Δαφνη Ευτυχια Αρθουρος

"I've always said that the world would be a better place if the people who want to wallpaper it with the Ten Commandments would just follow them." -- neadods, 2007-08-23

[Happy new year to anyone on the Celtic calendar -- Blessed Sahmain!]

"I've always said that the world would be a better place if the people who want to wallpaper it with the Ten Commandments would just follow them." -- neadods, 2007-08-23

[Happy new year to anyone on the Celtic calendar -- Blessed Sahmain!]

I decided to a) actually get around to carving a Jack-O-Lantern this year, and to b) go small with it. I had a couple of those tiny pumpkins that get used in centerpieces (in fact, that's where these came from) and are usually not decorated or are possibly painted. I figured that since the Jack-O-Lantern tradition started with carved turnips (Pumpkins are not native to Europe), carving such a tiny lantern wasn't really all that odd -- and would still be easier than doing it properly with a turnip since even the itty bitty pumpkins already have that oh so convenient hollow center. (I've never carved a turnip Jack-O-Lantern, but I have hollowed out both turnips and potatoes to stuff other things inside when cooking them. So I've got a reasonable idea of what would be involved, I think. I plan to make a turnip Jack-O-Lantern someday, but due to growing up here pumpkins are what I think of first anyhow.)

After I made sure the lights were on at the front of the house and the candy was ready, I grabbed a knife and a grapefruit spoon and got started. Being such a tint project, I finished right around the time I began. Yay. Then the problem was how to light it.

I'd already decided to make the opening in the bottom and use something other than a candle. After trying a couple of items close to hand, I settled on a pocket white-LED lamp that I keep in my music bag to use as an emergency music-stand light. The flashlight being rectangular, I used aluminium foil to cover the portion that extended past the base of the pumpkin. I was pleased with the result -- it ain't gonna win any contests nor impress anyone, but it did present a more or less traditional American-style Jack-O-Lantern image, glow nicely, count as having performed that tradition, and take almost no time and few spoons to accomplish.

A brighter light (and a colour other than white) would have been better. A couple of miniature Christmas lights directly inside the pumpkin would have provided brighter and yellower light, or perhaps a cluster of jumbo red LEDs for a more fierce look. But those would have taken a smidgen of advance planning, to wire 'em up with a long enough leash to stow the battery pack somewhere unobtrusive (and in the case of LEDs, a shopping trip), so maybe next year ... if I do bother to carve a Jack-O-Lantern next year and don't do a full-size one.

Of course, having done the miniature version, I could not help contemplating the micro version: many people have observed that habernero peppers resemble tensy pumpkins -- I could carve a face into one with an X-Acto knife and light it with a single LED or a couple of those model-railroad incandescent bulbs, and it would be cute. But I'd have to have people over to show it to, for it'd never be noticed from the street. (OTOH, it'd be pocket-sized so if I had a party to go to that night I could bring it along.)

My digicam didn't really like what I was asking it to do when I tried to photograph my handiwork ... I'll try shooting it again tonight (and maybe I can pump more light inside this time).

I propped up my wee Jack-O-Lantern against the glass of the front door, but even though I heard children's voices several times during the evening, no trick-or-treaters ever rang my bell to ask for candy. Ah well. (In past years I've watched groups detour around my block, apparently deciding it wasn't worth the walk when the cross-streets have more people living on them. A few more houses are occupied than a couple years ago, but it's still a lot of ground to cover for relatively few houses to go to, I suppose. But you know that if I hadn't been prepared, some kids would have come to my house.)

Lacking transportation, I didn't get out to rehearsal, nor did I wander out to mingle and people-watch in Fells Point, so it was a relatively un-celebrated holiday evening for me ... so I suppose this year being the time I finally got around to carving a (tiny) pumpkin, however minimslly it counted, was a good thing: it meant I'd done at least one suitable thing to mark the day. I did manage to get some stuff done while waiting for Godot the missing trick-or-treaters. It seemed a ... peaceful evening for the most part. Some years, "not doing anything" for Hallowe'en would've upset me quite a bit and made me feel anxious and frustrated. This year my response was, "ah well; I would have liked to have either partied with other humans or found a quiet wooded spot to commune with nature and whatever else showed up, but no biggie, this is okay."

I see a fair number of examples of great art in pumpkin carving, truly inspiring pieces (when not daunting instead). I'd like to try some of the techniques I've seen, sometime. This year, however, I went in completely the opposite direction. As simple as can be, on too small a canvas to want to be all that intricate anyhow, the target being "cute, minimalist, and easy". I think I hit my target. I also think that if I'd started with a larger pumpkin, I might have felt silly keeping the design minimalist, and been inclined to change the plan mid-project out of a feeling that I was "supposed to" do something more impressive. The biggest (nearly the only) design decision I had to make this way was, "how far apart should I put the eyes?"

