FLYWHEEL'S FLAPADOODLE

'THE FLYWHEEL'S FLAPADOODLE"

When I was 15, I traded my older bike for a 2 cycle gas engine equipped with a variable speed carburetor.  I had, also, a pair of lawn mower wheels connected by a length of pipe, nailed onto a 2 x 4 support.

I began what I had intended to be a "go cart"....but as I collected scrap materials about me, I had more lathing strips and mattress ticking than I did 2 x 4s or another pair of lawnmower wheels....thus was born my 3/4 size airplane.  I called it "Flywheel's Flapadoodle".  It was a project of the whole summer and into the late fall.  Flapadoodle got great attention from everyone I knew and many that I didn't know.  I couldn't have enjoyed it more!

I spent hours of carving, sanding and checking for balance on the propeller (I'd never even heard of a thrust bearing engine or drive to prop ratio).

Finally the big day of trial came.

In my painting, I've chosen Lotus Abboud to crank it, (but I don't really recall who did).

At slow speed, all was O.K.,  but, when I revved it, the poorly balanced prop began to shake the contraption so badly that pieces began to fall off.  The vertical tail went first.

I loved building it!

MORE LATER    Elbert  10/11/13

Renoir and Me

One of our papers carried an illustration of Renoir painting on site. When I'd started my version of it, Shirley

 photographed me doing it. There is a resemblance there, I think.

The painting, on canvas, is 16 x 20, oil. I've not done this one with me in it yet, but I may.

----------------Renoir and Me

About Drawing---

 Early people got into groups to share what they had experienced. Grunting and pointing or even waving arms was limited as a way of getting your tale, told, or an opinion across. But then, we flattened and cleared a patch of ground at our feet and picked up a short stick and stooped to draw and all gathered about. They began to nod; Yes I see! We all took turns with the stick to add our own bit to the topic... because we could all draw.
We could all draw and according to the cave drawings, we could all draw pretty well. Drawing was our first truly descriptive language.

My point is that anybody who tries to draw something, that interests them, can do it. They just need to hang in there, keep trying and don't become self-critical about their early result.

Everything that people like to do and even do quite well, they did awkwardly when they began.

I often advise beginners to pick a simple object (not an orange or a box) but a flower; a ceremic boat; a pair of shoes and so on.
Draw the subject carefully and place it face down... don't criticise it. Do this five times and try to do it as well as you can each time. Turn each drawing over without critique. Next, turn them all five over and notice the improvment in the final piece.

This won't always be true, but it usually is, if you aren't just rushing to finish all five.

Don't be impatient to finish and miss the fun in doing a sketch. You will be glad you drew.

Father's Day

Julia Price-Kent

My dad...took us on bike rides;invented games for us to play; built a treehouse; taught us to skate, ride bikes, and appreciate art; took us on day trips and sang in the car; brought us home something each day when he came home from work even if f it was just a stick of gum; invented stories about our family doing adventures; let us cuddle in bed on early weekend mornings; had discussions about serious subjects with us and listened most of the time, no subject was taboo; cooked inventively with only one major disaster; make me look up words; danced with me standing on his feet; and gave great foot rubs; and taught us how to think critically. hanks for the good times, Daddy.

Elbert's Reply

It;s easy to be a good dad, when you have four of the best kids any dad could ask for and a fabulous mother.
Even now, after all this time, when I hear somebody call out "Daddy!", I immediately look up.  If you've ever been Daddy, you never get over it.  It's the worlds top job and I loved it.  Love, Daddy

