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The Fearless Leader’s Head is Trimmed, Sewed, Glued, Clean, Together and very very Friendly! 
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Applying Fabric and Adhesive Techniques to put our fellow into play.
After establishing what The Fearless Leader’s face was going to be all about and conducting a variety of field tests with the cans I was able to determine how everything was going to come together for our young hero.
My friend Leslie joined me for an afternoon of crafting, which ended up selfishly being a little more about the puppet than anything, but nonetheless successful! Leslie through down on a bizarre little portable one-hand sewing machine. This thing breaks almost immediately after its cogs are in motion, but we were able to get what we needed from it.
We ended on sewing. Today I woke up and broke out the hot glue gun after carefully testing all theories and making it clear both to me and the leader that I wasn’t going to foul the process with any carelessness in technique. After a while with the hot glue gun I realized certain areas would be better served with contact cement. Basically – hot glue is very strong but very fast to dry, which can cause unnecessary lumping and inconsistencies. After fooling with this technique on the interior glove on the roof and bottom of the mouth I realized the interior mouth would be at far less risk with nice wet slower drying contact cement. This worked too!
Next step: Body Building!
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To begin – I think we should take a deep breath and picture a sail. The sail has the ability to bring you far out onto the open water and set you there adrift. I want you to exhale, close your eyes, and hear the sail. Is it languidly flapping, its rings tinging against the mast? Or is it loud – mightily struggling against the wind? The sound of a sail without direction is violent and restless. It is looking for a partner. Its desperation is audible. And if it can reach far enough, and extend itself into the wind you’ll find harmony in the tones of the meeting, the connection.
Open your eyes. The sail isn’t violently thrashing, its belly is full and it has direction and it’s pushing you ever further forward. Its beauty is simple – you understand what this struggle sounds like. You can identify its parameters – you’ve traversed them.
Sitting atop the ocean, you are surrounded by all things. You are surrounded by the land you’ve grown accustom to living on. You are surrounded by the sky where you look for answers, where you find fireworks in darkness. You are held up by a vast system of living things. The water is alive. Nothing here is waiting to swallow you whole unless you imagine it. If you choose to, you can focus only on the beasts below the surface, or the water turning on you. The universe inevitably will send you a storm.
Do you want to picture this? You can do it! You can picture everything at once. This can bring you peace. This can overwhelm you. It is yours.
It is warm here. It is cold.
Pain is everywhere. Loss surrounds you. You can hold these feelings. You can turn them into objects. These feelings can take the form of a neck-tie that you’ll never wear, that will simply hang in a closet, and remind you of what life was like once, and what you were like once. The wind has been known to hide in seashells. Perhaps it is born there. And only when the shell is raised to an ear on a shore does wind begin, only if we’re willing to hear it.
You are in charge of this place. You are the one that makes the decision to hold on to whatever it is you hold onto. Occasionally all you can hold onto is driftwood from a storm you didn’t fare well in and you know you’ll have to wait until you can see the island that you will be rescued by. On the best days you are the island, and you rescue yourself, or feel as if there was never a thing you needed rescuing from – the water that slaps against your coast – it can be as violent or calm as it wishes – you have no place to be, you are your refuge. And on the worst days there is a system of ropes and pullies that have been organized by teams of scientists that you chose long ago to dig you out of the dark places you knew you’d fall into. They will be there to transport you to a passing ship or land mass. And sometimes the worst days are the best days. Everyone needs rescue. Everyone needs refuge.
You can return to land whenever you wish. You can resist it. But now – right now, take a look at the sail, and breathe in the crisp air the salt water has such a distinct affect on. And listen to the unity of the imperfect discourse the wind shares with the canvas. There are hiccups. They occasionally lose each other. Their conversation stalls and starts up again. One doesn’t necessarily need the other, a flag, hanging limp, is still a flag that flies. It is a symbol of a particular statement of love. Its power is for whoever receives it.
When the wind meets the canvas magic happens, the world pushes you forward and you are at once in control of it and have no control of it. Now imagine it never ending, imagine sustaining this energy. Imagine your breathing, perfect, and your quiet blinks being received by the person you’re looking at. Imagine two people wholly understanding each other’s intentions and fears and hopes. Imagine all the magic. And begin.
