Recycled Art Pieces, Step By Step

Reduce * Reuse * Recyle * Rethink * Remake into Art

Without much of a plan, I began cutting random, free-hand shapes from the junk plywood, which was leftover from the demolition of an old cabinet at Lowell Observatory.

Here I am at the bandsaw, cranking out parts.

Most of the structure of my two recycled art pieces are comprised of the larger of the plywood parts. Kind of like the bones of a skeleton, these first pieces hold everything together.

Not knowing exactly what would happen with these shapes, I relied on intuition, my mood and some good "space music" in the background to guide me.

There was a good pile of aluminum scrap that was ready for a trip to the junkyard (aka the recycling center). Instead, I intercepted a few, thin pieces to add add some flair and sparkle to the mix. The metal was leftover from making a mirror cover for one of the large telescopes at the observatory.

Again, I took to the bandsaw, which is set up to cut this metal with the same blade as I used for the plywood. As with the plywood parts, I relied on "stream-of-consciousness" cutting to create these organic shapes.

These shapes are the results of a good cutting session, laid out so I could see how they'd interact with one another. Arranging and rearranging, I "fit" these pieces into the form of a spontaneous puzzle. Even I was surprised at the result.

Once I decided on how the skeletal pieces fit together and how they would work well with the aluminum parts, I assembled them with screws.

This shows the final assembly of all the parts of one of the two pieces. It also shows the blue masking tape covering the aluminum forms.

I masked the aluminum, because I wanted to work quickly during the painting process. I like to paint fast on some occasions, because I find I can be more expressive without overthinking things. And this is often a messy process.

The aluminum, in this case, needed to be kept pristine. I wanted the shiny metal to contrast with the satin finish of the house paint.

In order to meet the challenge of 80% recycled materials, I decided it was important that the paint be saved from the landfill as well. So I sent out an email to my friends in the community, asking if they'd donate any unused, unwanted paint that might be hanging out in their garages.

But nobody gave me the right colors. Phooey! To remedy this problem, one of the local paint stores was gracious enough to sell me pigments, the same that are used to tint their own custom colors, so I could modify the housepaint to my satisfaction.

This picture shows my collection of housepaint pigments, used just for this purpose.

This step was really fun and expressive. I spent hours mixing up colors and applying them to my assembled puzzle, trying to complement the shapes and add some motion to the composition. This is the perfect activity to do in the middle of the night, when no one is watching.

So why the silly title?

Since the entire process of making this art piece involved chance and randomness, I thought it was appropriate to choose a title in the same manner.

Passing by a couple, I heard one of them say to the other, "We don't need a love seat," and I thought to myself, yeah, we can sit together or apart. It just came to mind. I wrote these words down in my notebook, and, when I was choosing a title for this piece, the phrase was fresh in my mind.

I was in quiet contemplation, thinking, studying the piece. What is this object before me? What does it remind me of?

Okay, so this is a totally random title, too. I can't even explain it.

So don't ask me again.

I just have to share: Both of these pieces sold. Cool! I sell art mostly to fund the making of more art (and for the pleasure of knowing someone else is enjoying what I create), and these sales just saved me from having to ask my wife for an allowance.