Blue Sloth

Leaning

South Main Project: Update 34

Happy Birthday Kelly

Nine years ago my life took a giant leap forward and everything changed, all of it for the better. I'm so proud and happy and thrilled and blessed to have Kelly in my life. Happy Birthday little one.

Father Daughter Game

For our end of season baseball party, we held a picnic out at the ball fields. We fed everyone pizza and cake and had a parents vs. kids game on the big field where the adults play softball. I got to play shortstop and fielded hard grounders for the first time in a quarter century. First three batters all tagged the ball my way, and I scooped them up and threw them out like I was still wearing the Brookwood Bullets uniform (green with gold highlights).

I was a little kid, but I was really good at baseball. I played pitcher and first base and have a stack of MVP trophies in the attic and thousands of great memories of my mom and dad playing catch with me, pitching batting practice in front of our air conditioner unit (which made a "ting" noise when I missed and the ball whacked into the louvered vents which were forever bent and beat up) and a thousand games on grassy fields with well worn dirt paths between the bases, and long grass everywhere else.

Some things you just never forget, and how to get down on a ground ball and make that hop-skip-step toward first must be one of them. Lot's of, "Atta boy coach," from the dads and groaning from our best hitters as they went down one, two, three.

The parents agreed to bat opposite-handed, so I trotted up to bat when it was my turn and stepped into the batters box from the left hand side.

The last time I took a swing as a lefty, I was five-years-old and playing underhanded coach pitch in the Cub Scout league. My dad was trying to make me into a switch hitter and when I stepped into the box from the left hand side, the coach shook his head, "No way," knowing just how far I was going to hit it from the right side. He didn't want me experimenting. A shame probably in the long run.

So I decided I'd be nice and just lay down a drag bunt, maybe catch the kids by surprise. When the first pitch came in I squared around and started running as I made contact . . . but the ball rolled foul.

I shrugged and thought to myself, 'Well I'll just take one easy swing at it. Why not?' Next pitch came in and I swung low to high, making sure I wouldn't hit a line drive and *crack* the ball sailed into the air. Not a big swing, felt good to make contact. But everyone in the outfield started running toward the fence, and there were soft "oohs" from the moms watching from the hill.

I trotted down to first as the ball sailed over the 290 sign in left center field. I grinned at Kelly as I made the turn for second, but she scowled at me. I wonder where she gets that competitiveness? No cheering for dad! I want to beat dad! She gave me a begrudging high five as I went by complete with trademark eye roll.

My first home run in 25 years and my first ever from the left side. Felt good.

"Coach Philip went yard!" The other coaches slapped me on the back. "That's your weak side?" I nodded. "I'd like to see what you can do from your strong side." I grinned.

The kids came back up to bat and got lots of swings, stole lots of bases, acted silly and generally had a blast. Kelly got a single down the third base line, and I tripled into the gap on my other at bat, slowing down to goose kelly as the ball rolled to the fence.

During the awards portion of the party, the head coach had lots of nice things to say about Kelly, and when the team mom brought the coaches their thank you gifts, she looked me in the eye and said, "And Coach Philip . . . a word for every kid with every pitch. Thank you."

I probably remember every at bat from every game, and I tried to get their feet set between pitches, or get them set, or get them to relax, whatever they needed to do to get them primed to hit the ball. I was full of words of encouragement - I guess I never really shut up when I was out there. I'm glad it was well received.

I will think back fondly on this season, Kelly's second season as a ball player, my first as a baseball coach, for the rest of my life. It was a new and wonderful experience for both of us.

And later that night when I was getting ready to go play soccer, Kelly came and put her arms around me and said, "I'm proud of you dad."

What more could any man wish for?

Hands

South Main Project: Update 33

Very hot day, but made solid progress on abdomen up to the sternum.

Fabrication Notes

South Main Project: Update 33

One thing about working outdoors in the early summer . . . thunderstorms roll in late in the afternoon. There will be no welding of the ten foot steel sculpture when you hear thunder. It's already been well-established that sloths are highly flammable, I'm sure we also conduct electricity very well.

A pair of birds started to create a nest inside the angel's hollowed out belly overnight. I could not reach all the twigs, so I had to be a fireman like Montag in Farenheight 451. Hopefully the birds will get a sense that my sculpture is not the best place for a new home.

Working outside in the heat means I eschew jeans and a shirt for the airy comfort of soccer shorts. I am prone to yelping more as sparks and splatter singe my chest and legs - things that would just singe clothes instead - but I am not quite so unbearably hot. And I'm getting a great tan.

It's beautiful outside this morning, and already getting hot! But I just swapped out my tanks so I am ready to go on this lovely Friday. I'll post some pictures of my progress tonight.

Torso

South Main Project: Update 32

It's been extraordinarily hot here this week. In the mid 90's before you even factor in the steel which just gobbles up the heat and reflects it, the concrete, and the welding. Sweat pours off of me all afternoon. I watch it drip onto the steel and evaporate within moments.

I have reached the sternum in the front, and finished the small of her back in the rear.

Sunset on Mars

NASA's Mars Exploration Rover Spirit captured this stunning view as the Sun sank below the rim of Gusev crater on Mars. This Panoramic Camera mosaic was taken around 6:07 in the evening of the rover's 489th Martian day, or sol. Sunset and twilight images are occasionally acquired by the science team to determine how high into the atmosphere the Martian dust extends, and to look for dust or ice clouds. Other images have shown that the twilight glow remains visible, but increasingly fainter, for up to two hours before sunrise or after sunset. The long Martian twilight (compared to Earth's) is caused by sunlight scattered around to the night side of the planet by abundant high altitude dust. Similar long twilights or extra-colorful sunrises and sunsets sometimes occur on Earth when tiny dust grains that are erupted from powerful volcanoes scatter light high in the atmosphere.

