dispatch 25_007 Lychgate Part III

May 29, 2025 in Uncategorized

Please enjoy the following music as I did these past few weeks:

Camp Taghkanic. Or a great place to parlay with the French on the battlefield.

This project has had more interruptions than AOL dial-up porn. I've been regularly having to reset my brain and reference my notes on almost every aspect. Thankfully, no major errors have occurred. The weather was mostly forgiving. It's either a week of hot and dry or a week of cold and rainy. That makes it a little more easier to schedule.

Top plate for the posts. Some deep mortises in there.

Assembly is fun when the joinery is perfectly balanced. Too snug of a fit is, at best, frustrating and exhausting, at worst, can rupture the housing. Thankfully, I nailed it this time. Who knows about next time.

First assembly took 12 minutes. Second assembly took... all fucking afternoon. Something was off with the tenon length and mortise depth and I couldn't figure out where. It's also not easy to slide them in and out by yourself in the baking sun. After three lemon spindrifts, and a few dozen four letter explicatives I persevered.

Here's me swinging this 30lb maple (acer platanoides) convincer. Also called a "Beatle."

What's square enough? I think this is square enough. Never mind that strap on the left under tension and barely hanging on by a thread. I promise it isn't about the snap. It was subsequently retired to the garbage afterwards.

The trunnels, or pegs if you please, are hand rived out of black locust (robinia pseudoacacia). I'm very pleased with the tightness of this joinery.

Talk about a blow-out. When I was banging this trunnel into place it must've hit the block underneath.

Raising the assemblies wasn't nearly as difficult as I thought it would be. We used the excavator to lift them. What's not shown is the 3/4" stainless threaded rods I anchored into the plinths. They protrude out of the concrete 6." This means we had to lift the assembly higher than 6" above the concrete to let the sill slide down onto the rods. The excavator barely gave us an eighth of an inch clearance above that.

I know, none of that made sense and pictures or video footage would've been preferable. Sorry. Better luck next time. Maybe I'll remember a camera and tripod.

There were some unresolved design issues with the retaining rock wall and where the access gates and fencing would be. The masons would be onsite the days I wasn't there so I had to draft a quick plan and leave it for them. Remarkably, they had no questions in English, Spanish, or Spanglish. They nailed it exactly as I drew.

Off-site and back in the grotto I had to fabricate the scissor trusses. This was a lot of fun. I drew my plans on a piece of MDF (gross) and then transferred all the lines for the joinery.

Acro-Carpentry. 5 days crawling around, chiseling, sawing, and planing on the floor. Whenever I do floor work for a long time I desperate desire an elephant to walk on my back in the evenings.

To tighten up the joinery I ran my saw through all the kerfs to get better alignment and fit for all the shoulders.

Odd perspective for size here. She's a very big dog. 100 pounds and about 27" tall at the shoulders. The truss is 7 1/2' long on either side.

What I haven't talked about yet is the carving on the trusses. Lychgates exist only in relation to churches and cemeteries. There are always carvings or religious motifs involved in them. From the onset of this project I knew I was going to carve phrases into the trusses but was unsure exactly what.

I settled on a phrase from the book "Rules For A Knight" written by Ethan Hawke. Yes, that Ethan Hawke. It goes like this:

Every knight holds human equality as an unwavering truth-
A knight is never present when men or women are degraded or-
Compromised in any way because if a knight were present-
Those committing the hurtful acts or words would be made to stop |

I carved this in a lettering style called Half-Uncial which is completely English/Celtic/Gaelic/Broadly-British through and through. Architecturally appropriate, more or less. It's also one of my favorites.

It just kind of settles in there nicely I think. I want to build things that look like they've been there a minute. I want my structures to have a very real balance between its environment and its users. I want them to have a mature presence that is not distressed but seasoned. Almost as if you're too many generations removed from knowing the builders. Maybe I'll achieve this one day.

Next up is installing the cedar shakes on the roof. After that the gates, fence, and lattice. Speaking of lattice, 1 of the 2.75 dedicated readers of these dispatches will remember the lattice railing I did on the north end of the property last winter. It's aging very beautifully and receiving the Chinese wisteria (wisteria sinsensis) well.

