Makin' Do...

The Naked Bulb of Inspiration

It has almost felt like homesteading in this hollowed-out little cabin over the past few weeks, getting progressively emptier as all the ephemera is slowly stripped away. Besides the kitchen table for the computer, the only other furnishing left is now the drawing table. Well, what else do I really need, besides more time?

Trivia: the table's an antique piece that's always felt like a personal connection to local history: I inherited it from the former owner of a business I used to work for, where it had lain dormant while buried under a mountain of miscellaneous junk in a back-yard storage unit. It was used for many years in the art department at Trademark Screenprinting during the early 1980's, and he in turn had received it from another friend, who originally got it from the first-ever graphic artist employed at the Fairbanks Daily News-Miner during territorial days. 
That pegs it at presumably around a hundred years old, enduring longer than any of the work I've done while sitting at it ever will. As a sort of a touchstone crafted from oak & iron it's a pretty hefty piece of gear, but seeing as how for years I used a wooden plank across my legs while sitting in a beanbag (eventually upgrading to an abandoned door propped up on cinder-blocks) it's not only functional and handsome, but provides a palatable sense of legacy. Even after refinishing it a while back, there's still scars from cigarettes burns along the edges, with the only concession to modernity being a glass pane inset for the addition of a light box unit that was at one time affixed underneath. 
Everything I use is comparatively "new" - with the possible exception of the OSX 10.3.9 operating system, my penchant for classic Yes and Genesis, and arguably, Souchie the sixteen-year old cat. But with so much of commercial media, and by extension my own material, being inherently trivial, fleeting and disposable, it's sorta special to be at least somewhat grounded on a small part of tradition.