I've been away for a few days visiting friends and family for the holidays. I got to say hello to some babies for the first time, and sadly said good by to others for the last. The holidays bring out emotions for every family. Birth and death are the things that keep the pettiness in check.
I will give a little more documentation of the process later, but in the spirit of the holidays one of the gifts we gave this holiday was a Creché set to Michael's sister. It was made of mahogany blocks with simple hardware fixtures. In this picture is the ox and the ass. We were both really please with the way it turned out and happy with the way we each contributed bringing it together. I think she really appreciated the craftsmanship, and really loved the gift.
So on this 6th day of Christmas I realizing what my true love really gave to me was one hell of an awesome collaborator. A gift that luckily gives all year.
I've got lots to write about now that all the gifts are out from under wraps so to speak. Plus tons of new arduino projects ont he way, santa was good. And have I mentioned maker space Saturday yet?
One of the skills I'm working on in December is soldering. After a failed attempt at making a Minty boost, I opted for the far more beginner style project in the Times Square watch.
The watch come as a kit from Adafruit. The kit includes:
The components are solder through on the PCB. As usual the tutorials Adafruit provide on-line are a perfect step by step instruction for assembly. I inventoried the pieces got set-up with a third hand, and went to work. With the magnifying visor I recently acquired, what once was a dreaded job, actually became kinda fun. I could see what I was doing, I could sandwich the lead and the iron, and the gently melt a perfect hershey kiss of solder into the hole.
It almost seemed too easy.
The last step of assembling the watch is attaching the 8x8 led matrix. Aka the lights you see on the front. It comes as a square cube like object with 16 pins on the back that get soldered to the PCB... almost too easy. I had been following instructions, soldering in each component in turn just as I was told. To that point the components had all been arranged on one side of the PCB and soldered in on the other. When I got to this last step I sort of, well, didn't finish reading the instructions. It was obvious which way it went on. So I put it on and soldered in all 16 pins, quite tidily too I might add.
Then I started looking at my finished product. I realized, unlike the rest of the components, this one was supposed to have had its pins pressed through from the opposite side, and THEN get soldered to the board. All 16 solder points I had just made, while pretty, were wrong. I did not panick, I did not curse, I didn't really even stop.
I decided if this was going to teach me to solder than it may as well teach me to desolder too. At this point I had no expectation of saving this project and I was simply learning a skill. My "goal" was to remove the solder from the 16 points, flip the led matrix to the right side of the board, and solder it back in correctly.
Most of desoldering is using copper mesh (think paper towel) to drink up the lower melting point solder (think spilled glass of water) that's on the PCB (think time counter top with holes drilled into it for water to seep into). After poking at it for more than an hour, I was able to melt, sop-up, and free all 16 pins, still in tact!
I flipped it over, got the pins reinserted correctly, re-soldered it, put the battery in, and wham, hello world.
Two things I think made the desoldering job tolerable:
1) Magnification: the geeky head-set is not just for show. It's like being able to visit that tiny little city on the PCB. Do yourself a favor don't be afraid to magnify.
2) Enough heat: I had the iron set just a little over 410C for the non-lead solder I was using. Having that much heat and fine control was invaluable. Do not scrimp on a cheaper soldering iron. It pays for itself in frustration.
The most important thing I learned? There's no shame in desoldering. In fact it's a skill all unto itself. Plus, it can be done successfully.
One last thing, with all this new found proficiency; after working on it for another 30 or 40 minutes yesterday, I still haven't got that pesky piece of solder out of the minty PCB. I think I may give that first attempt up as a lost cause.
On Sunday I attended a three hour seminar on making solar engines. I was doing it to take as full advantage of my month of 3rd Ward pro membership, and to learn a little bit more about basic electronics. I have been coming at the circuit end of this from Arduino. The thing I liked most about this class was it was even more basic. We were making a small pager buzzer wiggle just with photons and circuitry, no software needed!
The guy who taught the class was really great. He had good metaphors and basically was able to help everyone through building their engine while explaining why each component was necessary for the set-up. The circuit diagram we followed was projected, and I didn't get a copy of it. Surprisingly, there was no url on the parts list. Most maker-y type industries plaster their warz with other way to contact/find community. The instructor said he would send some follow-up info to us, here's hoping more comes later.
