Recycling

There is something I love about the digital age. Case in point. Take an image you did about 4 years ago. (first you have to find it on one of your backup drives.) Then layer in a few new photos, cut, paste, trace, draw some more, Then draw some more. After a few hours "viola" new poster. Gotta go work on our new masks now.

What a weekend. 5 things made this weekend truly spectacular. If it were possible to jam everything and everyone into the last weekend of summer we came pretty damn close. It was a great time.

#1 Some friends of ours (Damon and Amy) from Hood River, Oregon came up for a visit with their truly adorable little girl "Poppy." They are the most amazing house guests we have ever had and set a standard we won't try to live up to. They brought a cooler full of food and their own towels. They didn't want us to have to do too much laundry when they left. (shake head here) This was topped off by coming home to the smell of a cedar planked salmon dinner they wanted to prepare for us. A somewhat impossible confusion to my sense of smell knowing we don't own a grill. Turns out they bought us a newfangled charcoal grill as a housewarming present when they found out we didn't have one. I am still shaking my head over that one. Amazing friends. The Salmon was beyond comment and we went to sleep with our bellies quite content. The Last night they were here was spent sitting around the "fireball" singing songs and making smores. Perfect.

#2 The shop has been a place of magic the last few days. Between Friday and Saturday just about everyone we had some sort of relationship with on the island came in for a visit. This even included Anatoli from the International Ballet who brought another friend and his wife to check things out. I got very little done but it was a great couple days. We did make some leather vambraces (cuffs) that came out really well while talking to visitors and socializing with our friends. By the end of the Saturday we were joking about the only folks we hadn't seen that day only to have them turn up 5 minutes later.

#3 A very nice man named Rodney Wood came into our shop and asked if he could do some photographs in and out of our shop. "Sure!" I said. Then he told me about the interesting process he uses to take the photos. I nodded with a cursory understanding. He showed us a couple prints he had and we were gobsmacked. He did a few different shots of the shop and Nymbol and crew got in to the action. When I got home I looked up more of his work. Rodney has a flickr site. Right now, open another window and do a search for him under people on flickr. Wow. If there is a faerie sight he is able to capture it. I cannot wait to see what he comes up with.

are you back from checking on Rodney? Good. Amazing isn't it.

#4 At some time during one of Nymbol's impromptu performances a few families were in the shop and trying on wings and playing around. Nymbol ran off and I came out and chatted with a few folks. One little girl had been dancing in our wings for ages. Her Grandmother with two older grandchildren handed me $40 and told me to collect the rest from who I assumed was her daughter. She said "it's a grandmother thing." The mom gave me a strange look and handed me the other $20. My friend Damon, who was being more astute than I at the time asked me if they were related. "It's her grandmother," I said. I thanked them as they left the shop and I noticed they went in different directions. "Wait a second," I asked. "Are you guys related???" I asked the grandmother."
"No?" she said with a smile on her face. I gave her a big hug and almost cried. I ran back in the store and got two little bottles of faerie dust to give to her actual granddaughters.

#5 Rainey. Rainey, Rainey. If this weekend hadn't already been filled with magic friends and mystery. On Saturday night Sam and I went over to visit Rainey and hear what she has been working on for "Nymbol's Secret Show." More than once I just sat their in shock. Nymbol and troop have been propelled to the next level by her words and music. Mukilteo Coffee here we come. (our show next Saturday) I cannot say how touched I am that she would dig so deep, sweat, write, and disregard her need for sleep to conjure up such a gift for Nymbol and his Troop. We met again Sunday morning to go over the run of show and were making each other laugh. I look forward to seeing how everyone reacts to what we are doing. I am excited and see this as the turning of the very big page in the book that will become Nymbol's journey. Thank you Rainey. You are amazing.

coincidence???

Do things happen by coincidence? I am not sure. I think there is a balance in universe that is maintained by folk bouncing off one another and making connections that can't be described.

Yesterday a lovely couple from Portland came in to the shop and mentioned how they drove by the night be before and "had" to come in. Skip and Amber were their names. Skip just finished a stint at sea on a cruise ship as a musician and He and Amber were having a reunion weekend here in Langley. I'll save you how Nymbol responded to this news but it was pretty funny. After hearing Skip played the Bass guitar we were intrigued and chatted about all the music in Langley. It was about then that Skip noticed one of our drums, pulled up a tiny red chair and started banging away. Not missing the moment Nymbol started to dance behind. It was lots of fun and we got a good spot of video from it. This is not the best part. That is coming.