MTF.

dispatch 25_006 Lychgate Part Deux

April 20, 2025 in Uncategorized

Please enjoy the following music as I did these past weeks:

Gene Vincent - Cat Man

Imelda May - Johnny Got A Boom Boom

Beirut - Gallipoli

The weather has finally gone from erratic spring to early mild summer. It's building time. I needed to resolve some truss and rafter issues that just weren't translating from my brain to paper. So I went ahead with a 1:6 scale model from the shittiest pine in the scrap bin.

I suppose I was too lazy to use the nice red balau or alaskan yellow cedar. Never again. My last count of inventory showed 51 species of wood on hand. That's too much. Too many options makes me a neurotic tyrant.

The scissor trusses (or also known as St Andrews Crosses) and the rafters will also be made from some spectacular white oak I milled two years ago on the banks of the Hudson River.

Knee's being cut from 10/4 white oak stock.

After committing to proportions and measurement I had enough information to make a pattern for the knees (brackets) to keep the posts square with the beam and sill.

Part of my building process is authenticity with historical design but also authenticity in practice. I want my building process to be visible in the finished product. Simply put, I want the "finish" to be from the tool, not a product.

For example, people seem to "oooh" and "awww" when they see the track marks from the axe or adze on hand-hewn 300 year old beams. One person told me they thought that was a deliberate texture added after the fact to make it look "rustic."

While one could be deliberate or decorative with their chisel, gouge, or axe during the preparation process, it isn't a completely separate aesthetic step. At least not in large scale framing. Before the 21st century there was no spare time to be wasted. 4 of your 7 kids are dying from the pox, there is no relief for your gout, you have to be half-drunk all day to avoid dysentery, and most likely there are enemies scouting your crops. You aren't polishing your oak beams.

I could have run these through the jointer and planer, then run a router around the edges for moulding, etc. But then it would be so perfect that the entire project must follow suit. Too much. I also don't like loud noises and saw dust (except chainsaws). Using really well made blades is much more fun.

Support your local blacksmith.

But seriously, why would you not want to use this 7" bearded hewing axe all day?

Instead I dressed down the rough stock with a compass plane, gouged out the moulding beads and softened the edges where needed. Some spots still have some chainsaw mill marks. It's a practical and real aesthetic. And to be honest, it looks handsome as fuck in person.

There are times when I need something perfectly milled square, flat, perpendicular, planed, and polished. Just not this project.

This model has been traveling around like the Travelocity Gnome.

A mix of my high-speed steel Japanese timber chisels and my French Arno slicks makes nice quick work of these soaking wet knotty white oak posts.

Can we talk about that medullary ray fleck? Zoom in on that. To die for. No, really, let's talk about it. Send me your thoughts.

Since there's going to be a lot of decoration and some phrases carved into the rafters I decided to practice on the same material. I started a new frog made from the same white oak boule.

New favorite pocket axe from Jason Lonon in North Carolina.

MTF.

dispatch 25_005 Northern red oak | quercus rubra

April 09, 2025 in Uncategorized

Please enjoy the following music as I did the past few weeks:

Sandra McCracken and David Ramirez - Running On Empty

Pearl Jam - Rear View Mirror

Shiny Toy Guns - Major Tom

New 32" Sugi-Hara bar. As DZ would say, "I see the Japanese and Germans are conspiring again."

I received a delivery (from 4 doors down) of northern red oak (quercus rubra). This was a substantially massive red oak that I've watched growing for my entire life. With plenty of sun and minimal competition, this was a very fast growing tree. If using deciduous trees for building and strength is primary factor, this is what you want. Large, thick, summer growth rings. For character or workability, smaller, tighter, older growth rings are more desirable.

This is a 6x6" of White Oak (quercus alba). It has 115 growth rings or roughly 25 per inch. That's old growth. Great for figure and carving. Still very strong by nature of it's size.

This red oak log has about 68 rings and is 26" wide. Noticeable difference.

I won't bore the read with why this is the case for deciduous trees and not necessarily the case for conifers. Maybe another time.

Much of the straight timbers I decided to rive out in the traditional manner. Riving is just like splitting firewood just in a larger scale. This is how structures were built before saws. This method will always produce the best timber in almost every way except economics.

Since I am the world's foremost authority on how NOT to be a good businessman and I reject all things economic or sensible, I gravitate towards methods like this.

Firstly, it's a lot of work. Like a lot.

following the natural spiral to the trees growth.

