House No. 194: Toll House

House No. 194: Toll House

cookie dough

10 in. x 12 in. x .75 in. thick

194/365; 07/13/11

Directions for Making a Toll House [Recipe from Nestlé]
2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
1 cup [2 sticks or 1/2 pound] butter, softened
3/4 cup granulated sugar
3/4 cup packed brown sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 large eggs
2 cups [one 12 oz. package] semi-sweet chocolate chips
1 cup chopped nuts (optional) [I recommend English walnuts]

COMBINE flour, baking soda and salt. In separate bowl, beat butter, sugar and vanilla. Add eggs. Gradually beat in the dry ingredients. Stir in additions. Mold onto ungreased cookie sheet into shape of house making sure that no part is thinner than the other to prevent burning. Lining your pan with foil, parchment, or a silicone sheet is  helpful for moving the cookie and for clean-up.

BAKE in preheated 375-degree°[F] oven for for 20 to 25 minutes or until golden brown. [I turned pan halfway through to promote even cooking.]

SCORE warm cookie with dinner knife.

COOL on pan on wire rack.

REMOVE excess cookie from house using a fork for the tight window openings.

House No. 175: Cuckoo Clock

 

House No. 175: Cuckoo Clock
digital vector illustration
3 in. x 3 in.
175/365; 06/24/11

Today’s house is home to a cuckoo bird.

House No. 116: Beach House

House No. 116: Beach House
pencil, ink, white out tape, and acrylic paint on repurposed matboard
10.75 in. x 6.5 in.
116/365; 04/26/11


I found this piece of mat board on its way to the trash* in my classroom. It was almost a finished piece without my adding to it. When I looked at it, I saw a beach landscape. I just added the details to create a house from the indications of one that I already saw there.

As I tell my students, we have to see before we can create. This is a perfect example of that.

I added the graphite, the white acrylic paint, and that one white stripe on the sand.


*Honestly, some of our students don't seem to have clue as to what they are throwing away.

House No. 100: Nest

House No. 100: Nest

hair, straight pins, quail's egg
2 in. x 2 in. x 1.5 in., with egg
2 in. x 2 in. x 1 in., without egg
100/365; 04/10/11

Nesting is about preparation and creating a sense of home, and home is tricky. We want to stay in many regards, but we all eventually must leave to create our own. Homes are created for children to nurture them, but children have to be nudged from the nest. Homes and their comforts are symbolic of the relationship that we share with our parents and own separation and individuation from them.

 

Today's house overlaps with another series that I am working on called Metallurgy, in which I am exploring modern psychology in two corresponding twelve-part series, one in miniature sculptural pieces and the other in works on paper.

In some part, The Happy Homemaker is an extraction of that project. The sense of home and comfort, of what we create for and around ourselves, and our origin stories are all a part of who we are, how we react, and who we become. It is just one complex facet of human development.

How fitting on a marking day such as my 100th house that I should delve into the project's origin story.

I am a week past the one quarter mark of this project and have a feeling of, "Oh my goodness! I will never get all of my ideas finished," which is quite the opposite reaction than I had expected I would have.

As I work on these houses, I am continuing to inform my other projects, and that is very exciting for me.

House No. 96: Sleeping Beauty's Castle

House No. 96: Sleeping Beauty's Castle

wood, wooden spindles, wooden spools, chipboard, acrylic paint
10 in. x 21 in. x 8 in.
096/365; 04/06/11

The fairy tale houses continue today with another tale constructed out of objects from domestic work.

Luckily for me, my mom has everything and is willing to part with it for art's sake.

Say, for example, I wanted to make a palace for Sleeping Beauty out of spinning spindles (of course), not only would my mother dig up a whole basket full, she would ask me if there is anything else that I would like to take on my way out. As if her house were a shop.

Then she would convince my dad that he can part with one of the blocks from his childhood set (that also occupied my sister and me — it is a beautiful set of wooden blocks) because a dog had already chewed on it anyway. And that is where I got the supplies for this castle.

And it is one of my favorite houses so far.

See the golden tower? That is where Sleeping beauty lies asleep.

I love these spindles. Working with them is like playing a xylophone. The soundtrack of my working with them, all colliding together, sounded like the Fossils from Camille Saint-Saëns's Carnival of the Animals.  It's such a happy sound.