After a bit of a laugh over Nymbol's dancing skill Amber went over to Nymbol's stage and said. "I used to have a bar just like that."
I paused for a moment. "I did buy this in Portland, It is probably yours." I said.

We looked at each other for a moment.

Then she asked "does it have a circular stain,....."

"on the top shelf?" I finished.

We then proceeded to chart it's history. Nymbol's is apparently the 4th owner of our now illustrious puppet stage once irish bar.

Amber purchased the bar for $1,200 and when she moved to her new smaller apartment sold it to a realtor friend for $75. The realtor turned around and sold it for $500 (figures) three years later to the husband of a Nike employee. Then it sat in the garage for 4 years until finally punted out to make room when I purchased it for $250. Tracking the owner of a Irish bar may or may not be that interesting. The interesting part is that Nymbol's stage is a symbol for us. It was a symbol that by it's sheer arrival it showed us that the decisions we were making had a cosmic timing to them. One that could not be ignore.

So if you see Skip and Amber at Nymbol's show come March,... Don't be surprised. It was meant to be.

Instant creativity.

Every once in a while you are in the flow of creativity. I had one of those moments last Wednesday. We had finished up a bunch of projects and I still wanted to dig in. I had a concept for making some goggles out of some really nice lenses I had. I made a template, drilled a bunch of holes and started to stitch. I struggled with the first pair but they came out o.k. Having learned what not to do I simplified my approach and in much less time I had a better looking pair. My next project was to put some lenses directly on a mask. I fought with it for a while but nothing was happening. I looked over the finished goggles and a thought hit me. Combine the two. I threaded the goggles into the mask and they fit perfectly. A couple pinches later and I knew I was on to something. For the next hour or so I pinched, reshaped and sliced. A void for a beak appeared. I saw it finished before I could get there. My hands trembled slightly because I was afraid I was going to muck it up. I created a beak, stitched it on only to realize I should have stitched it under and not over. I took the stitches out, added a little edge detail and then stitched the beak back on. I laughed out loud when I saw it complete. Time for bed now.

In the morning I was happy to see I hadn't dreamt the whole thing. It was still there. Now the truly hard part. What color to paint it. Nothing like having something you really like only to "%#^&*" it up with paint. I have learned that Black covers almost all mistakes and still looks pretty cool so it would never be a total loss. I think this deserved more. When I got to the shop I still couldn't decide. I put the thing on my head and walked over to the coffee shop to see if it had any ideas of it's own. Chocolate Brown and bronze was the answer. Could have been the triple chocolate cookie and Useless Bay coffee that inspired me but I knew what it had to be. I told Sam when I got back. She wasn't really feeling my description of the color but loved what I came up with. My confirmation came when Izzy ran over to it and asked if it could be her Halloween costume for next year. Always a good sign. I am off to make some more.

Violet your turning Violet

A few short weeks ago a small tribe entered our shop and we could instantly tell they were our kind of folks. Violet, in particular caught our attention. Standing about 5'4", sparkling eyes with a pile of Rasta hair with big bunches of purple in it. They were checking things out at a different level and wandering about really seeing what we had in the shop.

I need to digress for a moment. There is a strange phenomenon at our shop. With some folks it is as if a bunch of bridesmaids walked in expecting to see wedding gowns only to find an auto parts store. With wide eyes they do a big circle staying as far away from anything as possible and head out the door. Usually, with some convulsively smarmy comment they can't control. "hope you make it!?!" "We'll think of you if we are ever in the need of a new Turbo for our MiniVan." Although this comment was not uttered this one was. "ohhh,ummmm, I am sorry, we aren't creative. We are Republicans." This was funny on many levels but probably gives some republican somewhere a bad reputation. Or maybe not.
Back to Violet and crew. After cruising around a while I showed them Nymbol and Nymphaea and they really liked the puppets. What happened next I could not predict. Violet asked if I could make a wig like Nymphaea's hair for her. The collision of thoughts I had where hard to describe. I am sure it showed on my face. I had to imagine the whole process in my mind to completion. After what seemed like about 20 minutes I said "Sure. We could do that for you."
"What would that cost?" Violet asked.
This is one of the hardest questions to answer at the shop. More picturing, instant materials figuring, time spent, arrrrrgggghhhh.
I threw out a figure that was somewhere in reality land for both parties and wasn't greeted by the huge flinch I expected.
Violet went on. "I would really like that. Next Tuesday I go in to start Chemotherapy and I am going to loose my hair."