Nearing the One Year Mark

South Main Project: Update 31

We are nearing the point where I got the initial email from my patron's art consultant in the Bahamas one year ago, inviting me to submit an entry to the Call for Artists. From invitation to brainstorming to submission of ideas to serious drawing of concepts to final acceptance to prefabrication to the 30 previous posts detailing my progress, it has been almost a full year.

Certainly the longest project of my life, and it feels like several years have transpired when you factor in just how much progress my children have made in the interim, how hard it has been to function with the mola mola gaining traction within my body, and just how many milestones have passed in between sessions in the studio.

I'll look up the actual date that I was sent the voicemail informing me that I had been awarded the contract. I was at the Wynn when I got it, and I really didn't believe it when I heard the message.

Before I reach my next birthday, there will be a piece of monumental art in Davidson, North Carolina built by me.

Anniversary

Ten years ago today Amy and I got married in a little church in Elbow Cay in the Bahamas. It only seems like yesterday.

Hip

South Main Project: Update 30

Last Game of the Season

Tough game for the Cardinals, and the streak of unbeaten games ended at seven. Kelly had a couple of put-outs at second base and doubled in a run with two outs in the third. Her next at bat, with the game slipping away from us, she ran the count full and then proceeded to hit everything I threw at her - but all of them just foul.

Sizzling ground ball three inches wide of third. Long fly ball drifting foul. Line drive deep into the stands. Foul tip. Sizzling ground ball. Deep fly . . . foul. Each time she would have to race down to first base, turn around, come back, get her bat, get set, and do it all over again. And the runner at first would have to run to second, turn around come back.

She fouled off nine pitches, each one a solid hit just a foot off the line. I didn't dare adjust her stance or swing or mind set - it's so hard to hang in there when you have a full count and keep fouling it off.

She looked so good in the batter's box, wiggling her hips, nice and loose, bat waggling overhead, knees bent, eyes focused - she looks totally at ease up there and is really starting to wallop the ball. I just smiled to myself as I paused she before each pitch, knowing it might be the last one for the season.

Finally on the seventeenth pitch I threw at her, she hit a line drive into left field just inside the line and got her second double of the night.

As I told her, and the team afterward, it was a memorable season, and I am very proud of all of them. Sunday we have the team party and the parents are going to play the kids (and bat opposite-handed). Some of the boys were upset after our loss, but I told them to shake it off and that they would feel better about the season after dinner. "By the time you get to dessert, you'll feel like yourselves again."

Cardinals

Tonight is Kelly's second playoff game in the single-elimination tournament. Wish her good luck and think good thoughts at 6:15.

Burning

I burned the ever living crap out of myself today. Daily burns are part and parcel for oxy-acetylene welding. Burn too hot and the metal melts away from the desired weld. Too cold and the steel jumps to the welding tips, quickly boils, and pops - spreading red hot fragments like fireworks. My shirts - when I wear them - all have scorch marks, like dozens of tiny moths have attacked them.

I have singe marks all over my chest, arms and legs. Occasionally a filler rod spins from my fingers and really gets me good. That's like getting branded: the skin is instantly cauterized. Hurts like hell but heals pretty quickly. Without force behind it, the "brand" gets renewed within a few years as the skin regenerates.

Considering the amount of pain I'm in, and how dizzy I feel on a normal basis, I suppose the increase in burns is to be expected. I'd love to be able to report to you that my Mola mola is no longer an issue, that my feelings of pain and nausea have regressed, that my energy level has returned to normal, but I cannot. If anything I'm feeling worse than ever before.

Let me assure you that this is a physical state of being, not a mental or emotional one. I am embracing my world, my children, and my life in ways that make me both proud, happy, and excited each day. I can't stop coming up with ways to challenge, nurture and enjoy my children. They are happy in ways that defy expectation. I am sometimes struck by just how well some part of my subconscious brain is directing my arms and hands to create what I imagine in my mind. I'm pleased with my work, I'm thrilled with the opportunity afforded me, and I am determined to blow away my clients with the final work.

Perhaps the number of burns reflects the amount of work I'm putting into this creation. I have one or two kids with me at all times. Today Alex was sick for the first part of the day and stayed home, Isabel is done with school and I set the two of them up with Legos on a table in the shade away from the sculpture, where they could work, still talk to me and I could still weld.

There is a certain amount of "Daddy . . ." that comes out of any young child. Help me with this, look over there I see a bird, what are you doing, etc. The amount of time between one "Daddy . . ." and the next is somewhere between five seconds and twenty.

This makes serious artistic pursuit difficult. Not impossible. Just difficult. Burns ensue.

I am doing my best.

My children get my best. My neglect tends to manifest in serious burns to my body.

Such is life.

Wind

The Mole had been working very hard all the morning, spring-cleaning his little home. First with brooms, then with dusters; then on ladders and steps and chairs, with a brush and a pail of whitewash; till he had dust in his throat and eyes, and splashes of whitewash all over his black fur, and an aching back and weary arms. Spring was moving in the air above and in the earth below and around him, penetrating even his dark and lowly little house with its spirit of divine discontent and longing.