House No. 88: Rapunzel's Tower

House No. 88: Rapunzel's Tower
thread spools, thimble, embroidery floss, acrylic paint
1.75 in. x 8 in. x 1.75 in
088/365; 03/29/11

Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair.

 

Here, I've created Rapunzel's tower and her hair out of repurposed domestic tools. Fairy tales and domesticity are typical bed fellows. Women's work, I suppose, would understandably lead to fantasy lives of princesses being rescued. The original tales seem to have additional caution against the fantasies themselves, with gory and sad endings.

The stories have limited options for women, and the female characters who attempt to break the mold are often punished for attempting to break from their molds. It's interesting that I hold these stories dear as sweet iconography while simultaneously being discomforted by the details and abhorring the lessons they teach to girls about female roles. (Though to be fair, a lot of that emotion is directed at the modern take on the stories (read: Disney) and their unrelenting and ubiquitous licensing and marketing.)

Rapunzel is a tale that features acquiescence to kidnapping, solitary confinement in a rather phallic tower (with no apparent place to bathe or relieve oneself, something that troubled me as a child), and a utilitarian fashion choice that would require a neck brace. Add to that the whole sexualization/power of hair angle (RE: Samson* and Delilah, &c.) and you have a Women's Studies dissertation in a story book.

*Interestingly, both Samson and Rapunzel's prince have their eyes gouged out after the hair cutting in their respective stories. Like I said, there is some serious essay possibilities in this story alone.

House No. 85: Nut House

House No. 85: Nut House
walnut shell, polymer clay, glue, paper, ink, acrylic paint
1.5 in. x 2 in. x 1.5 in.
085/365; 03/26/11

Welcome to the nut house. 

The werepanda was my photographer for this house. He said the bee in the last photo was necessary to show scale.

I think that the fact that the house is a walnut is pretty indicative, but the werepanda argues that the walnut could be freakishly huge. Well, the bee could be africanized and also freakishly huge, but it's not. It's a deceased honey bee from our hive, and it's a pretty standard three-stripe Italian hybrid.

House No. 72: Outside the Home

House No. 72: Outside the Home
black and white ink or finely corrugated cardboard

10 in. x 10 in.
072/365; 03/13/11

A few years ago, when a new couple moved into the neighborhood and a few of us were stopping by individually to welcome them into the area, a couple of friends of mine and I were asked by the new lady of the house if we worked outside the home.

This question lead to peals of laughter amongst those of us who were asked, a catch phrase for our lexicon, and an attempt at hosting for the woman a welcoming dinner dressed in 1960's attire. A dinner to which she never showed up, I might add. Perhaps she was not one to venture outside the home. We enjoyed our nut-encrusted cheese ball in our pearls, sweater sets, and aprons without her. The couple moved to NoVa.

Anyway, the term, while amusing and archaic, is one that I appreciate because it acknowledges that there is plenty of work to be done within the home and that keeping a home has value.

It was this term that inspired my house today, which I masked off before working the drawing outside of the form of the house. And now I must go work within the home before the weekend catches up with me. I have some scrubbing to do and a catbox that needs zen gardening.

Today's post makes me think of this:

Eurythmics - Sisters Are Doin' It For Themselves (Official Music Video). 

House No. 41: Kerala Houseboat

 

House No. 41: Kerala Houseboat

ink, colored pencil, and watercolor on paper, digital layout
8.5 in. x 11 in.
041/365; 02/10/11

In Kerala, India, waterways are a major source of transportation, and the backwaters of Kerala may be cruised by houseboat.

The boats are made with coir and bamboo and held together by knots. Some of the boats are up to one hundred year old.

Many of the boats are very decorative and the coir is elaborately woven and appears delicate, looking almost like lace. What a romantic way to travel.

House No. 37: Earth Berm

House No. 37: Earth Berm
ink, colored pencil, and watercolor on paper, digital layout
8.5 in. x 11 in.
037/365; 02/06/11

"In a hole in the ground there lived a Hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a Hobbit-hole, and that means comfort."
J.R.R. Tolkien, The Hobbit, "An Unexpected Party"

While its most recognizable form is probably the hobbit holes of Tolkien's Middle Earth, earth dwellings, called berms (meaning a mound or wall of earth or sand), have been used around the world for millennia. Earth dwellings are now associated with the green building movement.

