Light Bulbs
The top bulb in a lamp that I use all the time has burned out, and I can't find another. That lamp is in fact this one, the most beautiful and involved stained glass project that I've managed to complete so far.
Both the base and the shade section light up independently. I used a commercial pattern for the base -- I'll bet you don't know how I got if off the styrofoam mold without damaging the mold, since it tapers inward at both ends -- but I designed the pattern for the shade myself. The project required cutting, wrapping, and soldering over 660 pieces of glass.
It's called a Bradley Peony lamp. A company produced a series of patterns on this kind of lamp, based on floral designs and inspired by the incredible Tiffany workers of long ago. But the designs are so involved, with so much cutting to do, that I would bet few stained glass people make these lamps. I myself had been doing stained glass for so short a time that I had no business trying it so early. But I was hopelessly intrigued by the design and by the lighted base. You don't see many lamps with lighted bases. And there was absolutely nothing at stake, and so....
All in all I think this lamp came out pretty well, and I look at it with amazement that I did it, though the soldering isn't all that it might be, and now, a couple of years later, I still haven't gotten that part of the process down to my satisfaction. I don't know the cause. Shaky hands?.
.
A person should be able to put his hands on a new light bulb right when he needs one, especially when his vision isn't all that it might be if he was still 10 years old.
I can't find a new light bulb because every time more than one guest is due to come, especially my wife's book club, she goes into a cleaning and reordering frenzy that results in important stuff, like new light bulbs in the basket where they're supposed to be, disappearing where they can't easily be found.
.There's a lot of stuff in this house, but its space is finite. Our stash of good light bulbs must be around here somewhere. And also there's always the ancient and honorable art of bulb-snatching, though the neatest and cleanest thing to do would be to call my wife and ask. But that would require the use of the telephone and a long distance calling card that involves hitting a grand total of 34 numbers, which, what with the usual mysterious snafus, usually takes me five or six tries, and then more likely than not, because women have 30 percent more verbal abilities than men, the line will be busy.
Telephones are not nearly as key to happiness as light bulbs.
Both the base and the shade section light up independently. I used a commercial pattern for the base -- I'll bet you don't know how I got if off the styrofoam mold without damaging the mold, since it tapers inward at both ends -- but I designed the pattern for the shade myself. The project required cutting, wrapping, and soldering over 660 pieces of glass.
It's called a Bradley Peony lamp. A company produced a series of patterns on this kind of lamp, based on floral designs and inspired by the incredible Tiffany workers of long ago. But the designs are so involved, with so much cutting to do, that I would bet few stained glass people make these lamps. I myself had been doing stained glass for so short a time that I had no business trying it so early. But I was hopelessly intrigued by the design and by the lighted base. You don't see many lamps with lighted bases. And there was absolutely nothing at stake, and so....
All in all I think this lamp came out pretty well, and I look at it with amazement that I did it, though the soldering isn't all that it might be, and now, a couple of years later, I still haven't gotten that part of the process down to my satisfaction. I don't know the cause. Shaky hands?.
.
A person should be able to put his hands on a new light bulb right when he needs one, especially when his vision isn't all that it might be if he was still 10 years old.
I can't find a new light bulb because every time more than one guest is due to come, especially my wife's book club, she goes into a cleaning and reordering frenzy that results in important stuff, like new light bulbs in the basket where they're supposed to be, disappearing where they can't easily be found.
.There's a lot of stuff in this house, but its space is finite. Our stash of good light bulbs must be around here somewhere. And also there's always the ancient and honorable art of bulb-snatching, though the neatest and cleanest thing to do would be to call my wife and ask. But that would require the use of the telephone and a long distance calling card that involves hitting a grand total of 34 numbers, which, what with the usual mysterious snafus, usually takes me five or six tries, and then more likely than not, because women have 30 percent more verbal abilities than men, the line will be busy.
Telephones are not nearly as key to happiness as light bulbs.
posted by Carl (aka Sofarsogoo) | 12:20 PM
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