~ The Wind in the Willows

“Since I grew tired of the chase
And search, I learned to find;
And since the wind blows in my face,
I sail with every wind.”

~ Friedrich Nietzsche

“To reach a port we must sail, sometimes with the wind, and sometimes against it. But we must not drift or lie at anchor.”

~ Oliver Wendell Holmes

“In the love of narrow souls I make many short voyages but in vain - I find no sea room - but in great souls I sail before the wind without a watch, and never reach the shore.”

~ Henry David Thoreau

Tools of the Trade

South Main Project: Update 29

The cutting torch is used to cut triangles out of a 4' x 8' sheet of sixteen gauge steel. I left the pieces in place for the second photograph. They were held together by little bits of molten steel. I sometimes have to pop a piece loose with a hammer; this time I let them dangle for the photo. The sun was so bright, it made an interesting pattern of shadows beneath the steel.

The rusty old clamp is used to bend the steel into curving triangles of varying radii. I sit on a milkcrate that my dad used to store tools in, and bend each piece by hand.

The results of the work are lined up so that I can pick through them and fit just the right piece onto the sculpture when the time comes. I estimate there are over two thousand pieces welded into the angel right now.

Sloth Fish

"Contrary to popular belief that the mola is simply a lazy lollygagging sunbather, it is in fact quite an industrious creature, plumbing the cold dark depths of the ocean repeatedly over the course of a day."

"In today's ocean, highly impacted by human actions through climate change, overfishing, and pollution, some experts predict that only low energy forms like jellyfish will prosper. The mola, which subsists primarily on a jellyfish diet, could end up being the fish of the future."

A good article from 2004 about the Mola mola

Good Movie

Indy was great. It was all over the place - those guys threw everything and the kitchen sink, and one large lead-lined refrigerator into the movie, some worked some didn't - but it was a lot of fun, and there were some really good scenes. Harrison was Henry Jones again - I don't want to spoil anything for anyone by talking about the parts I really liked- but he was really in character. Thumbs up from the Sloth. I'll be going back again, and there's not many things I want to see more than once these days.

Childhood Revisited

Isabel is out of school! One down, two to go and then Summer begins in earnest. I collected Isabel from her little class party and watched as she received the "Best Artist" award, following in the footsteps of both Kelly and Alex who both received the same distinction from the same preschool. She was so excited to tell me, "School all done!" and then remind me that, "Tonight we see Indy-Jones!"

I have worked really hard outside the studio today, cutting steel and bending hundreds of new pieces, so that I'd be ready to go as soon as the big kids came home. They're back now and I need to shave, shower and get ready for the premiere.

I've been trying not to get too excited, or too detached, but now that the day has arrived I find that I am quite interested in seeing what Steven, George and Harrison have concocted after 20 years. Can they recapture the magic? I miss Harrison Ford from the Blade Runner, Mosquito Coast, Witness days. I miss him sitting in a bar in Raiders when he thinks he's lost Marion and his nemesis comes in to gloat and he stands up ready to end it right there . . . only to be saved by a gaggle of children. I miss him world weary, ready to rest for the first time in a long time, only to be wounded more by Marion's affectionate attention.

I was Kelly's age when the first film came out. Perhaps I can revisit my childhood tonight.

The Angel is Outside

South Main Project: Update 28

I have successfully moved the angel outside the studio. She will be completed outdoors where her height will not be a concern. This will also allow her to be moved upright to her final location after completion, rather than needing to be tipped over to get her out of my studio.

I bought scaffolding and assembled it yesterday. I will now have a stable and safe platform for working on the top half of the sculpture.

Playoffs

The Cardinals ended the regular season tied for first place with the Astros, both squads at 8-3. Tonight we opened the playoffs against the A's.

Beautiful night for baseball. Kelly went 3-3 with an RBI, a run scored and a couple of tough bounces in the infield. The team won 11-8. Not our prettiest game; we had some bad breaks but managed to overcome them. Hopefully a good practice on Friday night will get us on track for the next round.

I had to remind Kelly that there is no place for perfectionism in baseball. Everyone makes mistakes and the most important thing is to bounce back quickly, shake it off and focus on the next play.

There will always be another play, another at-bat, another game, another day. You've got to be ready the next time the ball comes your way.

A Funeral

It's been a tough day. An old friend's father passed away yesterday and today was the funeral. When I was a young teenager, this was the family next door - and it was a door that was always open to me. I spent many an hour sitting at their kitchen table talking about high school, girls, sports, life. My friend's dad treated me better than most of my peers did. He was opinionated, cantankerous, drank too much, smoked, was at the other end of the political spectrum from me, but at his core he was a sweet man, and a loving father.

I would go see if my friend was home, and if she wasn't I'd be invited in anyway and offered a coke, quizzed on life, made to feel at home. I think I spent more time with her parents than I did with her during those high school years.

It was sad to see him pass. He was only 70.

A lightning storm swept through the neighborhood tonight. A bolt slammed into my street, or front yard. It made an iron side table and two aluminum bats fall over right in front of me on the porch. I was standing inside looking out the narrow window beside the door when it happened. Very freaky.

I didn't get much work done today as a result of heading to town for the funeral and arranging pick-ups and drop-offs so I could attend the service. It's green outside now, and quiet.

I am going to have a glass of wine and sit on the porch, reflect on how I can use the experiences I had in my next door neighbor's house to make Kelly's friends feel at home when the time comes, and learn how to make a gruff noise of wry acceptance when I hear something interesting, rather than pry with further questions or open up my mouth and dump a bunch of unwanted 'wisdom' into the mix.