We talked a little more about her illness, and with the resolve of a champion athlete she was ready to head into the next few months. The whole meaning behind a leather wig just changed. At first request I was caught off guard but now it all made perfect sense. Nymbol's would be honored to do the project and we would find a way to make it work. We brainstormed, talked some more and came up with a plan. After the little tribe left Sam and I talked about how there is some real magic in our shop now. We could feel it.

What happened next I couldn't predict. When talking to Violet I had imagined how I might make the wig and was planning my time around it. What I didn't realize is that Sam really wanted to do this project and started jamming right away. I could see she was meant to do it.
Many hours and a couple days later the wig was complete. It looked great and we took a bunch of photos.

Sitting on a table in the shop the wig was a curiosity. Those with the sight were drawn to it. Others looked at it a though they were staring at a spark plug display.

The day before some meetings south Sam wrapped it up, made up a little "do it yourself" bag of beads and added a card. We loaded it carefully in the truck and I started my trip to Portland.

A couple days later after presenting some of my footwear projects and zipping all around portland I headed north again and stopped at Violet's to present the wig. I was greeted at the door by the same sparkly eyed Violet. This time without even a hint of the mop of Rasta hair she had before. She looked great and I was excited to show her what we had brought. The pictures tell the whole story really. It was a transformative experience. Nymbol was there to witness the whole event and I hope to share a photo of that soon. We had a nice visit and after bragging a bit about Nymbol and the show we are going to do I set off North again. As I looked at my watch I visualized the distance, lack of food, gas and time. The last ferry leaves for the island at 1:00 a.m. and it was going to be close.

for more pictures look at "nymbol's secret garden" facebook page.

Vintage Nymbol

...........I couldn't help it. While waiting for a meeting I was hanging out in a friends design studio. Everyone in the studio was in a meeting so I sat twiddling my thumbs on one those ergo chairs with the mesh backs. My work was done and I was just waiting to present. With nothing left to do I sat at Matt's computer with the thought of downloading a sketching program for him to try. I found it already there and used the 4th day of demo mode to do this little drawing above. I sat there giggling to myself as the drawing flowed out of me and my little friend here came to life. I was finally brought back by the sound of doors opening and voices cutting through the air. I jammed the mouse in the corner and the screensaver hid my work. I walked away to greet my friends. 15 minutes had flown by but more importantly as I headed down the hall into the meeting room I heard,..."what the???,....Nice Cass!!?!"

Open all Night

Imagine my surprise when you get a phone call that goes something like this. "hey, I was just calling to let you know that Nymbol's front door is unlocked and your open sign is still up."

Not good.

This is Thursday morning and the last time we were at the shop was late Monday night.
I wanted to blame Nymbol but he has been with us the whole time.
Fingers are pointed but that is pointless now.
I rush to the shop to find the door now locked but the open sign still up. After a quick look around I realize everything is still there. FeeeeeeeeYou.

Not only that,.... on the lower counter there is a little pile of money. "for the slippers" it says on one of our own business cards.
Later that day a cute little boy and his dad rode their bikes over to make sure we were actually there and not tied up in the back.
It was his parents that left the money and called around to make sure we would know about our front door.

It is truly heartening to know that there is still a little place in the world like Langley. A place were folks look out for one another.

Hello out there

Thus begins a new journey for Nymbol. A Blog. All this technology and so little time. Small fingers and claws make typing a difficult task so updates may come from other sources but know Nymbol has a very big influence in everything written here. He is currently making himself a cup of some nasty looking tea while spouting off all the things I should be typing. I will not and cannot say most of it but will do my best to condense into something palatable.

Where did Nymbol come from?

Nymbol is a creature that came into our lives a year ago last Halloween. I had done a drawing of him that that called out to me like no other I had done. It flowed out of me like no drawing ever had. I merely put pen to paper and my hand moved. It was very much like watching someone else draw. After it was finished I knew it was too good to just leave on the page alone so I put him in what I thought was a humorous situation. My wife called me laughing out loud two days later when she got it in the form of a card I chucked in the mail to her. Nymbol was off to a good start. I stuck it up on my wall but somehow I knew I needed to do more with it. From the page Nymbol started to make fun of me. Taunting me to get off my butt and do something. I actually looked over at it once and said "stop it" out loud. With just a little over two weeks to go before Halloween the idea slammed into me like a glass of icewater. Make a puppet yelled a voice in my head. It seemed so obvious but that makes no sense at all. There is nothing obvious about making a puppet. I had been working in this direction for many years but didn't know my skill set would align in such an odd way. Combine one part illustrator, one part shoe designer, One part leather mask maker, One part halloween geek, one part bike mechanic, three parts dad (who had been reading stories with puppets) all whipped together with imagination and this is what you get. See,...it makes no sense.