All trees are under various conditions of tension (separating forces) and compression (condensing forces). This produces persisting growth patterns/grain direction in the timber that aren't always visible to the naked eye. A saw will indiscriminately cut through these forces and when the board starts to dry it may warp respective to those directions.

Not only that, you might cut a straight board and it dries straight but the grain runs out at an angle producing a weaker board.

Riving out follows the naturally weak points and growth patterns in the wood thereby relieving the stress. In oak especially, it also produces the most beautiful medullary ray fleck.

30 riven billets waiting to be dimensioned smaller.

I'm usually milling on site or wherever the tree came down. Definitely not on my front lawn. But I had no choice with these beasts. The amount of attention I've been getting from passersby is unnerving.

I guess it's abnormal to see a guy sledgehammering iron and wood wedges into giant timber all day and sorting them out without equipment. Some of my favorite encounters:

Person 1: "Wow. I hope you have a lot of BenGay for tonight."

No, why don't you bring some over.

Person 2: "Doesn't that hurt?"

The timber or me?

Person 3: "Are you going to build something?"

I suppose so.

Person 4: "But WHERE did this come from?"

Well, (as I gesture around in 360º) we seem to be surrounded by trees.

I guess people are unencumbered by the sound of a 95cc chainsaw running at full throttle for about 20 minutes straight at each interval. They'll just stop and stare awkwardly waiting to say something to me. One guy was walking to the dentist office and wanted to stop and chat about the history of local greenhouses from 200 years ago. I guess I'm savvy enough to chat about that and make his day...

About ten rings back (ten years) this branch was cut by saw. Look at the growth closing in around it.

One of the many things I love about dissecting trees is seeing a narrative of the past. In front of me I have decades of information mapping out the local climate, growing conditions, soil composition, human interference, etc.

Just like imagery analysis, you can slowly build a very detailed narrative. Even if you never witnessed the tree standing.

And it never fails with yard trees– A piece of hardware someone jammed in there about 35 years ago. Big bolt.

Fun fact, iron and oak don't mix well. The tannins in oak will stain the oak black and if prolonged with moisture can destroy the wood. You can delicately use this to your advantage to ebonize the wood black if that's the desired aesthetic.

This big chonka was 37" wide. I was not going to rive this. Riving only works with straight timber free of branches or knots. This one needed to be slabbed with the Alaskan. And it produced some seriously gorgeous timber.

If you zoom in you can see the medullary ray fleck I was referring to spraying out from that knot.

Each one of these slabs is 2 1/4" x 36"x 98" and weigh about 350 pounds. No, not the biggest slabs. I've moved bigger. Much bigger.

Person 5: " But how will you move these?"

Ancient aliens.

It's usually the case that help is not on the way. There is no QRF standing by. I just need to figure it the fuck out or else I miss out on this resource.

Stacked, stickered, and ends glued. Here they wait for a couple years.

Person 6: "I once thought about getting an Alaskan."

Cool. Don't forget your BenGay.

https://youtu.be/39TzkPPXxBo?si=pBLjdRJ9v91yznfG

Here's some fun news. The DoD has decided to stop importing restricted exotic timber for its trailer decking and start using domestic red oak. Wow. I'm flabbergasted and inspired by the logic here.

MTF.

dispatch 25_004 Lychgate part I

March 30, 2025 in Uncategorized

Please enjoy the following music as I did these past few weeks:

Lindi Ortega - Necromancer

Jack White - Lazaretto

Timber Timbre - Demon Host

Lychgate plan with lattice and access gates.

A lychgate is a common architectural piece in the British Isles. It's just a roofed gate between the outer area of a church and the inner cemetery. Figuratively, it's a threshold between worlds. For a dozen reasons there are deep cultural significances to these.

I've left out specific design elements, carvings, and motifs from the plans because I honestly don't know what I'm doing with it yet. I usually build this way. I tend to only commit to the next 3 or 4 steps with a general idea of the finished project. there are just too many factors to consider upfront. Working in the gray-zone is where I thrive.

Typically these were made of English oak (quercus rober). Since I'm not English and not in England, I'll be substituting Eastern white oak (Quercus alba) which is a little harder and hardier. Less brown than English oak but that doesn't matter much for the exterior. It'll age to a lovely other-worldly silver.

I won't be ushering any corpses into the next realm of existence at the moment. For now, the threshold I'm building will separate a large hillside with the garden and chicken coop.