He treated me with respect and he listened.

Indoor Soccer Game

Won my indoor playoff game tonight 3-2. I scored three goals.

Dang-it-Dolls

I'm not the only one who enjoys a good flato. Check out this story about a Grandmother who makes stress dolls for our troops.

A South Carolina grandmother has become a sensation among stressed-out U.S. military men and women around the globe by sending the most incongruous of gifts: pliable, google-eye dolls.

Not that soldiers, Marines and airmen are doing much cuddling with her hand-stitched, foot-tall playthings. Carol Davis' "Dang-it-Dolls" are built to take punishment from homesick, frustrated troops and her work is getting rave reviews.

"The legs are shaped so you can grasp onto them," Air Force Staff Sgt. Rachel Staub wrote in a recent e-mail recalling her homesick days based in the United Arab Emirates. "It returned with me to the States with an eyeball missing and the stitching around the legs loose with some of the stuffing coming out."

The little doll "was used mostly for laughs and to keep my mind off being homesick," said Staub, of Melbourne, Fla. "It brought a smile to all our faces!"

Nearly 17,000 of the goofy dolls have been shipped around the world in the four years since Davis made her first one and sent it as a joke to her grandson, who was in the Air Force then in Aviano, Italy.

"I thought it would get a rise out of my grandson, 'Why are you sending me a doll?'" Davis said. "But after I sent 'em, I got messages back: "Can you send us some more?'"

Another story about them.

Saturday Baseball

The Cardinals won today's rematch with the Mets 15-12 who had defeated us earlier in the season. Kelly was 3-4 with a double and two RBI's. In both the first and second inning she came to bat with runners in scoring position and two outs, and each time she delivered: a single and a double. She struck out in her third at bat after smashing several line drives foul down the third base line. Her fourth at bat came in the bottom of the fifth, with the game very tight. She drove the ball into the outfield and scored two batters later.

She made two fantastic plays at second base and had three force outs at second. She was awarded her third game ball of the season, this time by one of her teammates (the coaches award two and a player awards one each game).

With the victory, the Cardinals finished the season 8-3 and it looks like we'll have a very good seed for the tournament which starts Wednesday. I'm very proud of my boys - and my girl - and for the first time I'm nervous and excited about a sport besides soccer.

Giant Chilli Cow

It has been awhile since I've had a chance to post about unusual animals here at the Blue Sloth. Most of you who will remember that I have an affinity for cows and hope to someday own my own mini cow or two, let them roam amongst my sculpture gardens out in the countryside.

Well on the other end of the mini cow spectrum we have Chilli. This black and white Freisan bullock is 1.9m tall and weighs more than a tonne. He dwarfs most horses, is the same height as a small elephant and casts a shadow over his cattle companions.

However, nine-year-old Chilli grazes just on grass and enjoys the occasional swede as a treat at his home at the Ferne Animal Sanctuary in Chard, Somerset, where he was dumped at six days old.

Friday Night Lights

Tonight is our final baseball practice of the season. Tomorrow morning we play the Mets in our final regular season game before the playoffs. The Mets beat us in week one, but we are a different team now. The kids have made amazing progress this season. It's really fun to watch them play.

I'm looking forward to working with the kids on hitting one final night. It's cool and breezy and something tells me that this is where I'm meant to be: working with my kids, welding when I have the time, coaching whenever possible, and living each day to its fullest.

Tonight I am taking everyone to see Prince Caspian.

Sloth Notes

Important safety note: if you are standing on temporary scaffolding with your goggles on, iPod cranked up loud and one hand holding the next steel piece in place, do not scratch your bare leg with the welding torch no matter how badly it itches, especially when the torch is currently spewing flame.

Alex is a few weeks away from a perfect school year of straight A's. So is Kelly. Isabel draws very nice cats. If they were graded, I would give them A's too.

My outdoor soccer team won the Championship.

My left foot is nearly healed. My right foot now has a very similar injury and hurts like hell. Overcompensation i guess. I am playing very good soccer right now, despite the pain.

The angel's location in Davidson should be completed in two weeks. I am to meet with the landscape artist to make sure we're on the same page.

Isabel gets out of school a week from tomorrow. Summer is right around the corner.

Kelly's team won their game tonight which makes five wins in a row. Kelly was 3-4 and made three nice plays at second base. The infield is really playing well together right now. The third baseman and shortstop trust Kelly and fire the ball to second for force outs. Our catcher even pulled off his mask and caught a foul ball tonight. Pretty amazing for an eight-year-old.

I repaired my riding lawn mower yesterday. The drive belt snapped, the fuel line was leaking, and the blades needed repair. I tracked down the spare parts and then Isabel and I fixed everything. Running great again. Grass looks really good.

I pitched to Isabel, Alex and Kelly at the park today. All three of them were whacking the ball. Then I let Kelly pitch to me with the machine and I hit with her little bat. I put Alex and Isabel behind me and took a couple of real swings. Third pitch I put over the two tennis courts, over the ten foot brick wall into someone's backyard in the patio homes.

Kelly watched the ball sail over the courts, waited for it to land, turned back and looked at me with an eye rolling, "Dad-deeeee."

"What?"

She shook her head. "Now you have to go get it."

