glimmers

in

Fun morning of playing with my electric metal shears and cutting up bits and bobs for the WIP, a prototype for something else (see: this week's earlier Replicate post for why I'm considering most of my metal things prototypes) with occasional glimmers of the writer coming out to play as I pick at the WIP over on that side of The Shed. Acceptance that my primary method is to go do other things while things percolate until a line or phrase shows up that fits and then bang the whole thing out while ignoring the guilt of not going about things the way I used to (because, clearly, that worked out oh so well). Out into society for a bit today, society being a waiting room and a book store and maybe an antique mall. Status: fit for public consumption, more or less.

metalshack complete

in

Fought the icemud which is now just mud mud and put a new, vinyl roof on MetalShack (because the original one didn't survive last night's freezing rain, much to my welding table's dismay; oh well, it's seen worse), put up the rest of the flame-retardant curtains, and used the remaining vinyl roofing to line the inside of the ceiling. Pretty sure The Shed's protected from my spark-inciting passion, so now I can get back to play. It isn't pretty - nor is gold my jam - but it'll do the job.

metalshack!
metalshack!

icemud

in

Morning's ice has given way to mud again though I did get to experience walking on icy mud which was certainly an experience but anyhow it seems that the key to making the writing part of The Shed as creatively appealing to me as the workshop side is to lock the desk at standing height so that I can pace to my quasi-beating heart's content: clearly, the lapsed percussionist of 20 years ago remains a steadfast part in position if not in performance – and besides, I always have Derbz's chair should I need to take the proverbial load off but only if he's not in The Shed with me because that's HIS chair, whether I'm in it or not.