002xh.jpg)
(http://img716.imageshack.us/img716/5884/dsc00006nq.jpg)
Quote from: Remington on June 10, 2010, 06:53:52 PM
(http://img716.imageshack.us/img716/5884/dsc00006nq.jpg)
This shot - wow! I wonder how long before the rust wins?
That might actually take forever, with some metals the rust forms a layer on outside, preventing oxygen from reacting with the inner unoxydized metal.
I am SO impressed. :mittens:
Remington went to an art show! He made the moneys!
All in all I sold off 4 pieces, and got one commission. My first angel sculpture, the mage one, and the abstract "Chaos" figure all sold for $35 apiece. The woman who bought the abstract one was apparently really into mathematical Chaos theory and said that the sculpture happened to be an excellent demonstration/example of concepts she had wrote on in dissertation. I slipped her a card with PD's URL on it :evil:
Quote from: Remington on August 23, 2010, 05:33:27 AM
Remington went to an art show! He made the moneys!
All in all I sold off 4 pieces, and got one commission. My first angel sculpture, the mage one, and the abstract "Chaos" figure all sold for $35 apiece. The woman who bought the abstract one was apparently really into mathematical Chaos theory and said that the sculpture happened to be an excellent demonstration/example of concepts she had wrote on in dissertation. I slipped her a card with PD's URL on it :evil:
:mittens:
That's wonderful, Remington!
: D
Huzzah!