A mad month

When I said 'we're done' I didn't mean for a whole month. But then life tripped me up.

First there was the weekend I was an unorganiser at UnConference Canberra.

Then I started working on the May issue of The tiny Times which, as usual, sucked up my spare time.

 Then, before I finished it,  life got completely crazy. I came home one night almost three weeks ago to discover that Mr Nibbs had died (not completely unexpectedly: he'd not been himself since Christmas).

And when I rang to let Mum know, she told me that Dad was in hospital. So I made an unexpected trip to New Zealand to help them out.

While I was there I did manage to do some mini-related things with a friend, including a trip to the Blue Star Kiwi stall at the Wellington Underground Markets, and a visit to The Weta Cave, where we did a behind-the-scenes tour of the sets for the new Thunderbirds TV show

(which was quite frustrating as absolutely no photos were allowed. And there was much in the way of miniatures to be drooled over: including the Tracy Island headquarters in 1/12 scale. For a wee look you can check out this sneak peek video).

We also made time to get up to some mischief of the street-art variety...

Then, two days after I got back, I was off again: to The Sydney Miniature and Dollhouse Show.

I have lots of photos to share, but they'll have to wait for another post.

I'm pleased to say there were miniature acquisitions along the way. A friend went on holiday to Japan and returned with a range of miniatures for me:

And I picked up a few things at the Blue Star Kiwi stall, including a Clarice-Cliff-like tea set 

 and some tiny cupcakes iced like sheep: the perfect souvenir.

I'm just hoping life decides to settle down this month. I need time to catch my breath.

...and we're done.

(I feel more exhausted than awesome...)

Ticking the box

Here's how I made the light box I blogged about yesterday:

While I was at work I pondered and plotted and came up with many options for how to make a working light box. A number of them very complicated indeed. Finally, after doing some research on my lunch break, I decided that the easiest way to make the letters was by printing onto clear stickers. And it so happened that Officeworks had the perfect solution for quarter of its usual price.

I popped out there after work, and while I was there picked up a couple of folders that I thought would work for the light box front and the channels for the letters (I'd originally wanted to make it with working channels made of styrene so I could change the letters but then decided that was the way madness lay and so went for an easier option.)

 Total cost? Under $10.

At home I dug through my tubs of projects that I should have finished months ago to find a brooch box that I'd painted black for a custom order (sorry Tina: you're going to have to wait a while longer...).

I knew that if I could ignore the fact that the dimensions weren't quite correct, it would transform easily into the body of a light box.

I stole the wiring from The Hideout,

 and drilled a hole in the back of the box for the bulb to go through.

After this trial, I decided that perhaps a lower-voltage system might be better, I was going to test my theory but all my AA batteries needed charging so I pressed ahead before I lost momentum.

I cut strips of the cardboard folder to act as channels for the letters: again, they could have been neater but I was going with a proof of concept and knew I could cut better versions later.

At this stage I was starting to get excited.

The final step in my experiment was to print off some letters. I cut my sticker sheets down to A5 and did a test print (during which my printer decided to start running out of ink. Just after I'd returned from Officeworks. Typical!)

The end result was good enough to prove that it was worth some further work to make it awesome.After I'd had some sleep.

The next steps? Try a lower voltage system. Cut new (straight) pieces of card for the channels. Re-print the letters and then cut them down to look more real. Glue it together. Make a scene. Then spray paint a new brooch box for Tina's commission...

Let there be light...

After being set a challenge by an Instagram follower this morning, I can home tonight and made a mock-up of a miniature working light box.

A perfectly normal way to spend a Friday night, wouldn't you say?

I took photos, which I'll share with you tomorrow. I might even finish it properly!

Not at all what I'd planned (day two)

I've not made any progress on yesterday's build. In fact, things have gone backwards (I thought I was being burgled last night: until I realised the sounds I was hearing was the Blu Tack falling off the walls, and the shelves with it:)

And since today's priorities were elsewhere, things have stayed the same. And I realise that this is how I end up with half-build scenes that never get blogged...

On a positive note, last night I finally finished three commissioned pieces from last year's sPIN exhibition at ANCA: just in time to give them to the recipient for her birthday:

And this morning I dealt with the 171 photos I took for The tiny Times at this year's ACT Miniature Enthusiasts show. I treated myself afterwards with a trip to the National Gallery of Australia to (finally) see their Black exhibition.

Which was well worth it: highlights for me were works by Jospef Albers, Josepeh Cornell, Colin McCahon and various other New Zealand artists.

And then I came home and finally tried creating some kitchen storage containers from the Tic Tac boxes I bought last June.

