Fixie's Shelf

I made a rocket stove!

I've been watching videos on YouTube that explain how to make a rocket stove, but being deaf, they are a little confusing without the sound. There's only so many things I can bear to harrass Paula into interpreting for me, and rocket stove videos doesn't make the grade. I was telling some friends on Friday about my plans, and about how I was planning to make a stove but hadn't yet deciphered the video, and Sally immediately whisked out her computer, got us connected to the net, and began jotting down the key points for me. What an angel! Ariane took over when Sally needed to tend to the kids, and between the two of them, they got me totally sorted as to the concept of how a rocket stove works.

What's special about a rocket stove is that you can cook using an astonishingly small amount of fuel - not that many twigs are needed to boil water, for example. The reasons I want one are a) to reduce the use of our gas and make use of the vast amount of wood hanging round on our property, and b) so we can cook outside in summer and not heat up the house.
The basic idea, I gather, thanks to Sally and Ariane, is that you have an L-shaped bit of stovepipe (or chamber) that's about 10cm in diameter, and you put the fire in the foot of the L, and sit the pot on the top of the L. You need to make a little platform in the middle of the foot of the L so that the twigs can sit on it and there's space underneath for the air to flow in, providing plenty of oxygen for a good flame. The stovepipe also needs to be insulated, preferably with something that will hold the heat nicely. We watched a few videos, but in the end the absolutely simplest one was this: How to Make a 16 Brick Rocket Stove. We've got plenty of bricks lying around. The only bit that foiled me was that in order to make the foot of the L the right size, we need to have a half-thickness brick. No go. And I'm not trying to cut one. In the end I solved it by placing a few tiles I found in the bottom.

This stove took me about an hour to make, once you include finding the drawers to sit it on and shifting them into a nice shady spot opposite our front door, and tracking down the slab of marble which I laid on top in the hope that the drawers won't catch on fire, and tempting the redback spiders out of the holes in the bricks. If you only count the time to actually make the stove, well that'd be about 10 minutes. I put a big white tile behind the stove in the hope of protecting the fence, put in some paper and twigs, sat our pot on top, lit the stove and snapped this pic.

The white tile is now black. The pot is now black. The drawers are now covered in ash. BUT IT WORKS! I couldn't believe that something so utterly simple could actually work so well. It got up a nice big flame quite quickly, was pretty easy to keep going, and after a few hours the bricks and ash were so hot I could boil water on it super-quick with only a low flame. We filled that huge pot with stock and boiled it all day.

I think in future we won't use it for all-day slow-cooking though, as it needs a fair bit of regular attention. I think we'll be better to put the stock or the rabbit stew (which we made today) in the solar oven (when we have one), and use the rocket stove for an hour or two to cook dinner and an extra dish or two with the surplus heat.

I got so inspired by my quick success with the rocket stove that I started looking at plans for a home-made solar oven.. but that's another post! I'm also dreaming about how we can harness some of that extra heat from the rocket stove by creating an oven beside it. The theory is there but the mechanics of how to actually build it.. hmmm.. maybe I'll go and google wood-fired ovens now.

A crown for my six year old

Back when my cousin was six, she used to be afraid to lie in bed alone at night, fearful that wicked witches such as Cruella De Ville and the various evil characters in stories I used to tell her would come and get her. I would lie with her, but my aunt called me out, concerned I was preventing her from falling asleep. 

My solution was to stitch her a crown, a silver crown, inspired by Robert O'Brien's book The Silver Crown. The crown, I told her, would protect her from all evil, and keep her safe. She just needs to put it on where she is afraid. My cousin, all grown up now, still has the crown, and although it's too small for her now, she keeps it by her bed and holds it when she needs comfort. She tells me its magic still works. 