My design criteria was pretty simple. I wanted Nymbol to be made from all natural materials. Leather, glass, metal, bone. No plastic, no manmade crap of any kind. In 30+ years I want my kids to fight about where Nymbol will live next. I don't want them to open a box and see a yellowed disintegrating creature. I want them to see something they remember fondly and can still use to engage their children or grandchildren. This is most certainly a reaction to using all the "wonderful" materials and foams we put in footwear.

How the hell do you make a puppet when you have never done anything like that before?

Look at other stuff that is already done.

I went to the store and bought one of those colorful puppets you can change the eyes, ears, arms and legs on. I traced the pattern and started from there. I took me about 5 seconds to realize I was going to blow that one out of the water. From that moment on, the next week or so is a blur. I would get home from work "on time." Rush through dinner and beg like a 3 year old to be excused. My hands shook from the excitement of creating something and wanting to keep going. I made some mistakes, swore under my breath,gave more than a couple blood offerings, (very sharp leather stitching awl) and kept moving forward. After almost everything was done I was struggling with the hands and feet. They were too bulky, difficult to stitch and looked horrible. I started them over. It was then that a moment of inspiration struck and I discovered a new way to pinch the fingers and claws. I jumped up and showed Sam. Given the amount of time I had spent on this Nafarius project and not doing anything else around the house, she was unimpressed. Nymbol was on his way and my excitement was not lessened.

On the unseasonably warm weekend before Halloween Nymbol was ready to be painted. I stood outside with my airbrush and painted and texture my brains out. The most amazing thing happened during the next phase of Nymbol's birth. I had removed his eyes during painting and when I popped them back in I jumped back in shock. I felt like he was staring at me. I put him on my arm and walked into the house just before dinner time. Before I knew it Nymbol was talking to my girls and they were laughing. In celebration we were going to go out for hamburgers. "your bringing nymbol aren't you??" asked my Izzy. I hesitated. After an unimaginable internal battle I said "sure" with what must have been a very wide eyed look on my face. I had not thought this part of it out. Like it or not this puppet demanded to be brought out in the world. Puppets and stories shared with my kids was one thing. The rest of the world was different. Instant "spinchter pucker."

Our first trip to Burgerville proved to be insightful in so many ways. The first and most important was that kids loved him instantly. A small gaggle hovered around our table engaging my newly born little friend. Laughter was nearly a byproduct of his presence. We also learned that most adults could not see him. I say this seriously. Many adults would walk by with kids in tow and were so taken aback, oblivious, uncomfortable or into there own world that a small green creature eating french fries was invisible. This is an amazing magic. Over the next couple days I put this to test and found to my amazement it was absolutely true.

The next day was Halloween. I prepared the entry I glanced back into the back yard to the hole where our cherry tree used to stand. It had been leaning heavily to one side and threatened to take out our neighbors shed. It had one of those hollow, creepy looking holes that was eating at it's core. An answer came to me. We had just cut down Nymbol's home and that is why he needed to stay with us. The story was creating itself.

Halloween night. After a little practice Nymbol was ready to greet trick or treaters in our entrance way. He stayed home while the rest of the family headed out for their own treats.

Nymbol did not quite get the concept. He ate most of the candy left for the guests and tried to substitute some dirty old socks. He opted for tricks trying to preserve what candy was left. That is a concept he understood but seemed to be lost on the costumed wee ones coming through the door.

"no treats, only tricks here!" he would say.

The kids just stood there dumbfounded. A dirty sock thrown in their direction did not help but it did get a good laugh. It was addictive. Eventually Nymbol would give them a piece of his dwindling treasure.

There was much laughter and more visitors than ever. The age of cell phones meant that Visitors were calling their friends to make sure they made it by our house to meet Nymbol. He was a hit.

There were a couple stunning observations made that night. Boys under a certain age want to punch Nymbol in the face or hit him over the head. Apparently, this happens a great deal and he wasn't phased.

Others offered him a finger to smell or bite.

"I don't know where that has been? Why would I want to bite it?

These all seemed like honest questions. How many people offer their finger for you to bite? Is this some sort of lost mating ritual? I really don't know.

It took Nymbol a week of so to come down from the high of Halloween. In that time Nymbol told stories to the girls every night.

Adding to the growing list of things I didn't expect was to have ready was his entire back story. He told what he remembered but there are still questions. One thing has proved for certain. This small green friend was putting the wheels in motion to change our lives. Writing now, a year later, I can't believe it. What I do believe is that magic still exists and you only need to believe in order to see it.