The New Face of Soilutions, part 2

For a look at what it takes to re-do a "simple" sign, go to: http://www.actualcreative.com/presentations/soilutions/


The original sign was a "Bates Lumber" sign (we are situated on the same property as the old Bates Lumber Mill), so the structure itself is probably 30-40 years old. You know us: re-use when ever possible.

The first question I had for Danny was how quickly it would get "tagged" by the local graffiti-ists. He said that the culture among the artists prohibited covering up or tagging a well-done mural: honor among thieves so to speak.

I suppose that last comment is unfair, at least to Danny. Here in Albuquerque, spray paint is considered a blight to communities performed by thugs and deadbeats. Obviously, to others outside our area, i.e., New york City, it is an art performed by artists.

Once again, I am enlightened by a customer.

Fun with Recycling: part 3

From this:



to this:



These gates are "dutch" meaning the top portions open while the bottom portions can remain closed, keeping the dogs inside the courtyard. There are no metal fasteners in these gates: just mortise and tenon joinery.

While the other projects I have shown take very little time and skill to construct, these gates took about a weekend worth of time and some specialized tools.

Fun with Recycling-- part 2

Although not nearly as easy to make as the swing set in the previous post, here is a beautiful garden bell made from an used acetylene tank. After cutting off the bottom with a torch, the artist sanded the inside and out. If you look closely, southwestern icons are welded to the outside. A professional powder coat of paint was then applied for durability.

This bell has no clanger; a deep rich tone is achieved by rapping it with a wooden mallet.

This bell is a valuable piece to our garden puzzle, all the more so because the material was diverted from the landfill. We ring ours to summon the kids to dinner, to summon the spirits to tea, to welcome the sun and to bid the day goodbye. We whack it when we're angry, we rub it when we're pensive.