This week Jesse turned six. He has his own fears - he's afraid to go to the studio by himself, and various parts of our garden, in case he be spirited away by ghouls or ghosts. This is not my doing! I never told him any scary stories! But I have been working on a solution. I stitched this crown from him, making it as magical as I possibly could. I chose an exquisite blue and gold fabric that shimmers, and when I gave it to him I explained the fabric was made from mermaid hairs and threads of the ocean. 

I wasn't sure what he'd make of it when I gave it to him. He wanted lego for his birthday, and transformers, and toy cars.... and I suspected that a handmade crown might rate rather lower than a pile of brighly coloured plastic. I didn't give him the crown in the morning when he opened all his other presents. I saved it until just before bedtime, and then finally pulled it out, a last secret present. 

When he opened it he was overawed. "This is the BEST present in my whole birthday!" he told me. He put it on and he could feel the magic. I was so touched - I really wasn't sure... but since then he's worn it every day. He wore it when he hurt himself, and said it soothed him. He wore it after an argument with Paula. He wore it to go to the studio by himself... and sometimes he puts it on just to enjoy it. I hope he gets to enjoy its magic for as long as my cousin....

And secretly.. I'm proudest of all that my boy can recognise and value something handmade above a piece of lego.

Art Installations on my desk

This is a photo of my desk. Isn't it looking gorgeous? I rearranged it so I could fit in the new piece my sister and I made. Now it's got four installation pieces, though the blue book still isn't finished. Since my sister made the papier mache bunnies, I'm thinking maybe a papier mache doll is the answer to my problem for the blue book. Hmm... 

On top of the box on the left you can see the doll I originally made for the blue book - but her hair is just way too big and obscures the city. Hanging on the clothesline is a ripped off piece of the blanket my mum made for my cot when I was a baby (yes.. a security blanket - I call it Brown Rug), then there's a papier mache dress that I made, and then Jesse's and my Magic Token. We found it in the park and had such a beautiful game of making magical spells with it - I put it up to remind me of the good times and feeling like I'm a wonderful mama. Then there's the bunny Cal made me. And finally a tiny framed picture of my beloved grandmother, Moo, who died when I was pregnant with Jesse. 

I try to keep my desk as a shrine to what's important to me... but of course it doesn't always look like this. Picture it with piles of bills to pay, admin to get to, contracts to sign, orders for books to send off.. and you'll know how it normally looks!

Papier mache bunny

I was so in love with the tiny bunny my sister made that she made me another one to hang on the miniature clothesline I've got on my desk. Isn't this unbelievably sweet?

The hand that rules the cradle rocks the world

I've been planning to make this piece for over six months now, but I just couldn't find the right dolls, the right boxes, the right anything. My darling friend Jenine gave me a copy of the catalog from Julie Arkell's exhibition, Home, and I was SO INSPIRED I committed again to working out how to do this piece. 

I found two dolls I had that were too big for any of the boxes, and decided they would go together.  (I needed a doll with weird hair - and I had one that I made ages ago but frankly I think she's ugly, and that was putting me off.  I ditched her and focussed instead on a doll that was bald with a weird patch of velcro at the top of her head.)  I made the box out of scrap timber I had left over from The Grimstones, and then I was up and running. My sister Cal told me she'd love to do more art with me, so we sat down together to work on this over two separate sessions. I had gathered together everything I needed in a kind of kit, along with a drawing of how it was all to fit together. We worked and gossipped for hours, having the best time. Cal papier-mache'd the box with the paper I had cut out from the book I posted in my previous entry, and she painted the dolls, handing them to me so I could do the faces. She also made the incredible cones of hair for the mama - I love them!  I made the rest of the stuff. 

As we were winding up, I showed Cal the catalog from Home and she too was incredibly inspired. Immediately she made a tiny bunny, which you can see in the hand of the mama in the box. I am so delighted with the bunny I am absolutely in love!

A few close ups:

Isn't the bunny the most adorable thing you've ever seen?  My sister is SO clever!