Game Ball

The baseball season seems to be accelerating as the weeks roll on. We have our fourth game in eight days tonight. We had practice Friday. Also, I have been sure to pitch to Kelly every day in the front yard. Thirty minutes before last night's game I walked up to Kelly and told her to forget everything. Just relax, hold the bat like this do what comes naturally.

Early in the season, she was pounding everything into the dirt right in front of home plate. I got her to drop the barrel of the bat and swing lower. This worked for several games until she began to swing under everything.

I told her, "Just hit the ball," and I tossed some soft ones right at her by hand. She fended the balls off with her bat, deflecting each throw like she was holding a light saber. "See? You can hit it naturally. Now get back in there, relax and hit the ball."

I threw her another 36 pitches, ran out of time and rushed over to the field when my Mom showed up to watch the little ones (Alex was sick).

The game started and Kelly was moved up a notch in the batting order: up to number six. This is relevant in that she started at number eleven out of twelve. Defensively she has already secured the second base position - something that we are both proud of. She gets very excited about every out she makes in the field, almost more than getting a hit. Offensively I have been working very hard with her to move her up into the elite section of boys who get a hit at every at bat.

On this picture perfect night, I watched her walk up to the batter's box and go through her routine. Swing the bat like an elephant's trunk, down low, getting loose. Working on shifting her weight forward and back with the bat.

"Ready?" She tenses, weight on back foot, bat held loosely overhead. "Ball," I declare before I pull the lever that releases the spring-loaded arm.

I have pitched every pitch to every batter on our team for an entire season. I remember every hit. I remember every agonizing foul tip with three strikes (they get seven pitches, four strikes and you're out). I go through the full emotional spectrum with every kid on every at bat. I want them to get a hit so badly each time they come up. And things do not always go smoothly.

Kelly likes to drive me particularly crazy. She will watch the first pitch go by as instructed (to get a sense of being up there, to see where the ball is flying, to get in the groove) then whiff on two pitches, foul off the fourth and as the pressure mounts, foul off pitch after pitch until finally *CRACK*

The ball zooms past my head and she has her first hit of the night.

There is a particular pleasure in watching her succeed at baseball that I cannot quite describe. Soccer is a universally playable sport. I love it completely. I am very proud of her skills as a soccer player, and to be honest, she is a formidable soccer player. Baseball is a curious beast though. It is not the easiest thing in the world to hit a pitched baseball. Some might say it is one of the hardest things to do in sports.

Add to that the notion that it's a "boy's sport." I have taught Kelly that she can do anything and everything her heart desires. I am of a mind that she can engender the best qualities of both boys and girls, and tackle any subject, sport, or passion that she desires.

There is nothing more empowering than whacking a 40 mph fastball into the outfield when you're eight-years-old and the only girl on a team of talented boys. As I've said before, I love her ability to be a great teammate, a good sport, and fit into any situation. But it gives me a particular thrill to see her excel when I have put her in a challenging situation.

Last night she came to bat four times. She got four hits, knocked in three runs, scored three runs and made a great play at second base scooping up a sizzling ground ball and trotting over to first for the force out. She received a game ball for the second time this season.

Not bad for a little girl. Particularly when I suggested she change her swing right before the game.

I am quiet as her coach; I kiss her on the cheek between innings and give her instruction on her last at bat, or her last fielding effort, but mostly I just stand by when the kids are in the field (and I'm not pitching) and call out instructions to the infield, chat with the other coaches, fret over the game situation.

I don't get a chance to go, "Wow." All she gets is a dusty hug and a smile between innings, and I just whisper wow under my breath.

Last night was one big wow.

Cutting

South Main Project: Update 27

I have merged the three basic facets of building the angel into a more seamless routine. Instead of running out of pieces and having the creative process grind to a halt while I shift gears mentally and prepare myself for a week's worth of intense physical labor, I do little bits at a time. Before I would spend days cutting out hundreds of pieces of steel, then several more painstakingly bending them by hand into gently curving triangles before lining them all up in preparation for fabrication.

I now do mini-batches While I do run out of material more quickly, I don't lose the creative thrust that has been propelling me to that point. I pause only long enough to cut out another day's work and then press forward, making sure to resume placing pieces again before retiring for the night so that it is all still fresh in my mind the next morning.

Scale

South Main Project: Update 27

Kelly poses with the angel to provide a sense of scale. Kelly is 52 inches tall. As you can see, I am making tremendous progress on the work.

Sunday

Speed Racer was a disappointment to me. It would have been a nice 20 minute short film. The action scenes were too chaotic to comprehend what was happening, and while I commend the Wachowski brothers for their concept of vivid colors and surreal imagery, they suffer from the same over-indulgence that plagued George Lucas in his prequel: throwing everything and the kitchen sink into every frame. There is no sparse framing, with something to draw the eye from one point to another. No focal point. Just chaotic color and movement. There is a point where less is more. You should build an action scene the same way you build dialogue between characters.

Alas Speed Racer grows quickly tiresome. As it was, I simply thought of what I would have done to pare down each race to show how the track really worked, how I would have developed each race and each scene.

Isabel loved it however. She went on and on about it during the movie.

Kelly won her baseball game on Saturday, drove in a run and scored two. Alex won his soccer game. We got out on the lake for a glorious day of mud castle building and basking in the sun. We had a great dinner on the boat and a long night's sleep listening to rain pound the roof.

Happy Mothers Day to all you wonderful moms out there.

Left Leg

South Main Project: Update 26

I have had a great week of work in the studio. The left leg is nearing completion.