And pondered the fact that unlike most magazine people, I seem to be existing about a year behind, not six months ahead :-/

Not at all what I'd planned!

Today's plan miniature-wise was to finally make a scene that's been banging around in my head for far to long, using a magnet that I bought in October 2014 showing Cuba Mall in Wellington; the wire day bed I bought at Daiso almost a year later; some fabric I've had cut out ready to sew into cushions for far too long, and the afghan rug that minicrochetmad sent me last June.

Well that was the plan.

The reality is that the day bed demanded to head in a whole different direction (my miniature furniture does that sometimes...) And suddenly I had this mock up:

Which, you'll agree, is nothing like my original concept.

The scene got bigger and bigger and I finally ended up with this:

(Plus a lot more. I plan to share the full journey with you tomorrow.)

A touch of decodence

I seem to be on a bit of a masculine-themed miniature jag at the moment, with the gentleman's study on Sunday, the night club on Tuesday and now this:

(I wonder if this is the home of the owner of Lorraine's? Perhaps it's Stephen, who I thought was an antique dealer, but I could be wrong (or perhaps he's a man of many interests...))

The scene started with the first thing I bought at last weekend's Canberra show: a black and white Art Deco picture (for the pricely sum of $1). While cleaning up my work table this morning (I know!) I decided the picture would work perfectly with the metal tin I picked up in the Blue Mountains in October. And the black, gold and silver fabric that's been banging around in stash for so long that I've completely forgotten where it came from.

Which lead me to pull out the Barcelona day bed Elvira sent me back in 2014. And I was off. Added a potted palm (of course!) A walking cane, hat and parcels (thanks to Mad for Mod for the top one) for the day bed.

And, finally, a selection of suitably luxe items for the top of the sideboard: including a couple of vases from my experimenting back in October, a magnifying glass courtesy of Kitty & Kat Miniatures, a quill pen from Michelle's Miniatures, a glass bird from the Canberra Show ($3 for three plus a larger one) and a silver car charm from the Cockington Green Gardens gift shop.

And that statue in a display case? I'm most proud of that.

The display case is a coffee table from the Lundby Småland Red Living Room Set (60.2081) which I opened for a scene in December last year. And the statue was originally a bright shiny plastic game piece from a Monopoly set I picked up in an op shop. A quick blast with copper and black spray paint and it's almost unrecognisable.

I'm well pleased and have the urge to spend the rest of the day watching Poirot episodes...

A light for Lorraine's

The first thing I bought at last weekend's ACTME show was from Wendy Benson's 'bits and bobs' box. I have no idea what it was originally (possibly some sort of bottle lid?) but it screamed '1970s nightclub chandelier' to me (and started this song playing in my head).

And for 50 cents, I really couldn't go wrong, could I?

After I got home from work tonight I took a deep breath, remembered what Lorraine from Fairy Meadow Miniatures taught me when she visited, and set my drill to work. And ended up with this:

which I built a scene around, deciding to call it 'Lorraine's Night Club' in her honour.

It makes me want to return to my 1980s clubbing days...

I may have found my mini mojo at the Canberra show

The 2016 ACT Miniature Enthusiasts Show was on yesterday and, as usual, I had a stall there (and was taking photos for the May issue of The tiny Times).

Once again, my main shopping was done on Wendy Benson's stall. I picked up everything in this picture for $26:

These matchboxes full of vintage wood blocks were $2 each (I've had some of these pieces before but never knew where they were from).

And the MIP Pyrex dolls' house ovenware set still had it's original price tag from David Jones on the back of it.

I did buy one more thing, blowing my budget just a little:

I was inspired by a discussion on the World of Dollshouse Miniatures Facebook group recently about a photo of a full-sized room that included a cocktail cabinet in the shape of a dolls' house.

Here's my interpretation of the room:

A miniature at the museum

Yesterday afternoon I visited my old friend Canberra Museum and Gallery to attend their panel discussion: 2013-2113 – the next great 100 Canberra Houses. I made sure to arrive early as I'd heard rumour that they had a dolls' house on display.

And what a beauty it was!

 The signage says that it was made by Pennock Miller in the 1930s.

Based on the small amount of googling I've done, it seems that he lived in Ainslie and possibly made a miniature reproduction of the family home.

I was so very tempted to lift the side flap for a peek inside, but instead just took a couple of photos through the doors and windows using my flash and then contacted the gallery to if they would show me the inside...

This is the view through the front door,

the front window,

and the back door.

 In a nearby display case is a display of some of the furniture from the house, also made by Pennock Miller:

A typical 1930s lounge suite and table

 and a wardrobe and single bed with bedding.

I'll let you know if I can manage to get access to the inside, and share any more information I find out about the house...