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, March 18, 2012

BEAVER TALES CONTINUED



.... (... this is a follow up to a previous post. To view the entire soggy beaver saga, begin here)


Well, at long last, part of this beaver tail has come to an end, though, I also realize, that so it goes, with endings, it is also probably just the beginning!...

A few days ago, I got a call, said “I got yer beaver", so after work, I went up to retrieve ‘er.

You see, I had commissioned the services, of one Aaron Honeycutt, a skilled taxidermist, who runs his business, Fox-Fire Taxidermy, just up the road from where  I had found the Beaver, our Lady Of The Lake, about this time last year.

It is somewhat comforting for me to see this creature reach full circle, right in her own neighborhood. I could have worked with another Taxidermist in Durham, (and while I’m sure he would have done a good job also, something felt right about going with Aaron.
It was Aaron in fact who had advised me over the telephone, when I first pulled up in my bandmate, Bruce Saunders front lawn, holding a hulking rodent. (Bruce designed and maintaines Mr. Honeycutt's website.

When I went to Mr. Honeycutt's house, to pick up the pelt, I found that all was silent...

I paused for quite a long while, and took in the scene. What a neat place, a neat guy.

After a little while, I went over to his colorful green house, and gave a rap on his deep red door.
Out popped Aaron, who seemed to be in a good mood.

There had been some concern, during the drop off, if the skin would turn out all right.
Factors such as: How long had the Beaver been laying in the hot road before I found her, and how long after I found her had we frozen her.
The thawing for skinning, and refreezing.
 All of these factors, some unknowns, could come to bare on the success of the tanning.
If I was wrong about my hunch that she had JUST met her maker, when I came upon her, the tanning could fail, and my father and I would be out $175.

There was also the question of would the tail and the hind feet survive the process.
Normally says Aaron, these parts are removed for the tanning process, which mainly focuses on coming out with a nice soft pelt. So it was quite unorthodox to leave these features on a tanned skin, and in fact he had never done it (though of course he had worked with many a tail and paw in his other, normal taxidermy work.

But of course, these were, to me, the features that were most worth preserving, to share with the tactile senses of a young person who has never experienced, say an odd reptilian paddle paired with the soft fur of a dog. Or the large paws of a dog, mixed improbably with the webbed feet of a duck! All one hulking rotund rodent!

So I was glad to see that Aaron was in such a good mood, this seemed to bear well on the matters at hand!...

Well fortunately for me, my father, and said young person, under the skilled hands of Master  Taxidermist, Aaron Honeycutt, these features survived, and in flying colors!!!

It was all there. The big back paws, the little front ones, her rubbery little snout, with its whiskers, the cute little black cups of ears, and of course that tail, which was beautifully preserved.

While we were talking, Aaron decided to illuminate something of the Beaver’s anatomy, that had been puzzling me since my friend Perrin and I first inspected it that day.

And that was a very oddly shaped fingernail on its hind foot. In fact, so strange was it, that it was almost like TWO finger nails, or tiny cloven hoof even! at the a single digit…!

Very odd this neighbor creature, this native of our streams.
And I don’t think you’d guess what it was, not in your wildest dreams.

I have to admit that I sure hadn’t, thought once he told me, it was looking me right in the face… According to Mr. Honeycutt, this bifurcated claw, was cloven for the purpose of pulling burrs from the fur of this woodland animal! In essence, this create was equipped with its own comb! Now that is some innovative design!

Aaron also gave me strict instruction on the care for the pelt. As he explained, when he agreed to take on the project (he is quite backed up with work!), he was willing to take it to a certain point, but it was for me to finish the job, undertaking the laborious last stage of softening the pelt by kneading and ringing it by hand. The entire under surface of the skin had to be meticulously and thouroughly wrought within the next 48 hours, as it began to dry. Were it not properly wrung with in this window, it would dry into a stiff mat, rather than the soft pelt that it could become. So, thinking of the many hands that will handle it over the years, I have taken it with me every where I go for the past few days. Which has made for some interesting conversations!

My first step was over to Stacye Leanza’s house, to show her our trophy. Stacye, of course had been instrumental in supporting this whole process, helping to skin the Beaver, butcher, process and cook the meet, and brokering between Mr. Honeycutt and I.

So I stopped by for a visit with Stacye and Soren that evening, and we sat around and chewed the fat, and kneaded the beaver. Ahhh…good times J