No. 222: The Anniversary Gift (Eddie Vedder)

This drawing of Eddie Vedder was a big challenge and a lot of fun.
It was also a helluva rush job, drawn and framed in two days for an anniversary gift "in the moment."
I did it for her because she's a long-time friend, and a repeat customer who always comes up with cool ideas.
I'll let our words tell the rest of the story.
The messages began in the middle of the night:

Eddie Vedder, October 2013. Happy anniversary Matt and Amanda!

"Hi Tom. I have a crazy idea. I just got home from a Pearl Jam concert in Boston. We were in the pit (my eardrums might be busted forever) but my husband got a sweet picture of Eddie Vedder mimicking him while taking a picture. I'd like you to recreate it if it's not too tough. Our 10-year anniversary is coming up later this month, but that may not be enough time. In which case, Christmas would work. Interested?"

"Hell yeah. Eddie is on my list of rockers to draw!"

"Oh my lord, Tom. I was at work today and someone mentioned today is the 18th. I had no idea - I was on vacation last week and it was like time stopped. I thought I had a few more weeks til my anniversary. It is Tuesday - if you don't have time for this I totally understand. I can give it to him late - honestly it's no big deal."

"Hope for a rainy weekend ... Will let you know Sunday where we are at. I'm having fun, in case you wondered. I have a pile of about 40 albums on the floor and I will play them all down here this weekend!"

"Shit you're good."

"He was very surprised and happy. And for the first time in years, I was able to show him up with the gift. We agreed we weren't doing much - the Boston trip was the anniversary gift. So I got flowers and a card and he got Eddie. He loved it. He couldn't believe you did it in two."

"I want to thank you for the portrait of Ed. It’s absolutely perfect the way you captured that shot. I couldn’t believe it when I saw it knowing that I didn’t even take that picture a week ago. She let me know that you moved some things around to make it happen. I really appreciate it and I know she does too.

It’s awesome and I have the perfect spot for it among my collection of pearl jam concert posters. Thanks again!"

No. 220: The Boys in the Box

"Little Sailors" by Tom Wills, October 2013, 1' x 2'

This is a very clever gift idea, for which I will claim only half credit.
The creative half!
A colleague came to work a week or so ago with very specific measurements, and an old photo. I was to draw these young brothers specifically to fit into a prescribed space -- the lid of a treasure box.
Now, one-by-two feet is pretty small for a portrait of two people -- even kids.

Land ho!

But I set about drawing them and even managed to include a bit of the sofa they are sitting on.
I put in a bit of the tricky fabric pattern, too.

The following week, the bigger brother showed up with a treasure box. A toy-sized steamer trunk, actually.
Inside of the lid would go the drawing; inside the box would go a host of Christmas goodies for the little brother. Although men grow, we do not completely grow up.  We like our toys, our comic book heroes, our trains and toy soldiers.

Filled to the top!

I suggested covering the drawing inside of the lid with a sheet of clear plexiglass.
On one night, I cut the drawing to the prescribed lid size (his measurements were a little off). I used evenly spaced dots of clear silicone adhesive to make it stick to the box.
The next night, I ordered a piece of plexiglass cut to my measurements (which were perfect).
The fit was nice and snug but I added four dollops of clear silicone adhesive just in case.
The picture is inside the lid in a way that it can be carefully removed at some future point, should the family desire it in a frame.

I had previously put drawings on top of small boxes, and then sprayed over them with polyurethane. But this is a first for the inside, and is an idea worth repeating.
Even if the idea wasn't completely mine.

No. 218: Found All The Parts

No. 218, Rick Neilsen 2' x 2.5' (approx)

"Found All the Parts" is the name of the only Cheap Trick album that I do not have.
Actually it's just an EP, "Extended Play," with four songs.
If you have it on vinyl in either the 10'' or 12'' version, I want it. You know how to find me by now.

FOUND IT! June 2016,  "Found All The Parts" Cheap Trick 1980 Epic 10'' Nu-Disk

Rick Nielsen is Cheap Trick's lead guitarist and main man. His tone is somewhere between George Harrison and Black Sabbath, he's been known to play five or six guitars at once on stage, and he always wears that baseball cap.

I wanted something loud.

There is no deep thinking here.
I have just always liked Cheap Trick.  And songs about sex.
And hard volume.