Sometimes the earth is "bermed" about an existing dwelling, and sometimes they are dug out of an existing slope or dug and the earth is rebuilt over a structure. They are warm in the winter and cool in the summer, are stable and fireproof, and are largely organic and/or upcycled. If we ever go off the grid — which is not likely, but I fantasize about it sometimes — I want to live in an earth berm. My husband, however, says that it seems rather dirty and that he is not a groundhog.

House No. 32: Barraca

House No. 32: Barraca
ink, colored pencil, and watercolor on paper, digital layout
8.5 in. x 11 in.
032/365; 02/01/11

Barracas, Spanish for barracks, are traditional, thick-walled houses of Valencia, Spain made of sticks and clay. They frequently have crosses at the apex of the gables and centered religious iconography above the front door. The structures are frequently, though not always, gable-front houses, meaning the principle facade of the house is on the gabled end.

House No. 23: Shanty

House No. 23: Shanty

Repurposed scrap wood & wood glue

3 in. x 3.5 in. x 2 in.

023/365; 01/23/11

Today's house is the antithesis of yesterday's McMansion. Plus, it doesn't smell of fried food.

This was a collaborative piece. I designed, measured, and glued it together, but my husband worked the power tools. That's what she said.

It's rough and tumble, this little shanty, but I think it's sweet. The wood has so much character on its own.

House No. 13: Communal Home

House No. 13: Communal Home
super delicious Ethiopian food on injera bread
approx. 12 in. x 12 in.
013/365; 01/13/11

Tonight's tasty house was made with help from my sister and the fantastic people at The Nile Ethiopian Restaurant of Richmond. The Nile is one of my favorite restaurants, so much so that it was the destination location for both my friend Angie and me for our birthdays this past year. Tonight's platter included Yemisir Wat, Shiro Wat, Ater Kik Alicha, Gomen, Atkilt, Fasolia, Dinich Wat, Bedelgan, Inguday, and Timatim Selata. The roof is a piece of injera bread.

Ethiopian food is eaten communally from a platter lined with injera bread, which sops up all the deliciousness if you can make it that far. (This food is super filling.) One eats by tearing pieces of injera and scooping from the platter. It makes for a lovely connection with your food and your dining companions. Here is a photo of dinner before we dug in.

Beautiful, isn't it? I didn't take an "after" photo, but I assure you, there was not much left. * urp *

House No. 8: Dorze Home

House No. 8: Dorze Home
pencil & ink on repurposed 100% cotton rag cover stock

5.25 in. x 3.75 in.

008/365; 01/08/11

My house today is a drawing of a traditional house of the Dorze of the southern region of Ethiopia. Dorze houses are constructed with vertical bamboo poles and woven bamboo. The thatch is made of ensete plant, grass, and bamboo stem covering. 

The houses are very tall, some are up to forty feet high, and re-locatable. When chewed at the bottom by termites, the house is trimmed from the bottom and moved. The older the house, therefore, the shorter it is, and they can last from sixty to eighty years. 

The house is subdivided and contains a hearth, sleeping quarters and a place for livestock. I think that these houses are ingenious and fascinating. They are the original green, sustainable houses.

House No. 6: Tree House

House No. 6: Tree House

ink on repurposed 100% cotton rag cover stock

5 in. x 5 in.

006/365; 01/06/11

Trees are living homes to birds, squirrels, and insects, and, even dead, trees are an important part of an ecosystem. Dead trees provide homes and food sources for animals and birds, particularly woodpeckers and flickers.

After reading My Side of the Mountain, I had a childhood dream of living inside a giant, hollow tree. (Then after re-reading this novel as an adult, I was dismayed by how environmentally irresponsible the book is. The fifties were a different time. A time when it was okay to steal Peregrine Falcon chicks and raise them yourself, but I digress.)

I drew today's home using a tiny stencil to create the tree's leaves. I cut the stencil out of an index card using an XACTO knife.

House No. 2: Home is the thing with feathers

House No. 2: Home is the thing with feathers

feathers on repurposed chip board

4 in. x 6 in. x 4 in.

002/365; 01/02/11

Today's home is inspired by birds (making it a birdhouse?) and titled after Emily Dickinson's poem "Hope" is the Thing with Feathers. 

While working on this piece today, it kept reminding me of Meret Oppenheim's Object of 1936.

 Now, while I'm a fan of that particular piece, my true Oppenheim love is Glove (for Parkett no. 4) of 1985.

Perhaps Glove will be an inspiration for another day ... hmmm ...