There was previously a nasty, large, rotting gate here before. The doors were unusable and the area just became a dumping ground. One had to gingerly remove one of the fence panels on hinges to gain access and then lean heavy steel plates against it to keep it shut.

Well, that's some kind of threshold. Let's get a little classier. I spent the better part of the day knocking everything down and clearing the land. It was a pleasure to have some diesel power by my side, for once. You cannot tell from the photo but we are on the mountain side, so the soil is heavily fortified with massive stones. The younger me would've insisted I do this all by hand. Not sure that's a healthy way to continue on into my 40's.

https://youtube.com/shorts/TCsYUGt7iNg?feature=share

Naturally, while operating the excavator I'm reenacting scenes from 2014 film Fury all day.

Two shallow graves for myself and whomever wants to join me.

Even with an excavator there's still an incredible amount of ground work by hand. These big hulking machines can be only so surgical.

The foundation is going to act like a stone wall would. I flatted 3' below grade with a layer of large stones packed into the dirt then leveled and tamped with 3/4" crushed stone, giving a bed to receive the concrete plinths.

The plinths are 7" wide, 55" long, and taper to 10" at the base 30" down. I loaded rebar in there and drove the vertical rebar 18" into the ground. I ran out of wire for the rebar and had to use zip-ties instead. Shhhh, don't tell anyone. SE is shaking his head in shame right now and TR is nodding saying "genius!"

I *think* it will be fine. I left an apology note for the poor bastard who has to rebuild this in 100 years.

I then backfilled with more mountain stone and dirt compacted.

After grading the soil there was so much upheaval that it became a massive mud pit. And those plinths are exposed too proudly. I don't want concrete to be showing for the gate, it will throw off the entire aesthetic. Concrete is just so ugly and soulless. It just smacks too much of soviet block construction. See: brutalism.

I had 3.5 tons of 1.5" stone aggregate delivered to fill the area and firm up the soil. Shoveling 1.5" crushed stone sucks. Please, don't try it. Hire someone. This brought the ground about 1" below the plinth line. Perfect for receiving pea gravel when the project is finished.

One of the 11 residents of the aptly named "Cock Inn." They all are very curious about what's been happening. It seems they are eager to help as I see them copying my movements and trying hard to dig as I dig.

Speaking of fowl and feathered friends, I finished another raven's head. I mounted it up on the rafters of the grotto facing one of outdoor working areas. It's nice to have some top cover. I'm curious to see if the real raven that is following me around lately will come by and look at it.

Eastern white pine (pinus strobus) charred and rubbed in pine tar.

Next week I'll write about the beefy timbers of Northern red oak (quercus rubra) I had delivered. Lot's to mill.

MTF.

dispatch 25_003 subtraction part II

March 15, 2025 in Uncategorized

Please enjoy the following music as I have these past...couple months:

My Morning Jacket - Regularly Scheduled Programming

El Búho - Strata

Joe Strummer - Earthquake Weather

Raven's head. Black walnut, juglans nigra.

Winter is over. Spring has sprung and with it comes the spring slaughter. This winter was punishing. I can't remember a winter this bad. But somehow, I survived. Maybe being occupied with my obsession with Haida and Tlingit woodcarving got me through.

Atlantic white cedar log flitch from the milling leftovers from the previous lattice build.

Frog just chilling on the exterior of the grotto. Atlantic white cedar, chamaecyparis thyoides.

After I finished the shark (per request from my daughter) I spent time copying a beaver made by Charles Edenshaw. He was a famous and well respected Haida woodcarver that's regarded as the "Michelangelo of the Pacific Northwest." I think it's a great idea to compulsively copy great art until it morphs into something uniquely yours. Or until you are so great at copying that you're being paid top dollar for reproductions or forgeries. I don't have the patience to do something twice.

I think I learned the necessary lessons and had no desire to refine and smooth this beaver. I left the beaver raw. Eastern white pine, pinus strobus.

Working out some frog details. JP-curb your excitement.

I refer back to Juan. Juan is an architect, artist, and mentor that taught me figure-drawing (among many other things) in college. We became good friends. During a live drawing session he once snuck over my shoulder and in his thick Venezuelan accent said "amigo, you're losing the grace of the breast." He then took the pencil and redrew the breast of the model on my paper.