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Creating a Canvas…
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I’m making a puppet. He will be used for good. As noted on his initial sketch he is tentatively named “Fearless Leader.” After assuring myself I’d heard this title given to a character before I consulted the good people at wikipedia and found that Fearless Leader indeed refers to a character from Rocky and Bullwinkle. My robot puppet will not be named Fearless Leader, but for now, the project will move forward under this name. When a proper name is given that he and I mutually agree on I assure you, it will be promptly be announced. But seeing as he is not exactly alive yet, there is time.
Little by little I’ll update facts to a character bio I’ll be creating for this fellow.
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Training in a hotel by an airport in Atlanta. Learning again more than one should know.
Bowling Alley with video games and more importantly – Laser Tag.
Laser Tag – A group of thirty people under an umbrella of work, in a position of grand team exercise is amazing. Shoot the opponent, contain them, its playing American gladiators, its Double Dare sans slime. But man did we sweat.
And then Atlanta’s finest, the only place to truly understand Atlanta, but youdonknownuthinboutthat!
The Stretch
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Team Arrives
We eat at Malones: Gumbo again, cajun grilled shrimp over small caesar salad. Shiner Bock.
It truly begins – seeing the full assembly, a brief but delightful reunion and off to bed.
Some work, some Lost, a missed call from my lady. And sleep, to JJ.
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Off Day
My co-worker Leslie introduces me to The Earl in East Atlanta. This is a smoke filled bar with a diner menu of great Atlanta cuisine. We had boiled peanuts, fried okra, tots. I ordered a salmon BLT, yum, and there was a grilled Tuna burger and a spicy yellow fin tuna melt that were close seconds to my meal.
Should’ve napped. Watched Point Break while digging through application proceedings.
I think there was no natural lights on inside which made the daylight creak through the open windows and make all faces shadow-filled and dark. We left at four, it felt like 8. But the food, coffee, and bloody mary were all delicious. Highly recommended.
Ate Dinner at an Irish pub with Corey, talked about states, girls, girls in states, the state of girls, music, xtreme sports, modeling, cigarettes, beer, water with beer, condiments. Its nice – grand companion.
Music: Charlotte Gainsburg – IRM, David Bowie – Station to Station
Sleeping.
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First Day of Activation for touring structure. Little kinks. Buy and make safety cables to hang exit signs.
Eatery: Malone’s (Atlanta Airport)
Having eaten at this bar before I decide to go back, remembering a connection with creole cuisine. Indeed, this place, a sports bar/restaurant, has a few delicious morels. They do cajun grilled shrimp, serve a delicious gumbo, and have jambalaya on the menu, always.
Eat Gumbo. Listen to Beach House. Talk about work. Sleep.
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The GPS machine routed myself and friend Corey to three Walmarts that were not there. Ghostmarts.
Miles Driven: Countless
Chris Matthews: ” Barack Obama is post-racial, I swear to god, for the last hour I forgot he was black.”
John Stewart: “And you forgot – You’re MIC’D! I swear to god, this guy’s one scotch away from being Ron Burgandy.”
Music: Picked up Beach House and Charlotte Gainsburg!
Creating a Canvas…
I’m making a puppet. He will be used for good. As noted on his initial sketch he is tentatively named “Fearless Leader.” After assuring myself I’d heard this title given to a character before I consulted the good people at wikipedia and found that Fearless Leader indeed refers to a character from Rocky and Bullwinkle. My robot puppet will not be named Fearless Leader, but for now, the project will move forward under this name. When a proper name is given that he and I mutually agree on I assure you, it will be promptly be announced. But seeing as he is not exactly alive yet, there is time.
Little by little I’ll update facts to a character bio I’ll be creating for this fellow.
Training in a hotel by an airport in Atlanta. Learning again more than one should know.
Bowling Alley with video games and more importantly – Laser Tag.
Laser Tag – A group of thirty people under an umbrella of work, in a position of grand team exercise is amazing. Shoot the opponent, contain them, its playing American gladiators, its Double Dare sans slime. But man did we sweat.
And then Atlanta’s finest, the only place to truly understand Atlanta, but youdonknownuthinboutthat!
The Stretch
