Daniel Boone and Art Deco

Today I went to see Bill Allen, a blacksmith out in Clarksburg, Maryland. Wedged in between a few hills his red barn and smith shop prominently stuck out. As he came out to greet me he was looking around the car as if he was expecting another person. It's because he was; he was expecting my daughter. Somewhere in my phone call from Starbucks yesterday, over the sounds of blenders and GW students chatting, I guess it sounded like I wanted to bring my daughter.

Instead, I showed him my baby, my new 50$ pole vise. He said it looked good, with a little bit of love and care it could be restored to something like new.

Bill has been blacksmithing for fourteen years. He was first introduced to blacksmithing at a crafts fair where Dan Boone (a descendant of the Daniel Boone) had set up a portable smithy and was demonstrating how to create a dragon's head out of metal. Bill began asking questions and Dan eventually pointed him in the direction of his local chapter of ABANA. From there on out Bill took some classes and taught himself.

What I have found is that a basic knowledge in all things welding proves to be an invaluable skill. Most of Bill's joinery is done through welding. He has been welding since 1970, at least that is the date he purchased the oxyacetylene torch now sitting in his shop.

Tomorrow I'll be visiting Tim Beachley in Fredrick, Maryland. According to Bill, Tim is relatively young but really growing as a blacksmith.

Because I don't have any new pictures, here are some pictures of ironwork in Savannah that I never got to share:


I believe it fitting that SCAD building have a hand forged railing. One is able to tell that the railing was made by forge and hammer because the scrolls aren't symmetrical.

This picture is a little bit blurry but you are still able to see the detail that fascinated me. The fact is that in a city where all the architecture is stuck in the 19th century, this home-owner was able to install Art Deco inspired iron work.

Savannah to DC

Last Saturday, after a presentation by the SCAD admissions staff on how to create a portfolio I had the option of staying in Savannah for one more night. In fact, at the Savannah Pension, I had pre-paid to stay another night. I chose to leave.

Not only was I the only one staying in the Savannah Pension, but I started to realize that for forty dollars (or even ten more) I could have been staying in a place where the beds had sheets and the the owner didn't make it seem as if I was inconveniencing him by staying there. There was also the thing where he wouldn't refund me the money for Saturday night. Out of the forty I paid to stay in the "hostel," he gave me ten dollars back for "lunch." (Lunch would actually run me 11.80.) After the presentation I took off for familiar ground at the NotSo Hostel in Charleston, South Carolina.

The next day I drove for Virginia Beach. The picture I saw of Angie's Sea Side Hostel made it look as if it was set against the ocean in a sea of other small cottages. I expected something like a respite, a place that would help one find center and restore the creative juices. Little did I know that Virginia Beach is the self-proclaimed "largest resort-city in the world," and Angie's place was smack dab in the middle of it.



Sitting on a bench along the sea-sidewalk, I watched what seemed like hundreds of people walk by. I don't think I've ever been to a place so ripe for people watching, not even New York. In a few weeks I can see this place being flooded with kids indulging in the MTV spring break experience.

At the moment I am residing in Crystal City, Arlington, and after watching the season premier of Breaking Bad last night, all I can wonder about is if this city's name represents its drug of choice.

Walking the Trolley Route

Yesterday morning I grabbed a Savannah Trolley Tour brochure. Inside they had the path by which they were to show Savannah and so instead of paying 22 dollars I somewhat followed the tour on foot, for free.

I passed through River Street and saw the statue of the Girl in the Wind. Most of the bars and tourist traps were already displaying St. Patrick's day fare, including but not limited to "I got Riverfaced on Shit St. in Savannah on St. Patrick's Day" T-shirts. Not that anyone sober would actually buy that shirt. They also turned the water green in Forsythe Park:


With a few hours till I could get back into the hostel, I decided to spend a some time with the other sun-worshipers on the lawn of the park. Later I walked to a gallery opening. The gallery was displaying Wynne Hodges' Luminous Oak exhibit. Wynne Hodges is a professor at SCAD who learned blacksmithing at the John C. Campbell Folk School and created chandeliers inspired by the twisting, turning, and looming oaks of Savannah:


I talked with her for a little and she turned out to be a very down to earth art-professor. She does not worry herself with the craft vs art debate and instead makes things that satisfy her artistic passion and possibly the appetites of potential buyers. Thus she creates functional art.

After the gallery I was invited by a Parisian, who I friended in the NotSo Hostel, to a concert that his friend was putting on. It turns out his friend was in a production called Seeing Sound where a small pit orchestra provides the inspiration for artists to paint in real time before a crowd. I think I enjoyed the music more so than the painting.

On each of the blank pieces the artists put masking tape in intersecting lines and patterns. I originally thought they would wait to pull off the tape till the very end thus exposing strict uninhibited straight lines in a piece of commotion and inspired strokes, dabs, splatters and sprays. However, they took off the tape half way through and ruined what I thought were to be works of art. And then there was the artist's painting on the far right, it looked like she was trying to capture the essence of vomit, with an ice scraper.

Being able to spend some more time talking with Jean-Luc was good. He's an artist himself and works two days a week in Paris selling "ghetto-clothes" to discoteque-going-teens and other young people. What I found most entertaining is he thought that when Americans talked they sort of sounded like Charlie Brown's teacher.

Savannah Take Two

I drove down on 17 from Charleston to Savannah yesterday with my windows open. Today I am wearing shorts and shorts sleeves and already, it feels like 60 something.

Yesterday was not nearly as nice, warm in the sun and cool in the shade. The park is already green, the flowers are flowering and the spirit feels somewhat lifted not to have the burden of a slow transition from late winter to spring to summer:

Savannah has it, the perfect layout. Victorian houses surrounding beautiful square parks. And if you don't live on Forsythe Park or another one, you're only a small walk away. I can see myself spending some time on a bench today.

I looked into SCAD yesterday and found that they have a penchant for taking over old religious buildings and turning them into student work space (i.e. the Scot Rite Temple and the old Synagogue). But truthfully, its like the RISD of the south. After my tour I set out to talk with Prof. Huang of the Architecture department. A case of bad directions and thirty minutes later I found the architecture building, a security officer who is going to pray for my acceptance into the college, and a realization that architecture might not be for me. A fact that was disclosed to me was that most Architecture majors who graduated last year have been laid off. I suppose that makes sense seeing as how the housing market has been having a few ups and downs.

I should get off of this coffee-house couch and see Savannah.