Juan's daily mantra was "then again, keep moving." He was old school. He went to art school when laziness and emotional sensitivity were not tolerated. He emphasized the importance of speed drills and continually drafting and sketching. Moving is all I've been trying to do this winter. I've just been carving on scraps on timber, loosely, and with reckless abandon. I'm essentially sketching three-dimensionally. No expectations.

As I continue to pare away the waste more and more I've noticed I'm also paring away the noise in my life. The meaningless chatter of the day is being scooped out and flung on the ground like a wood shaving. My dreams have been even more potent and bizarre than they've ever been. It's as if I'm rewiring my brain.

This looks small but it's a 6x10x48" chunk of tight grain western red cedar, thuja plicata. I decided to carve a raven and frog with a connecting tongue. In Northwest coast lore and art if two animals tongues were connected it meant they were communicating.

Being forced to stay in the grotto means I'm forced to used small scrap timber. Milling from large stock was not an option because of the weather. But this is liberating because it's freeing up necessary space. I'm surrounded by scrap wood and offcuts that I'm too neurotic to get rid of. Most woodworkers are like this. But now I've become engulfed in a sea of detritus like a real beaver. Using small stock frees up space in both the grotto and my mind.

It was my daughter that really got me to not be so precious and use what remains. Since she was 5 she would follow me around my working area and steal all the small offcuts and squirrel them away in her bedroom. She'd draw little images and phrases on them and then leave them somewhere for me to find. She called them "artifacts."

She doesn't do this much anymore. But I've picked up the habit.

I've been working on this crow's head. Back in October a crow flew into the grotto, did 3 spins over my desk and then flew out the door. I couldn't believe what I was watching. Crow's are much bigger than you'd think. Wingspan is about 40." It was a great distraction.

Carving will slow down but not stall now that thaw is here and I'll be back to work. I've several large projects beginning tomorrow. But making time to continue to carve is a priority for me.

Last dispatch I promised some chainsaw talk.

The weather was agreeable for a day in January and I was able to out in the field and mill some black cherry. It was a great deal of fun.

https://youtu.be/1cosK3QqPa4

You can see that I'm see-sawing (excuse the alliterative pun) the saw. I was a little greedy and refused to sharpen the teeth on the 5th cut of this frozen log. I subsequently sharpened.

MTF

dispatch 25_002 subtraction

January 29, 2025 in Uncategorized

Please enjoy the following music as I did these dark winter days

Jim White-Drill A Hole In That Substrate And Tell Me What You See

Kasey Chambers-Lose Yourself

I've been noticing the accumulation of things the older I get. Not just material things, for I am a timber hoarder, but also the intangibles. Experiences are accumulated along with relationships, knowledge, emotions, responsibilities, ideas, and visions. For me, it's becoming a bit overbearing. All that residue from the highway mileage tends to cake onto the undercarriage.

My entire woodworking life (over twenty years of thoughtful or paid building) has been predicated on the idea of an "additive process." Things need to be joined. Hence the classic term for a woodworker as a "joiner." The peak of this skill was when I dove headfirst into Japanese joinery where the joints were intricate, structural, and elegant. I was definitely chasing the skill but also the labor and the end result.

An example of how one might join two posts or beams together. This traditional Japanese scarfing joint is called a "kanawa tsugi."

Joining is taxing. It also implies that the structure is growing, getting larger. And after years of working on large heavy timbers by myself with exhaustive joinery, I'm a little tired. Or at least craving some simplicity.

Carving or sculpting is the antithesis of joining. It's a "subtractive" process; eliminating all that doesn't serve the end state. As I pare away more and more material, the object becomes smaller, lighter, more manageable. I think this is what attracted me to carving to begin with; the paring away of unhelpful or obstructing material in my life.

Still, I don't think this subtractive process is possible without the accumulation of the miles for myself or the growth rings for the timber. Otherwise, there'd be nothing to pare back.

Haida-style frog. Atlantic white cedar | chamæcyparis thyoides.

This Haida style frog was fun to carve. All I did was find an off cut of some of my Atlantic white cedar and went for it without much consideration other than basic symmetry and traditional motif. Committing to this process of "unthinking" is the most difficult part but also the most rewarding.

The white stringy and spongey sapwood was completely undesirable and a pain to carve. But the pink and yellow heartwood was like slicing into frozen butter. Such a pleasure. I wish I had removed more of the sapwood before starting. It's best to just move on instead of refining this. I want to keep the momentum going.

