Decoupaged Cigar Box

Decoupaged Cigar Box

The process



In the 70s and 80s I used to do decoupage for fun.

At that time, it was a time-consuming craft, requiring patience. The process of traditional decoupage was something like this:

• 1. Cut a design (original art or someone else's).

• 2. Paste it onto a new surface (which you might first paint or otherwise refinish).

• 3. Protect it with several coats of varnish or other protector.

• 4. Sand down the decoration after each 5 coats.

• 5. After about 15 coats of varnish, apply one last coat of protector.

The idea was to make the decoration appear to be flush with the surface.

Now I think most decoupeurs use one coat of Mod Podge and skip the sanding steps.




The Modigliani  Box






Here is what I did to convert my grandfather's cigar box into a keepsake box which I gave to M for his birthday.

• First, I removed a couple of things from the interior which I'm guessing may have kept the cigars humid. The cedar wood was beautiful so I didn't want to paint it.

• Then I pasted a removable plate of Modigliani's "The Cello Player" (from a paperback about Modigliani) onto the top of the cigar box. 

•  The design goes over the box opening. I used a knife to slit the design at the place where the box opened. I wanted a smooth, unobtrusive opening.

• When you open the box, there's a surprise on the interior of the lid! I pasted a page of sheet music from a Mozart Sonatina. (M's favourite composer is Mozart.) I gave it to him for his birthday in 1977. I call it the Mozart Box; he calls it the Modigliani Box. When I moved into the house with him when we became engaged, he returned the box to me because he says it's a family heirloom. So we now share it!

• The interior is lined with blue velvet.

They Say It's Your Birthday...

HAPPY

BIRTHDAY,

ECHO!

At the equivalent of 98 human years, Echo is starting to slow down. He walks a little more stiffly, taking time to pause and sniff at any interesting bush or lamp post.

He doesn't much like his new medication, and lets me know that I'm not fooling him when I try to hide the crushed pill in his canned-food meatballs. He dissects the meatball as if he were excavating an archaeological site. Then he either eats it reluctantly or walks away in disgust.

When he does take the pain pill, he can walk more smoothly and handle the steps to the terrace.

When he refuses it, I have to lift him over the steps. It's excellent exercise for me. Who needs barbells when you've got a 25-pound weight to lift?

Sometimes he looks at the steps, tentatively places one paw on the top one, and thinks about whether he wants to come in.

Other times--when he's taken the pill--he bounds down the steps as if it's no big deal.


But age is just a number when you're feeling good. And there are still many good days.

I cherish every day I get to spend with you, Echo, my furry, faithful friend! I love you.

Sailboats and Sea Breezes

Sailboats and sea breezes--
Not fire drills and snow freezes




On the two freezing mornings before our vacation we put on boots and scarves and carried our 25-pound dog down six flights of stairs, due to false fire alarms set off in a neighbouring building that shares a fire alarm with us. Echo has arthritis and can't do stairs. We do, too; but our arthritis isn't as bad as his. Still, our knees were not happy.

Oh, joy.

You can understand why we were especially happy about escaping all that going to San Diego in mid-February.

Seaport Village - Coronado Bridge

Two crows outside Upstart Crow!

 Marina at Seaport Village

Marina

My writing patio

Pacific Ocean at Point Cabrillo

  Aeronautic and Space Museum, Balboa Park

 Robinson R44 - Aeronautic and Space Museum, Balboa Park

Coronado Bridge, from Seaport Village

 the most spectacular sunset ever