I decided to a) actually get around to carving a Jack-O-Lantern this year, and to b) go small with it. I had a couple of those tiny pumpkins that get used in centerpieces (in fact, that's where these came from) and are usually not decorated or are possibly painted. I figured that since the Jack-O-Lantern tradition started with carved turnips (Pumpkins are not native to Europe), carving such a tiny lantern wasn't really all that odd -- and would still be easier than doing it properly with a turnip since even the itty bitty pumpkins already have that oh so convenient hollow center. (I've never carved a turnip Jack-O-Lantern, but I have hollowed out both turnips and potatoes to stuff other things inside when cooking them. So I've got a reasonable idea of what would be involved, I think. I plan to make a turnip Jack-O-Lantern someday, but due to growing up here pumpkins are what I think of first anyhow.)

After I made sure the lights were on at the front of the house and the candy was ready, I grabbed a knife and a grapefruit spoon and got started. Being such a tint project, I finished right around the time I began. Yay. Then the problem was how to light it.

I'd already decided to make the opening in the bottom and use something other than a candle. After trying a couple of items close to hand, I settled on a pocket white-LED lamp that I keep in my music bag to use as an emergency music-stand light. The flashlight being rectangular, I used aluminium foil to cover the portion that extended past the base of the pumpkin. I was pleased with the result -- it ain't gonna win any contests nor impress anyone, but it did present a more or less traditional American-style Jack-O-Lantern image, glow nicely, count as having performed that tradition, and take almost no time and few spoons to accomplish.

A brighter light (and a colour other than white) would have been better. A couple of miniature Christmas lights directly inside the pumpkin would have provided brighter and yellower light, or perhaps a cluster of jumbo red LEDs for a more fierce look. But those would have taken a smidgen of advance planning, to wire 'em up with a long enough leash to stow the battery pack somewhere unobtrusive (and in the case of LEDs, a shopping trip), so maybe next year ... if I do bother to carve a Jack-O-Lantern next year and don't do a full-size one.

Of course, having done the miniature version, I could not help contemplating the micro version: many people have observed that habernero peppers resemble tensy pumpkins -- I could carve a face into one with an X-Acto knife and light it with a single LED or a couple of those model-railroad incandescent bulbs, and it would be cute. But I'd have to have people over to show it to, for it'd never be noticed from the street. (OTOH, it'd be pocket-sized so if I had a party to go to that night I could bring it along.)

My digicam didn't really like what I was asking it to do when I tried to photograph my handiwork ... I'll try shooting it again tonight (and maybe I can pump more light inside this time).

I propped up my wee Jack-O-Lantern against the glass of the front door, but even though I heard children's voices several times during the evening, no trick-or-treaters ever rang my bell to ask for candy. Ah well. (In past years I've watched groups detour around my block, apparently deciding it wasn't worth the walk when the cross-streets have more people living on them. A few more houses are occupied than a couple years ago, but it's still a lot of ground to cover for relatively few houses to go to, I suppose. But you know that if I hadn't been prepared, some kids would have come to my house.)

Lacking transportation, I didn't get out to rehearsal, nor did I wander out to mingle and people-watch in Fells Point, so it was a relatively un-celebrated holiday evening for me ... so I suppose this year being the time I finally got around to carving a (tiny) pumpkin, however minimslly it counted, was a good thing: it meant I'd done at least one suitable thing to mark the day. I did manage to get some stuff done while waiting for Godot the missing trick-or-treaters. It seemed a ... peaceful evening for the most part. Some years, "not doing anything" for Hallowe'en would've upset me quite a bit and made me feel anxious and frustrated. This year my response was, "ah well; I would have liked to have either partied with other humans or found a quiet wooded spot to commune with nature and whatever else showed up, but no biggie, this is okay."

I see a fair number of examples of great art in pumpkin carving, truly inspiring pieces (when not daunting instead). I'd like to try some of the techniques I've seen, sometime. This year, however, I went in completely the opposite direction. As simple as can be, on too small a canvas to want to be all that intricate anyhow, the target being "cute, minimalist, and easy". I think I hit my target. I also think that if I'd started with a larger pumpkin, I might have felt silly keeping the design minimalist, and been inclined to change the plan mid-project out of a feeling that I was "supposed to" do something more impressive. The biggest (nearly the only) design decision I had to make this way was, "how far apart should I put the eyes?"