I worked on this drawing in between three others, because I wanted something loud for my man cave. I painted a $4 frame bright red and drew this to fit. Red, black and white figure prominently in the band's album covers, logos etc.

The Wall of Heroes, and odd knobs.

I also worked on this drawing as I reassembled an old radio, cleaned up an old receiver, sorted through a bunch of old stereo parts, hooked up a few pieces of audio equipment, went through two boxes of Kleenex (I have a cold), and found a place for a bunch of drawing equipment gifted to me.
Found all the parts, see?

This drawing, and several more, are for sale at Tom Wills Productions.

hankbonesman@embarqmail.com or willstom01@gmail.com

The Big Radio

Philco 42-380 (1941)

Imagine the history that spoke from this radio.
Franklin D. Roosevelt's fireside chats. World War II. People gathered round the radio, anxious to hear what was happening in the big world.

Big radio, big world.

Tubes generating enough heat to warm the room.
Shortwave to listen in on London, Berlin and Tokyo. Havana, too.
A police band to monitor goings on in town.
AM radio to dance to.

Shortly after arrival. Busted face, broken feet, cracked faceplate.

My big radio, a Philco 42-380, is 72 years old. It sold for $75 in 1941.
It arrived in my driveway in the back of a pickup truck, from my friends Bob and Cindy Michael, who live at the very top of Ohio in Burghill.
They must have teriffic radio reception up and out there.
I would visit their secluded house with my art, and my dog, and we'd shoot the breeze.
In the small hallway between almost every room in the place sat the Philco, which I admired.
Bob said it worked and we plugged it in a couple of times.
It kind of bleeped and farted and hummed.
Oh well.  
It had been there a long, long time. 

Decades of dust.

This summer I had an occasion to deliver another picture up and out there, and we plugged in the Philco again. The knobs were missing and the faceplate was broken. There were just a few nicks in the wood -- otherwise it was perfect.
They said that I could have it if I repaired and cleaned a big 1970s Realistic receiver that Bob delivered in his truck, with the Philco.
There's not much space left in my man cave full of stuff, but I found a corner for "Phil."
Truthfully the more crap I cram down here, the less visits from upstairs. 

Tubes and tuning mechanism after an initial cleaning.

And here's another truth: I tore down and cleaned up the big radio first, and Bob's receiver afterward.
And I will also testify that it was a filthy beast. Seventy-two years of you-name-it lived in there, and one live cricket. I vacuumed and brushed and sprayed and scrubbed the hell out of it, and was still finding crud up to the day I reassembled everything.
Each tube got a shining.
The paper speaker, very fragile, tore twice. My fault. I repaired it and it works fine.

Heard  'round the world.

The restoration of 42-380 was approached as an art project.
Sure hoped it worked, but really wanted it to look pretty.
So, I made new radio knobs out of unfinished cabinet knobs, drilling holes in the back just big enough to slide onto the tuner spindles.

Fabricating the faceplate.

I used craft paint and a thin brush to touch up nicks in the wood.
Some of the faceplate was salvageable, and some of it got reconstructed with layers of cardboard, glue and paint. It was made of Bakelite, an early plastic that had warped and cracked.

Always plenty of newspaper here for painting projects.

Almost-finished faceplate, except for brown paint on rebuilt bottom edges.

But mostly it's wood, steel and glass. And now it is beautiful. 

It was an art project!

Although I was able to get all eight of the big vacuum tubes to glow, three of them are rather dim and I will replace them. There seem to be plenty available online but they are expensive.
The light bulbs inside are missing but I can order those, too. 

New feet (also cabinet knobs), new cloth grille.

Underneath the tuner are more worrisome problems: Paper capacitors resembling firecrackers, which hold electrical charge (there's a wire running through them) and electrolytic capacitors resembling fat crayons. They're a bit soggy and waxy, and I'm not so sure how much juice they can hold. I turn the radio on and off with a power strip and don't dare leave it plugged in.

"Phil."

There's a big moveable antenna in the back of the cabinet but it's nearly at floor level in my basement, so odds of its 72-year-old guts getting a strong signal are not great.
I'll get the tubes this winter and hook it up to an external antenna and see what happens.

The cabinet is ready for the faceplate.

It does turn on and warm up.
For now, it still bleeps and farts and hums.
But it is trying to find signals.
I can hear it trying.

That concludes today's broadcast.