In case you weren't sure, this piece expresses my experience of choosing to parent in a way that seems to be rather different from the way most people around me are doing it.  I might not have gorgeous text cones on my head but I do have dreadlocks and people do find them rather inappropriate for a mother.

What skills will we need?

I started this art installation back in March. I got a book from the op shop which I cut into to make a hollow. On the page at the back I added gesso and water colour paint to partially obscure the text, and then drew my picture of the city. It's no particular city but you can see buildings from Melbourne in here - note the Victorian Arts Centre! There is supposed to be a doll standing at the front, and I was planning to have a rusted out ruined toy car too. But I'm having trouble finding the right doll and the right car. I got the perfect car but it's really a bit big to fit. I painted a doll from an op shop, but she has too much hair and it covers too much of the picture. But I feel the need to post this any way, even though it's a work in progress. I'll post another photo when I've finally resolved the doll and car problems!

Matroshka Doll Wheat Bag

I love Matroshka Dolls. I love the simplicity of their shape and the beautiful hoods they have. I stitched this one from some of my favourite fabrics, filled it with wheat and lavender, and now it's a little wheat bag. Back when we had a cold spurt, I'd heat her up and Jesse would fall asleep cuddling her. She also works as an eye cover for day-time meditation and naps - lovely. Most of all, she looks good on my bed!

Spots Series

I was so inspired from all that artwork I saw at the night markets that when I found a few hours off this afternoon I made a mini series.  My plan is to print them out and glue them to small square canvases.  What do you think?

Gothic Doll Art Installation

[Finally, I think I've fixed this entry, which was displaying terribly before, with blurry photos...] 

I told you I was working on an installation for my desk. Finally I'm happy with my first piece.

It's called: 
 

And brings to mind babies in humidicribs instead of snugged up to their mamas; the plethora of medical intervention which seems almost inevitable for babies these days. 

I've been reclaiming unloved and discarded dolls from the op shops, painting them to relieve them of their garish smiles and blue eye shadow, and making up little scenes, like this one, in which to feature them. You can see a half-completed doll in the mirror. 

And how I made it? I took wooden box I found in the op shop, and covered it with papier mache - pieces torn from an old sewing pattern book. I had a bit of scrapbooking paper leftover from The Grimstones, and I used that as the background for wallpaper. 

I drew a chandelier out of cardboard and almost died trying to cut the thing out - very fiddly. But after a coat of black paint and mounting it on a piece of chain from a broken necklace, and it looks great. 

The bed was made with armature wire which I glued to a foam-core base. And the chest of drawers are also made from foam-core board. 

The inspiration was from a magnificent magazine, Selvedge, that was sent to me by Jenine, the ever-talented designer who has poured hours into our Grimstone stuff. The magazine is amazing. I was inspired by images of dolls house furniture made from cardboard, dolls in boxes, and mummified reclaimed dolls. It got me going, so thanks Jenine, for the fabulous inspiration!

 

Bertha Make Over

Bertha's Dining Area, After Makeover:

And how it looked Before:

Finally I have taken some photos of Bertha, our lovely campervan, so you can see the results of my make over. You can see the external make over here. It's been a slow process, over the past two years, that I've been shifting her away from that hideous beige seventies decor and into something a bit more my taste. Happily it hasn't cost a lot of money, as it was mostly sewing and painting which Paula and I did ourselves. I'm so pleased with how she looks. For me, interior decor seems to do absolutely everything to enhance my mood. When I stay in a place that delights me, I get joy from looking at and being in my surroundings every day. When I don't like the aesthetic I find it really hard not to let it seep into my pores - it definitely influences my spirit. Happily Bertha is now a space I like to be in just to enjoy the aesthetic and find inspiration. By the way I would have liked to paint all the exposed fake wood laminate white, but for some reason Paula is resisting. Maybe one day...

The Kitchen Before:

And After:

Our Bed Before:

And After:

Our Bedside table before:

And After:

And a view of the door, from the dining area:

And after: