The Treehouse + The Cave

The Treehouse + The Cave: The Smoke Pot <body><script type="text/javascript"> function setAttributeOnload(object, attribute, val) { if(window.addEventListener) { window.addEventListener('load', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }, false); } else { window.attachEvent('onload', function(){ object[attribute] = val; }); } } </script> <div id="navbar-iframe-container"></div> <script type="text/javascript" src=""></script> <script type="text/javascript"> gapi.load("", function() { if (gapi.iframes && gapi.iframes.getContext) { gapi.iframes.getContext().openChild({ url: '\x3d9561264\x26blogName\x3dThe+Treehouse+%2B+The+Cave\x26publishMode\x3dPUBLISH_MODE_BLOGSPOT\x26navbarType\x3dBLACK\x26layoutType\x3dCLASSIC\x26searchRoot\x3d\x26blogLocale\x3den_US\x26v\x3d2\x26homepageUrl\x3d\x26vt\x3d-2611371644715887499', where: document.getElementById("navbar-iframe-container"), id: "navbar-iframe" }); } }); </script>

Friday, June 24, 2005

The Smoke Pot

The Smoke Pot - Small
Please view the full-scale image as well.

Throughout the summer of 2003, Heather and I were apart. I was unemployed and she was about to begin grad school, so we opted to avoid city rent for a few months. We retreated to our respective families' homes; I summered in a New Jersey basement, she in the conservative hills surrounding the University of Virginia.

Each of us took advantage of the months, spending time with our younger siblings before they went off to first-year. I kept my brother busy pirating music by the gig, helping me retouch magazine work, and setting up a home network for my parents. Heather and her sister made The Smoke Pot.

House rules dictated that they smoke outside, and as two sisters (and smokers) will do when they haven't been together in a while, they burned through cartons on the stoop and in the garage. After complaints of errant butts from their mother grew tiring, they resolved to craft a solution.

It started with repurposed terra cotta, and continued through several runs to big-box craft stores. They picked up acrylics and dyed sand, drawing the project out over weeks for the sake of it.

The pot lived for years in Charlottesville, and has now retired to the South Carolina shore; the magically damp and slow land from which we just returned.

Blogger heather thought:

actually, i think the smoke pot was made in a single afternoon. but the cleaning and replacing of the sand has become a longterm project in and of itself. mom makes sure we have fresh bags every time we're home, and we use pieces of cardboard to vertically divide the pot, filling each partition with a different color, so it comes out striped.

June 24, 2005 at 3:36 PM - Comment Permalink  

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