Welcome

Ahoy Matey, and Welcome to REPTIRE, an intermittent ‘ship’s blog’, chronicling the slow rise in the South Easterly skies of Reptire Designs; a studio that designs and crafts always artful, and sometimes useful THINGAMABOBS from old Indian Cucachou, aka ReTired Rubber.

Down Below, Ye shall find a permanent 'flagship post' marking the Maiden Voyage of Reptire Designs.

And below that, in the ‘hull’, can be found more recent posts chronicling the daring new adventures of Reptire Designs, dashed with small bits of whimsy, spotted pickerel, local color, and lizard lore..

In fact, on the right, in pale purple, ye shall find the Captain's Log’s Table of Previous Posts, which ye can peruse by year, month, and title to ye hearts content.

If ye haven't gotchyer sea legs yet, My Pretty, Ye can take a gander at our website at www.reptiredesigns.com, to get a proper Landlubber's Introduction.

Thanks for stopping in, I do hope you enjoy your visit aboard this ship! HARHARHARHAR.......

Sincerely, Travius Von Cohnifus

Captain, Founder, Indentured Servant, Rubber Alligator Wrestlor Extraordinaire a' this here ship.

enter the treadknot

Welcome
On September 26th, 2006, I launched my tire art/design business, Reptire Designs, with a solo exhibition of my artwork in The Green Gallery at The Scrap Exchange Center for Creative Reuse, in Durham, NC. For many reasons, it was a night that I will always remember, and I am grateful to Laxmi (my girlfriend at the time) and Edie (my mother, still) for dutifully documenting while I shmoozed, so that I may now shmare a taste of the evening with anyone who was not able to attend...



On a cool but lively autumn night-before-Center Fest, a stream of friends and curious strangers trickled (like pebbles through a rain stick) through the forest of odds and ends (that roost at night in The Scrap Exchange), out into the warm light of the back savanna, a scene utterly glopped with bizarre rubbery hybrids. Tentative and curious, the visitors craned their necks, nibbled, pecked, stood back, moved in closer. From the walls, glassy mirror eyes gazed back through black unblinking eyelids, while beneath the visitor's feet, in a steamy drainage cistern, a mortal drama unfolded. Primordial forms, with no eyes at all, sat puckered on stoops. A cascade of glittering steal droplets formed a curtain, to which clung a colony of tiny tire knotlettes.

Vito D., a long-time collabator down from the Asheville area, caressed the warming air with his Strange Little Folk music. I bobbed and I flit, and at an increasing clip-someone must have opened the faucet a bit....for soon I was swooning, I just about lost it! As the evening progressed, to my delight and amazement, 'family' from Durham, Chapel Hill, Pittsboro, Hillsboro, Siler City, Asheville, and Fresno all made it! From the Cohn Clan to the Steudel Clan to the CFS Clan; from the WWC Clan to the Duke Ac Pub Clan to the SAF Clan; from the Bike Shop Clan to the Ninth St. Clan to the Scrap Clan... and every one in between, guys, they were all appearing before my stunned, blinking eyes. While I spun and I splayed, Vito now played-CHURNED- up a torrent of gritty ditties; while a staff volunteer (Brandon's a photographer, I swear) whipped up pitchers of Mango Lassies. And The 'Scrap Exchange girls' worked the door, the counter, and the floor, going "cha-CHING!", cha-CHING!","cha-CHING!".!.



By the end of the night, hundreds of friends, acquaintances and had-been-strangers had poured in, poured over the work, and partaken in, what was for me and my art, a monumental communal feast. And on top of it all, I got to place many of my preemies in hands that I love and trust, and in several instances, hands that fit them like gloves. What a privilage to be able to connect with people this way. Heading into the turbid seas of small business, I can confidently say that if I drown tomorrow, I am at least blessed today with the memory of (as Vito later put it) one authentically good Durham night.



Thanks to all of you who were there; in body and/or spirit.





Reclaimed-wood Builder and Reptire Collector Howard Staab enjoying magwi knot at the Scrap Exchange

Reclaimed-wood Builder and Reptire Collector Howard Staab enjoying magwi knot at the Scrap Exchange
I can't think of anything more rewarding for an artist than to see someone interacting with their artwork. Photo by Laxmi Haynes

Sammy and Dannette contemplate

Sammy and Dannette contemplate
Photograph by Laxmi Haynes

Cascade Colony of Knotlets

Cascade Colony of Knotlets
They would go with your jacket, would they not Claire?

Laxmi Resplendent

Laxmi Resplendent

Mavis In The Mist

Mavis In The Mist
Photograph by Laxmi Haynes

Tire Amazement

Tire Amazement
Photograph by Edie Cohn

Sunday, February 6, 2011

A 'Rubber Affair'...



OK, Here's one from the annals of the recycled tire design business.

I was recently skimming around on LinkedIn, which, by the way, I have found to be a treasure trove of creative business, when i stumbled upon the profile of a distinguished looking older gentleman, in a powder blue 3-piece suit. His title said that he works at Rubber Affair...in Italy.
My throat sort of lumped up, and as I clicked on his website, I sort of braced myself.


Those Italians, you know, if there's one thing I know about them, its that they are STALLIONS of design. Cars, espresso machines, women...If they are making furnishings or accessories out of recycled tires, you can almost be assured that their designs are going to knock your socks off, and blow me and my wee Reptire Designs out of the water. With a name like Rubber Affair, I figured at the very best, I was going to get to oggle some gorgeous Italian Super Models, decked out in some racy. righteous S and M gear.
  As I clicked on the link to their website, my heart quivered in my chest. I wondered, Is it really all going to end like this; a quick bullet through the window, and all of a sudden, you are laying face down in your spaghetti?
    Well, the link didn't work, and I wound up at a Century Link 'sorry, not there' site, suggesting a few other options..The suspense mounted!...

  Well, I was undeterred, in fact, at this point, I was determined. If I am going down, well then feed me that bullet, buddy, I want to know I saw that one of the options on the Century Link page was for a Rubber Affair video on youtube...ok, here we go.
  So I clicked it, found the right one, and sat back in my chair ready to be blown sky high, by dreadlocked Italian designers, absolutely dripping with beautiful women, in shiny black latex couture, to the driving beat of Techno Trance Dance Hall Hip Hop.
  Well, for starters, that was not the music I found to be playing on the sound track......

You're going to need some kind of speakers on your computer,  to appreciate the charming humor of this video, as the melodramatic soundtrack is 'Paramount'. For without this score, the video is, well, footage of a rubber processing factory....


Check it:

First, I have to say, that ONLY AN ITALIAN crumb rubber processor would call themselves, Rubber Affair!!!

Now, I have been told (I had forgotten; this was the other thing I Should know about Italians), that Italians are passionate about everything they do, even the most mundane things, which in general is an honorable trait... Well, I submit to you this video as evidence A.

In the end, this video is quite endearing. I mean, the mere fact of all of these metal machines, performing this work IS miraculous in itself. And clearly, the author of this video saw in the plight of these poor tires, in their being herded to the slaughter, a potent allagory, and a mortal drama!


I keep imagining the author of this video, perhaps Rubber Affair's owner himself, chasing the forklift driver around the factory in his suit, hounding the poor driver "Is it not fantasico???!!!"  "Si, si" assures the driver.

So, in the end, it is nice to know that this Rubber Affair is not a threat to my tire marriage. And its also a pleasent surprise to see tire recycling finally receive its due GLORY in the world.

Que Bella! 

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