To laugh at later
Mar. 24th, 2015 03:41 pmYesterday I took a moment to look at the piece of the Mrs. Hawking set I refer to as "the tower," the four-sided, two-storied structure that provided the bones of the climbable fireplace section, which currently resides under my house's back deck. Unlike the rest of the set, which was either furniture that could be returned to its home, or stored down in my basement, the tower section I had no choice but to wrap in a tarp and hope for the best as it endured the ridiculous weather we've had since it came home from Arisia in January.
There has been no effective way to manage the snow that basically buried it for the last two months. I tried to keep the tarp secured at first, but eventually it became clear that was a lost cause. The weight of the snow and ice has basically shredded it. So my precious set piece that me and my crew worked so hard on has been at the mercy of the elements for weeks now, basically unprotected.
It's not a huge deal. My stroke of set-building genius-- if I may say so myself --to use a children's exterior jungle gym made of pressure-treated wood makes it fairly impervious to the weather. Even the black paint is weatherproof. But I must say, there's something a little tragic about seeing a cornerstone of my beautiful set, which looks like this when assembled...

...currently looking like this.

Again, it's fine, and I certainly will have the time (and hopefully no snow storms in MAY) to fix it up if it needs it. Not the end of the world. But it serves as a reminder how rough and unsupported my work is right now. A bit discouraging, I won't lie. I think it's best to keep negativity mostly off the official website, but here on my private journal I'll cop to not always feeling super-confident and pleased with everything. And it all comes down to me, my effort, my resources, which are not endless.
I took this picture so that someday I can look back and laugh. When Mrs. Hawking is a major screen property, and I am internationally famous, and people are fighting to get to produce my pieces. This is the humble beginning from which I started, and worked my way through.
There has been no effective way to manage the snow that basically buried it for the last two months. I tried to keep the tarp secured at first, but eventually it became clear that was a lost cause. The weight of the snow and ice has basically shredded it. So my precious set piece that me and my crew worked so hard on has been at the mercy of the elements for weeks now, basically unprotected.
It's not a huge deal. My stroke of set-building genius-- if I may say so myself --to use a children's exterior jungle gym made of pressure-treated wood makes it fairly impervious to the weather. Even the black paint is weatherproof. But I must say, there's something a little tragic about seeing a cornerstone of my beautiful set, which looks like this when assembled...

...currently looking like this.

Again, it's fine, and I certainly will have the time (and hopefully no snow storms in MAY) to fix it up if it needs it. Not the end of the world. But it serves as a reminder how rough and unsupported my work is right now. A bit discouraging, I won't lie. I think it's best to keep negativity mostly off the official website, but here on my private journal I'll cop to not always feeling super-confident and pleased with everything. And it all comes down to me, my effort, my resources, which are not endless.
I took this picture so that someday I can look back and laugh. When Mrs. Hawking is a major screen property, and I am internationally famous, and people are fighting to get to produce my pieces. This is the humble beginning from which I started, and worked my way through.