I'm off to baseball practice, then I'm taking everyone to see Speed Racer. I expect the kids will love it. I'm looking forward to the Clone Wars trailer debut in front of the movie, and will enjoy watching the kids enjoy themselves during the feature.

Coaching Kelly

Baseball was fun last night. The Cardinals won the game in the bottom of the fifth and Kelly drove in her second run of the night with a single to seal things. She was 2-3 and had one ground ball hit to her at second base. She has earned the role of starting second baseman and she is very proud to jog out to her position at the start of each inning. We have practice Friday night, and a game Saturday, Monday and Wednesday.

When in Doubt, Refill them Both

When I went to exchange cylinders on Friday, they were out of 80's and gave me a 60 acetylene instead. Well I burned through that dude pretty quickly and today I went back to exchange my 60 for an 80. I got home, got the regulator screwed tight and promptly ran out of oxygen within ten minutes of cutting triangles.

The pressure gauge is jammed on the oxygen regulator and I just have to wing it when it comes to the level remaining. It's cheap compared to acetylene, plus I have a much larger oxygen tank, so I don't mind refilling it a bit more often than I might if I bled it dry each time. I usually take them both in and exchange them at once, however having had the smaller acetylene tank, I figured I had plenty of oxygen to go.

Another hour round trip in the car tomorrow morning. Bah.

I'm off to coach Kelly's baseball game in an hour. Going to pitch three buckets of balls to her in the front yard first to get her warmed up. Hopefully she'll be driving the ball well in the game tonight.

Wish her luck!

Tuesday

All day in the studio. Absolutely on fire.

Important safety tip: when one hand is holding the welding torch, and one hand is holding the steel in place, and you have the copper filler rod that you just used to braise the seam wedged between your forefinger and your thumb, it's a bad idea to use your lips to try to readjust the position of the filler rod.

My View

South Main Project: Update 25

This was my view on Friday afternoon. I have since connected the left knee to the right hip. It is not completed, but the bones are built and the muscles and tissue are taking shape. I rebuilt the knee too while I was at it.

It wasn't perfect.

Yes it was difficult to carve away weeks worth of work with the torch. Yes it looks much better. Yes, I'm obsessing over all the details.

I have put in three of the strongest days of work I can remember in a long time. I am very pleased with my current level of energy and focus.

I'm totally wiped right now, but I'm looking forward to finding some hidden depths of adrenaline and energy for my 9:20 game in a few hours.

I played great last night, even on a bum foot. I look forward to repeating the feat tonight.

Monday

How many teeth does an alligator have?

I have three dental appointments for the kids lined up today and I'm thinking that three pairs of beastie teeth might equal one big gator.

Our weekend was full of soccer games, baseball games, and welding. We even snuck a little golf tournament action in there. I continued my P90X regimen and had two soccer games of my own last night.

Right foot is killing me, other than that I'm in one piece.

A couple cups of coffee cures all that ails a soul. I'll be back in the studio in between trips to the dentist, and I'm hoping the right leg will touch the left leg for the first time today.

Friday Night

I sculpted all day.

Isabel was a real sweet heart. She helped me all day long, and when she got tuckered out, she would sit down on the wooden church pew and think about little girl things, twirling her fingers around her stuffed cat's tail. And when she caught her wind, she'd ask to help, or perhaps to draw some more.

We drew on the concrete with chalk: giant cats, and what Alexander would look like as an adult Jedi. We drew on paper (more cats and some abstract swirlies). She brought me pieces of steel for various functions, both helpful and sometimes imaginative. And of course from time to time she would don her goggles and crouch down beside me with filler rod to feed into the flame. Fearless child.

I had a few moments where I had to shut the torch off and simply lie down on the concrete. I forgot how easy it is to burn yourself when you're not on top of your game.

I pushed through and worked despite my intense need to just quit.

Baseball practice was long and hard. Kelly played great. We are trying to figure out a starting infield for the second half of the season after playing everyone equally all over the place.

I have just now finished my position by position write-ups and now I can relax.

Friday

I'm back in the studio. I feel woozy, like the four o'clock mola pains are hitting five hours early. It's frustrating, annoying, debilitating - I want to claw out my own rotten insides. But I cannot sit back and wait to feel better before resuming work on the South Main Project.

So I'm diving in. There's a fine bead of sweat on my brow and all down my back - and I haven't even started welding.

*sigh*

I started the morning by working on Izzie's Rock Box, which is a joint project with me and the kids. They sketch designs and we have round table discussions of elements we want to incorporate, and then I weld what they tell me to.

I added another rock tube today - you drop a rock in the steel pipe and it rattles down through the box and pops out into a basin on the other side.

The whole thing is on legs, like some R2D2 prototype. I bought a fifty pound bag of smooth white landscaping pebbles for her to play with.

Izzie is particularly enchanted. She loves little rocks.

The movie was really good last night. I give it a seven out of ten, with hopes for greatness down the line. Not as good as Batman Begins, but better than most of the superhero origin stories. Kids really enjoyed it.

I Love Movie Premieres

I have four tickets to tonight's Iron Man premiere at eight o'clock. Which means me and the beasties will be among the first in the country to see it on the silver screen. I'm taking the kids for ice cream, to play in the commons and perhaps get a glass of wine for dada at the cafe before the show. Then the biggest tubs of popcorn they have, slathered in lots of butter and gigantic Coca Colas for everyone.

