Aha!
I decided to try to get a little pre-barbecue shell sawing in Saturday morning. I fired up the tunes, donned my ever-so-stylin’ protective gear, and started sawing. Screwed up the first piece. Screwed up the second piece. As you can see:
It was not going well already. So I took a deep breath, and tried again. But this time, out of sheer frustration, I craned my head around so I could see in front of the blade where I was cutting, instead of from the side, or from the back. And wouldn’t you know it, but I was sawing much straighter. Eureka!
I have been legally blind in my left eye since I was a year old as the result of a glass-meets-eyeball accident. I can see, but everything is in very, very soft focus, which is not useful when it comes to precision activities. And I can’t help but wonder if my handicap actually handicapped me in this case. Because once my right eye was around the corner, I found sawing much easier. Check out the results, before any cleanup with files or sandpaper, of doing it that way, especially as compared to the previous two:
So yes, my epiphany was “I’ll saw better if I see better,” which should be self-evident, but I wasn’t aware of how much I wasn’t seeing until I tried a new point of view, because I was seeing the way I always see, and don’t really think about it anymore. And I don’t think of it as a handicap anymore until it proves to be one. Which is why Scott hung one of those dangling tennis balls from the ceiling of the garage, because he feared I was going to drive right into the kitchen one of these days, as my depth perception is nonexistent. (I wasn’t going to, but it makes him feel better.)
After that, the sawing continued to go pretty well. I’d be lying if I said it was perfect, but it was a damn sight better than anything I’d sawed heretofore. A little sanding on a small flat sanding block I made to make the edges really crisp, and cleaning out of the crotch of the V with the abrasive cord, and it was looking really good. The abrasive cord is going to be really nice to have, once I figured out how to give myself a third hand to use it.
Next thing I needed to do was to glue up two more pattern pieces to shell to replace the 2 I’d wrecked to start. I’ve read about people using white glue instead of superglue to do so, and Larry Robinson mentioned it in the video last night, too, so I thought I’d give it a try. I’d read an article, too, about it last night and the author said I could get the patterns off the shell with just a little soapy water.
I will never superglue a pattern to shell again.
Although I had a little problem with the small ends coming up as I sawed, (which I can fix by using a bit more glue and letting it cure longer—it only sat half an hour), it was delightful to use, and the paper peeled right off the shell. I didn’t even need soapy water. Beautiful. White glue is cheaper, it doesn’t make my eyes hurt to use it, no more screwing around with acetone to reclaim my shell, and a lot less sanding to do if I don’t have to take the paper off, too, as I do with the superglue. I wish I’d tried it sooner.
So I sawed those, and the sawing of the 10 pieces took about an hour. I was going to be able to glue the pieces together before I left, too. That was where I’d see how good a sawing job I did. I put the pattern on the ebony I’m using as a ground, and then a piece of wax paper over that.
As I put them together, I only glued my finger to a piece twice. (Oh yes.) And I only had to file one little end of one piece to get it to fit. I think it looks pretty good. In fact, it’s probably the best sawing job I’ve done yet, in terms of both precision of the individual pieces and their fit together. No major gaps. I am proud.
Here it is with the pattern removed, and against the ebony. I think I will actually be able to use my Exacto knife to scribe this one, because it’s all straight lines.
While I was cleaning up, I decided to take that spare piece of wood that is already cut to sanding block size and make a second one. No inlay on this one, though.
As I was walking into the house, the glare from Scott’s windshield caught me in silhouette. That hairdo required entry into the historical record.
I cleaned up the excess glue from the edges of the shell after I removed the design from the wax paper Saturday night. It’s all set for scribing. I have a good feeling about this one.
