The Process
Like the recipe for "Pterodactyl Stew", first, find the Pterodactyl. The most important ingredient in my art is finding the right object and I might only find only one piece a month, but I am always looking. Some pieces scream out what they will be, while others require much thought.
Then comes the cleaning, which can take an hour or a couple of days. Then the composition,
how will it hang, how large will it be, what contours do I want to highlight, what features are
hidden under the surface? Can it work on its own or does it need additional elements?
Do I have the extra pieces or do I need to find them? How best to reshape, refit, rejoin and repaint?
Then comes the actual pounding, cutting, grinding, welding and regrinding. Do I continue in the same direction or has it started to transform itself. Often, I come to a temporary roadblock and must leave the project alone until It tells me what it needs or I find more pieces, this step has taken as long as 6 months. Then comes the design alteration, which means more pounding, cutting, grinding, welding and regrinding. This step continues until I feel the composition is done.
Finally comes the finish and no more power tools. All of the finish work is done by hand.
There is no short cut to this process. I must preserve the existing distressed patina and yet improve it,
often with as many as 20-30 coats of paint, which requires hand sanding between each coat.
This is by far the most exhausting part of my work and yet the most fascinating.
I never know which will be the final coat, until I realize, I can't make it any better than it is right now.
Then comes 10 coats of wax.
The reward is knowing that because no two pieces have the same exposure to the elements, each work is truly one of a kind. This process evolved over 7 years and the ultimate thrill is that I never know exactly how a piece will turn out. It is always a wonderful surprise.