The Summer Movie Season gets off to a roaring start tonight and I have very high hopes for Robert Downey Jr. and Jon Favreau's creation. Buzz is really high on this one. The clips I've seen have shown great promise. Take a look for yourself . . .

Let's Talk Baseball

Kelly and I are walking to our baseball game on a gorgeous Saturday afternoon. I'm carrying her equipment bag over one shoulder and she has her mitt tucked up under one arm. She looks like she's been playing ball all her life; she walks with that jaunty air of relaxed confidence. We're both silent, content to soak up the sound of the birds, the trees, the exuberant shouts of children ahead.

She's wearing the St. Louis Cardinals colors: red hat, red shirt, white pants, red socks, black cleats. I have a matching red hat on, and my coach's shirt. I could walk by her side forever - in these quiet moments I can place my fingertips lightly on her shoulder for an instant and tell her that I love her without a word.

We crest the hill overlooking the park and see three diamonds spread out beneath us. Spectators are sprawled out on the hillside, watching a softball game. It's Kelly's age group, and I can sense her interest.

"Do you want to watch for a minute?"

She nods.

Some girls from our street wave to Kelly from the bleachers, but her eyes are studying the game. The girls are wearing shorts, and long socks pulled up to their knees. A coach is pitching very carefully to one of the girls.

"They're pitching underhand," Kelly says with undisguised surprise.

"Yep, it's softball."

"And the ball is huge."

"And yellow," I note as the batter hits a dribbler down the third base line.

"It's so slow."

Some boys from the next field are beckoning. Kelly's name is hollered. "C'mon Kelly."

We resume walking toward her teammates and she looks up at me, "I'm glad I'm playing baseball."

"Little different hitting 40 mph pitches, huh?"

"Yeah, I think I would be bored in softball."

"Well I'm very proud of you for playing baseball."

She grins and runs ahead to greet her team.

And proud of her I am. She's not only bonding with her teammates and making friends, being a good sport, showing enthusiasm and spirit - all things I fully expected her to thrive at - but she's also becoming a solid player.

I have become the de facto hitting coach, and all the players are showing improvement at the plate. I have gotten so good with the pitching machine that I can put each pitch exactly where I want it, and I tailor the pitches to each hitter's preferences.

Kelly is an excellent contact hitter and I've been working with her to develop power, so that she can start driving the ball.

In her first two games she was 1 for 3 and hitting ground balls to the first baseman. We adjusted her swing and stance, and I pitched her hundreds and hundreds of balls.

In her last three games she is 8 for 11 with a triple and three doubles. She has been ripping the ball up the middle.

I lobbied the head coach to move her up in the lineup along with several of the boys who have really been showing improvement and after looking at the stats, he agreed.

Last night Kelly came up with two outs in the third inning and two runners on. She took the count all the way to the seventh pitch and then drove the ball into left field for a double, scoring both runners.

In the sixth inning, with the game on the line she came up again with two outs and two runners on. She fouled off pitch after pitch and I kept trying to deliver them right into her wheel house. Finally on the tenth pitch, she hit a ground ball up the middle for her third hit of the night, scoring both runners.

The smile on her face was priceless.

DadTalk Stories

Brett over at DadTalk does a great job of staying on top of issues relating to the health and safety of our children. From time to time I run across stories that I consider perfect DadTalk material. For more stories and Brett's calm and assured commentary about topical issues, head over and give him a read.

Bad Dentists

A chain of dental clinics in North Carolina has agreed to pay $10 million to the government to resolve allegations that it performed and billed for unnecessary dental work on poor children, the U.S. Justice Department announced Wednesday.

"These dentists subjected their child patients to invasive and sometimes painful procedures, often for the sake of obtaining money from the North Carolina Medicaid program," said Jeffrey Bucholtz, an assistant attorney general for the Justice Department.

Four-year-old Brandon Dillbeck of Charlotte had 16 stainless steel crowns put on his teeth in 2003. His mother told the Observer Wednesday she'd taken him in for his first visit to the dentist to get his teeth cleaned.

Nightmare Bulbs

Compact fluorescent light bulbs, long touted by environmentalists as a more efficient and longer-lasting alternative to the incandescent bulbs that have lighted homes for more than a century, are running into resistance from waste industry officials and some environmental scientists, who warn that the bulbs’ poisonous innards pose a bigger threat to health and the environment than previously thought.

As long as the mercury is contained in the bulb, CFLs are perfectly safe. But eventually, any bulbs — even CFLs — break or burn out, and most consumers simply throw them out in the trash, said Ellen Silbergeld, a professor of environmental health sciences at Johns Hopkins University and editor of the journal Environmental Research.

“This is an enormous amount of mercury that’s going to enter the waste stream at present with no preparation for it,” she said.

Manufacturers and the EPA say broken CFLs should be handled carefully and recycled to limit dangerous vapors and the spread of mercury dust. But guidelines for how to do that can be difficult to find, as Brandy Bridges of Ellsworth, Maine, discovered.

“It was just a wiggly bulb that I reached up to change,” Bridges said. “When the bulb hit the floor, it shattered.”

When Bridges began calling around to local government agencies to find out what to do, “I was shocked to see how uninformed literally everyone I spoke to was,” she said. “Even our own poison control operator didn’t know what to tell me.”

The state eventually referred her to a private cleanup firm, which quoted a $2,000 estimate to contain the mercury. After Bridges complained publicly about her predicament, state officials changed their recommendation: Simply throw it in the trash, they said.