Stealing more traditional Haida/Tlingit motifs.

I asked my daughter what I should carve next, keeping the Pacific Amerindian styles going. I thought a beaver. She said shark. I was going to ignore her request and stick to the beaver but then I found another off cut of the white cedar that was just begging to be carved into a shark.

I could write a whole dispatch on how fascinated I am by Pacific Northwest Amerindian art and the nuances, skill, and cultural meaning behind it. But I think I'll save that for another time. Not sure anyone reading here is nearly as fascinated as I am.

That's enough introspection. By now you're well past ready to flush the toilet or the highway traffic from the rubberneckers has lightened up. Next week I'll get back to big chainsaws and sharp blades. I recently milled some black cherry (prunus serotina) that yielded something special.

MTF.

dispatch 25_001 Critical Mass

January 23, 2025 in Uncategorized

Or a tactical retreat

Currently writing from the doldrums of winter. It’s 4°F ( 277°K) outside. It’s been an effort to keep the grotto hovering at 50° which now feels tropical while 40° is a welcome reality.

In my head it was still July until about a week before Christmas. July allows for 14 hour work days, 6-7 days a week. If I’m not paying attention and if the climate behaves in unique ways (like 80° days in early November) I will keep that habit straight into winter. When winter finally arrives I’m left with a series of frustrations and angsts as I fight the 8 hour sunlight and sub-freezing temperatures and god-forbid feet of snow. This gets me…every year.

Critical Mass is defined as “the minimum amount of fissile material needed to maintain a nuclear chain reaction.” Or, since I’m not a just an atomic particle, the minimum amount of bandwidth to keep any gig going.

I think I allow myself to become completely depleted each season to force myself into the introspective and dark reflection that winter requires. Because I can't just go quietly into the night voluntarily. For those that don’t live in a place with seasons, you might have no idea what I’m talking about. But it terms of building, creating, or anything involving the outdoors, things come to a creeping halt for 4-ish weeks. At least. You can fight it all you want but it’ll yield nothing other than stress.

It was my daughter that forced me to pour myself a big bowl of chill-the-fuck-out this year. For us it was July, then it was Christmas. She asked we enjoy hot beverages, listen to music, watch old-timey movies, and carve wood. So, carve wood we did. It started with a wolf mask that looks more like my dog than a wolf. It was certainly nothing to write home about in terms of craft or execution but it did something completely necessary. It bridged where my head was to where my head currently is. Carving.

Alaska yellow cedar | cupressus nooktatensis

It’s very easy to ignore the body and its needs. Adulting doesn’t help. If the body is saying “I need a nap” there’s a reason. If it’s saying “I really need a piece of red meat” there’s a reason. Similarly, art and creating is the same thing. After an exhausting 9 months, my head and hands said “I just need to carve wood. I would really like to stop overthinking, over-designing, and over-building. I just want to carve and take a break.”

We then went on to find scrap laying around and make things like this magnetic knife holder. Is it a burning heart? A goat’s head? A Goblin face? Or butt cheeks? I don’t know. But it’s just another small bridge.

I had a few other small builds for workshop infrastructure that I needed to get out of the mind. One of those was a new saw till that fits better on the wall and allows space for more incoming saws. I chose narrow curved slab of mulberry that I milled 3 years ago. It was perfect because the pith of the slab needed to removed which lead to the perfect use of this slab.

Not sure what is happening yet with these ginkgo-shaped carvings. But I have an idea to frame a large 36x60” mirror with a 4” wide black walnut frame with these dancing shapes fluttering around. For now, I’ll just rough it all out and see what happens. I've a hundred ideas in my head for carving. I'd be foolish to not pull on this string. If anything, for my own mental and physical health. For me, right now, the important thing is the un-thoughtful process. I burn an incredible amount of calories just considering composition and design of a particular project. That is, the paid jobs. I'm starting to realize the rewarding results from the lack of over designing or overthinking a process. Clearly the knowledge is still there, tucked away. But without the burden of consideration the process becomes unencumbered by options or variety.

The collage below was an exercise I did about 15 years ago. I tore random pieces from magazines, photocopied them to black & white, and pasted them together in a random (seemingly) orientation under the pressure of a 15 minute timer. The result was something visually striking that compositionally works.