I built the engine on a small breadboard, soldering a couple of the more tricky parts. When assembled I held it under a bright light, nothing. I put it back on the table and jiggled all the wires and then held it back up under the light, and it worked. It worked the rest of the time I was there. Switched out the capacitor a couple of times to feel the difference in torque and duration. All really neat-o stuff, I felt I was drinking from the fire hose of knowledge.
At the end of class I unplugged the solar panel and the small motor and brought the breadboard home pretty much assembled. I unpacked it on my workbench, plugged it back together, shined a light on it... and nothing. Jiggled all the wires, still nothing. Repeated this loop several times, then had to set it aside.
Here's the thing. With the circuits and the software I'm getting pretty good at knowing why theoretically they work. I'm getting ok at installing and running basic Arduino programs. I can follow a schematic and can tell difference between transistors. If I follow the instructions I can get stuff to work. But when it breaks I basically have two methods 1) restart everything or 2) jiggle all the wires in the order it says and try again. It's time to start working on my diagnostic skills. That of course means, more tools. If anyone is still looking for that perfect holiday gift, I may be in the market for a multimeter.
Kip came over on Saturday to show me the analog to digital solution he had come up with me for the willow ball art piece I've been working on since the big storm. The willow branches came with Sandy, I practically had pneumonia (bad bronchitis) so instead of getting out to help with relief, I sat at home and wove willow.
After the ball dried for a few weeks I covered it in a skin of one ply natural paper towels misted with a solution of elmers glue and water, ghetto paper maché I've been calling it. From the start it was designed to a be a light thing of some sort. I like the shadow play of the branches on the paper skin.
The hole that is in the bottom of the ball is an interesting side note, if you put this lamp shade on your head it's more like a resonating chamber. In fact it's sort like being in a private echoey place in nature, perfect for chanting or singing to yourself...but I digress.
It's lit from the inside by a strip of 24 controllable rgb led's. What Kip had been helping me with was getting normal analog pots to control each of the three color channels-- one each for red, green, and blue. It worked.
There are two final steps. First we have to add in one more potentiometer for rhythm. Then we create two identical versions of this system to complete the willow piece.
In the end, someone walking up to the piece can control the color of its heartbeat (ranging from 40-150 bpm) and the color of its breathing (ranging from 1-7 seconds). All of this analog twiddling controlling digital functions to make storm detritus appear to be alive.
In addition to Kip being here, my neighbor Tracy also stopped by. She teaches computer science in a NY middle school and has opened a maker space during lunch with a grant she received. It was great to introduce the two of them. Each of them has promised me post for the blog, so I'm not going to put too many words in their mouths... yet.
Yesterday was the first time I used the metal shop at 3rd Ward for more
than practice. There is a small alcove in the studio on the third floor of our house that we've wantwd to “fill-in” as it were with seating and storage. The alcove is seven feet (around two meters). We wanted to span that entire space
so that a rolled up carpet and futon could be easily slid under and put away.
Michael’s design called for three U shape spans 7’ wide x 18”
high. I used metal band saw to cut 45 miters and then pieced it together weld by
weld. Some of the earlier welds were not exactly what I would call “text book
perfect”, but once ground completely serviceable for my needs.
Yesterday both of the guys that I’m taking class with were
there working on their own projects. It was funny to observe how both of them
offered advice. It reminded me of
something. In the early 90’s I was a working performance artist that collected
odd jobs to make ends meet. One year I was hired by Macy’s to work in the
costume shop for the Thanksgiving Day parade. Think about it, each of those
balloon handlers has to have a costume, which is a lot costumes.
I worked with a woman who at the time was probably in her
mid fifties. The most competent seamstress I’ve ever known. I once drove an industrial
machine over my thumb piercing the meat and breaking the needle in one stroke.
Upon hearing the noise she cried out, “broke the bone!” but in her consummate
professional way finished the seam she was working on before looking up to
offer motherly assistance.
She always had an interesting way of offering advice. First
she would ask what I was working on, then how/if I had done it before, and then
how she had done like things. In the metal shop the guys want to offer technical
advice without ever asking what it is you’re making. I find the lady’s Socratic
approach far more effective.
I'm realizing the new skills I set for myself to learn in December all have one thing in common-- something to do with melting metal of some sort. MIG and TIG welding, plus soldering. I recently posted about the differences between MIG and TIG, today was my first attempt at through hole circuit board soldering.