Mr. Goats, Stoney Point, Oklahoma sent to Steven Leger March 29, 2012

Dear Steven,

When I was a kid of 9 - my two sisters and me visited our divorced and re-married mother in Stoney Point, Oklahoma - (about 20 miles over the border of Arkansas from Fort Smith).
There I met Mr. Goats (a near relative by marriage).
He welcomed me in and said his bees were ready to swarm.
I'd been a beehive watcher for years and I couldn't wait...
Suddenly a keening,  humming from inside of the hive box was followed by a flood of flying and circling bees.  They were about 35 yards in diameter.
The two of us took a tin pan each and a large spoon each and began to bang on them to (he said) confuse their communication and make them settle nearby as preferred to flying away from our capture.
They did settle on a plum branch in the yard and hung like a huge bunch of grapes.
Mr. Goats got his new hive box and picked the queen from the settled swarm and put her and a double handful of hangerson bees into the hive box.
During the night, the remainder of the swarm followed them in.
He told me that he'd doctored the new box by rubbing it inside with mint leaves.
You can believe I was thoroughly hooked.
Mr Goats was also digging a 6' diameter dug well - to replace his bore hole well.  He claimed a big dug well with a field rock facing (facade) - a wooden crossmember with a large noisy pulley wheel to pull up a bucket of cold well water on a hot day was a "great comfort" for a "grass widder batchelor" in his retirement years.
Mr. Goats was my first encounter with a beekeeper; well digging philosopher and nanny goat owner but in subsiquent years I acquired all of them...; bees; goats and a copy of Lin Yutang's "Importance of Living".
I only visited him about 5 days, all told, but it was a great experience for me.
We lunched each day on 2 split biscuits each, with pan fried country ham and tomato slices and a large green onion (handheld) and a cup of "nanny goat" milk.
I hardly saw my mother that visit but I never forgot Mr. Goats and his quest for "Great Comfort" and how Bee Watching was an important part of it all.  Good luck and great comfort with your bees.  Elbert

MORE ABOUT DRAWING..

SHADOW DRAWINGS ON PAPER

I begin my drawings using a “shadow chamois”. That is a chamois that has been saturated with charcoal particles (dust) by grinding vine charcoal under my shoe, into powder and placing an already well used chamois into the dust that I've produced and scrubbing it about till it is saturated with the dust..

I can hold a blackened “shadow chamois” in my fingers and produce a very rapid image on an 18 x 26 inch sheet of white paper. When the image is pretty representative, it can be developed, later, in my studio.
.

The examples that I show are ones that I’ve treated in that way.
 Models can only pose in some positions briefly... so I must move fast. I always wanted a better tool than a snappy vine charcoal stick, when I'm trying to work fast. These “shadow chamois” do it for me. Try it!
Try it more than once, sustained effort is how you get there. Use the same movements as if you were holding a stick of vine charcoal. Literally, draw with the folded up corner of the chamois...causing a shadowy image to come forth. It's a real kick...and so much faster than plain line.

 THE SHADOW DRAWINGS..

                            

FIVE VIEWS OF THE BEAUTIFUL PERUVIAN

        

               

 If you have shadows in the right place, it easy enough to follow up with the outlines to complete the picture. All of the shadows drawings in the five drawings were completed in less than ten minutes. The outlines were added, in my studio, later.
Elbert Price  3/29/2011

SO LONG SUGARBOY

When I was still living on West LaGrange in Lake Charles, my daughter, Kathryn gave me her white tomcat.
We already liked each other, as I'd always razzeled him when I visited Kathryn.

I was ever so glad to get him as he turned out to be an excellent psychotherapist.  He had a sympathetic expression as I regaled him with my gripes about my awful management team and  customer snatching fellow brokers at our stock exchange office.  His soft "mummmm" was a consoling response--like I feel your pain and how does that make your feel?

When he got into battles with other local tomcats, I threw pebbles and dead limbs at his rivals to be of assistance.  He would come back from the battleground and rub my pants leg in gratitude.  We were steady "Good Buddies" of the evening and on weekends and holidays.

Sugarboy enjoyed eating nice, fat, crunchy, flying bugs.  His favorite collection place was the streetlight in front of our driveway.

It was a fatal fondness.  One morning I gathered him up after he' been fatally struck by a motorist.  I turned into this nine year old---weeping for my lost friend...