Senior Projects

It's getting down to the wire for my high school senior. 10 more days, and he's done with school. Being an artsy type (Don't know where he gets that from), his senior project involved building an electric guitar. From scratch. (Probably because I'm too cheap to buy him a Les Paul of his own, he decided to make a Les Paul style guitar.)

It sounds intimidating to me, but... he already built one for his 4-H project, so it was not a big deal to him. Even though I'm an artist, it amazes me to see wood go from this:

to this:

I can relate to it as sculpture, because of the wood carving, the mother of pearl fret inlays, and the awesome lacquer job.

New skills obtained - learning to use a jigsaw and a router. Luckily, Dad was on hand to show him the ropes with power tools. I'm a hand tool kind of girl.

The rosewood fretboard really took it out of my hand carving tools. Gave me a good excuse to upgrade my tools for woodblock printmaking... and tell Son One to get his own set.

But the electronics were a bit over my head. Senior son was not flummoxed, however. His theory was that if he knew how electric guitars were made, he'd know how to repair and upgrade them. He also learned a valuable lesson. A little Gorilla glue goes a long way...


We estimated he put about 200 hours into building the first guitar, and about half that into the second. Mahogany body and neck, flame-maple top, rosewood fretboard, mother of pearl inlays.

I liked it just as it was shown here, a splash of clearcoat and I would have been happy, but the guitar was due a Cherry Sunburst lacquer finish

and that was what it got. It's even more spiffy looking in person, pictures don't do it justice.

So with the addition of the two hand-built electric guitars, the four other electric guitars (one seven string), the acoustic guitar, a mandolin, electric piano, saxophone, drum sticks in search of a drum, a bodhran, and tin whistles, not to mention the copies of Rock Band and Guitar Hero, complete with plastic guitars and drum pads, computer recording studio programs, and two massive amplifiers, we're pretty much set. The bodhran and tin whistles are mine, and I can play one song on each, that is the extent of my musical ability. His dad can play the radio. I seem to recall my brother and his bass guitar thumping away in the middle of the night - usually the theme song to Barney Miller, much to my annoyance - so maybe musical talent runs in the family, and it just leapfrogged over me, which is okay, I don't think we have room in the house for any more instruments. I know we're out of plug-ins to run this self contained band. So what was Son One interested in getting for graduation? A bigger amplifier.

doG help us.

Writer's Island 4/26/08 "Outrageous"

Punked

by Constance

This is the face presented to the world, greasy, ambivalent,

acned, laced with metal bits. Attitude hurled forth, position

spewed, grace eschewed for statement. Pagan symbols drawn

from obscure cultures, ballpoint ink, sewing needle stippled

connect-the-dot tattoos.

A revolting revolution, urban insurgents, who long for upheaval

order anarchy from the Internet in hopes of a new rebellion

unaware, unknowing, or not caring of society’s lost interest

in rebels, regulated, related insurgents stick to network bites

of 30 seconds or less.

Topped by hair colored to paint chips, neon signs, new cars,

teased, tortured, this is the face. Mutiny outlined by hair struggling

to conceal the occupant below. A-frame, border-line, another time

unseen. What lies beneath will not be rejected, coerced, hijacked

by uniformity cravers.

This is the picture in the yearbook, the newspaper, the mugshot

eyes flint-chipped, they stare to a distance, unaware, to a different

future, one outside this town.