I got the minty boost charger kit from Adafruit. It's supposed to charge an iPhone almost completely. Plus it's got a good bit of cool factor. I got set-up with all of the requisite parts and was off to the races. Following the detailed instructions provided on-line, I was quickly making decent Hershey Kiss solders on the back of the board.
Then it happened. A loose piece of molten solder rolled and settled into a connection hole needed for another component. It was perfectly soldered in. This began the a several hour process of trying to unsuccessfully remove the solder. I never got it out. Eventually I simply had to set it aside and focus on something else.
I guess the main thing I've been learning the past few weeks is patience. Don't know how the shop works, come back later. Can't get the solder out of the hole? Do some more cleaning research and try again. Can't get the exact miter angles on the hyper-paraboloid frame? Keep trimming and try and understand the geometry better.
That's the thing about making stuff. You can't yell at it to get its act together, motivational charm works-out about as well. Skilled craftsmanship comes with practice, no matter how much I want to skip over this part and get to more interesting projects, you can't fake the basics. Slice me another piece of humble apprentice pie, and I'll get back at it.
I had my first TIG welding class last night. Compared to the
first bit of MIG welding I did on Wednesday, I found it a lot easier. Granted I
was only welding steel, but I didn’t find it nearly as complicated as the one-man-band
exercise it’s often touted to be.
TIG requires that you manipulate three or four things at the
same time, the tungsten electrode and gas, the filler rod, and a pedal that
controls amount of arc and shielding gas. It’s a very refined and slow process.
Compared to TIG, MIG feels like an arc and metal spewing squirt gun. Kinda like
snowboarding, you can’t really get the technique until you get accustomed to
the speed
When we move to other non-ferric metals like aluminum I’m
sure I won’t be crowing so hard about how it easy it is, but right now I’m
preferring the TIG.
I met Kirsten at Burning Man in 2011. She's been in my life practically evey day since. Here's to swapping, both then and yet to come!
When I was four, my station wagon driving mom somehow got
involved in a cookie swap. She came home one day and filled the freezer with
dozens of cookies: shortbread, rum balls, chocolatey things… It was miraculous.
That 1970s cookie swap may have been my first, mild exposure to diversity:
different cookies, made in a variety of households, all blended together.
Fast forward 12 years. At 16, I took a part time job making
pies. An immense amount of patience went into my training: patience that taught
me to work quietly and meticulously alone for hours with sugar, eggs and flour.
I worked in bakeries and kitchens for a dozen years. I
folded, baked and whipped all manner of things. It put me through college, and
sustained me during the years in between. I was supposed to go to cooking
school and become a chef. It was all I cared about.
And then I got into journalism school and never looked back. (Well, ok. Sometimes I looked back.)
All this to say: I don’t bake much anymore. But I take
baking very seriously. When the second annual Hags and Fags Cookie Swap came
up, it gave me an anxiety-inducing thrill. Baking! And lots of different kinds
of cookies. And intriguing people. Heaven.
You see, the cookie swap ladies and gents are about as far
away from your gossiping Betty-Drapers-who-lunch as you can get. None of us
actually has any time to sit around and bake cookies. But we did it.
We gathered at the Dépanneur le
Pick Up ,
a repurposed corner store for punk gourmands near Montreal’s Little Italy. I
let my six-year-old stay up past her bedtime. She leaned on the lunch counter
and drank something fizzy while we drank something hard.
One at a time, we unwrapped our cookies and comically
explained what they are and how they came to be. We sampled and swapped:
grandmother’s shortbread, truffles, chocolate pretzels… and the notorious crack
bars.
And
then we went home and filled our freezers. It was, indeed, miraculous.
Decorating for the holidays is always problematic for me. I
like the festivity of it all, but I don’t always subscribe to the iconography.
Most years that means lots of nature, green pine, red berries, candles, etc.
Normally we don’t have a tree as it seems like a lot of
commitment for a small Brooklyn space. This year though, I think we may do it.
Several years back we were given this punch out book of paper monsters. Fifty
in all, it’s been sitting on the shelf collecting dust.
Michael and I have decided to make all fifty as this year’s tree
décor-- five down, forty-five to go.