That was the wrong answer, according to the EPA. It offers a detailed, 11-step procedure you should follow: Air out the room for a quarter of an hour. Wear gloves. Double-bag the refuse. Use duct tape to lift the residue from a carpet. Don’t use a vacuum cleaner, as that will only spread the problem. The next time you vacuum the area, immediately dispose of the vacuum bag.

“It’s kind of ironic that on the one hand, the agency is saying, ‘Don’t worry, it’s a very small amount of mercury.’ Then they have a whole page of instructions how to handle the situation if you break one,” she said.

“I think there’s going to be hundreds of millions of [CFLs] in landfills all over the country,” said Leonard Worth, head of Fluorecycle Inc. of Ingleside, Ill., a certified facility.

Once in a landfill, bulbs are likely to shatter even if they’re packaged properly, said the Solid Waste Association of North America. From there, mercury can leach into soil and groundwater and its vapors can spread through the air, potentially exposing workers to toxic levels of the poison.

Beware the Wind

The toddler who was blown by high winds into Lake Michigan's frigid waters Friday afternoon while strapped in his stroller is improving, his father and a family friend said Saturday.

Divers found the boy, still strapped in his stroller, about 10 feet beneath the water's edge. A strong wind gust apparently propelled the stroller into Belmont Harbor, where water temperatures were 42 degrees, shortly after 2:30 p.m. Friday.

The child's grandfather, who was sitting on a bench next to the stroller, plunged into the lake after the boy, screaming, "Boy! Boy! Boy!" witnesses said.

Horrified onlookers quickly dialed 911, and divers found the boy in zero-visibility water within 15 minutes of arriving.

And Finally an Uplifting Story

Leaving private practice, Stuart sold her house and set out to raise $400,000 in donated funds, materials and services. In 2002, these efforts resulted in "The Clinic: Medical Center for the Uninsured," a charitable, sun-filled clinic that has since received more than 40,000 patient visits.

Individuals receive free or low-cost primary medical care across eight specialties, regardless of income or locality.

"Since there's no need to spend a lot of time doing paperwork, we have time to talk to the patient and really hear what they're saying," says Stuart. "So the patients go away feeling they've been heard, that they've been helped."

An arsenal of more than 100 local volunteers, including 20 retired and practicing physicians, assist Stuart in providing expert medical services to more than 800 patients per month from across the southeastern Pennsylvania, New Jersey and Delaware area.

Patient contributions account for 20 percent of The Clinic's $900,000 annual operating budget. The rest comes exclusively from private grants and donations. If The Clinic accepted money made available through government aid programs, they would be significantly restricted in terms of whom they would be allowed to treat, and how.

Day Ten

A nice whoosh of a day. Cleaned house, got laundry monster under control, exercised, ate properly, played with kids. Didn't ever really slow down to smell the sweet, cool Carolina air, but four bathrooms sparkle, the wood floors have been mopped, all the kids clothes are clean, folded and put away and there was time to make a nice dinner for everyone and snuggle down to watch The Golden Compass. Hopefully I'm set up perfectly to re-engage in the studio come May first.

Day Nine

The one day of rest was like swimming with concrete blocks chained to your ankles, struggling to the surface and then just barely getting one gulp of air before succumbing to the weight again. I did the Chest and Back, Ab Ripper X, and added an hour of Plyometrics X - which is just a great workout - for 136 minutes of intense mola re-education.

As there was no food in the house, I subsisted on water and a protein bar.

The rain was pouring down all afternoon and I had the windows open to keep the cool breezes flowing through the house and the sound of rain whispering in my ear. I finished up in time to walk down to the bus stop with a pair of umbrellas for the kids, so they wouldn't get wet on the walk up the street.

I didn't open the umbrella, choosing to let the hard rain cool me off. I could swear that there was more sweat pouring off me than rain though.

Saturday Concluded Week One

I successfully completed the first seven days of the P90X Regimen. Yesterday was my "rest day" but I chose to do the Stretching because I was so sore and tight. My body needed that rest day desperately. I feel better this morning, but I know I'm getting ready to tear into it again today. My right foot is still too injured for soccer tonight.

Now that I know what to expect from the workouts in week two, I hope to concentrate on the diet portion and learn some more of the recipes and try to regulate the times that I eat and try to get out of the habit of skipping meals (which I do because I'm busy, because I'm in pain) and get to eating every three hours to switch my metabolism from its slow "the sloth is starving me" mode to its usual fast calorie-burning mode.

The one immediate positive from the first week's exercises is a much more regulated bowel. Those of you who suffer from some form of stomach issue know just how nice it is when your body decides to operate the way it was designed to. It seems silly, because I know I used to take it for granted too, but I say a silent prayer of thanks each and every time a bit of waste actually leaves my system, and a regular bowel movement? That's a gift from the gods.

P90X

P90X Official Site

A Good Review of P90X by Shaping My Way

Another Good Review of P90X by Weight Loss HQ

Both reviews are followed by a long string of helpful comments and questions.

I am really enjoying Tony Horton's motivational style: not too chipper, not too aggressive, but totally upbeat. I also like how they use different people in each video, each of whom have their strengths and weaknesses, so that you can focus on the person who will help you the most during each hour. For instance one person is always showing you how to do the exercises with the bands instead of weights, and another is not quite as flexible as the others and uses blocks during Yoga, and so forth and so on.

The 90 minute Yoga X routine was very enjoyable yesterday - hard, but enjoyable.

Embracing Yoga

Day Three

Declaration

I Can't Lift My Arms