Ladies and gentlemen, this is the last post in a string of posts that will mention seashells for a long, long time. Thank the heavens or curse the stars if you like. I’m just saying Amen.
I thought this was a stunning, amazing collection… until my sister and Virtual Troop Leader Victoria Gertenbach shared a photo of HER recent haul on the shores of Puerto Rico. Check it out:
Now THAT’s a collection of shells.
But we make do with what we have, I actually have something she doesn’t. I’ve got a staggering number of shells with holes naturally drilled into them (see this post for a quick explanation).
And it led me to one… more… task…
BADGE WORK UPDATE: ART IN 3-D
Have you ever heard wind chimes create music in the breeze? Have you ever seen toy planes or birds suspended over a crib lull a baby into sleep? They have something in common: they move. They’re kinetic. They’re mobile.
We’ve hung interesting things for a long, long time, but we can thank sculptor Alexander Calder for coining the word “mobile.” Correction: Avant-garde artist Marcel Duchamp actually coined the word upon seeing Calder’s work.
Let’s clear up some definitions here:
– A mobile is suspended. It’s engineered and balanced. It moves, either of its own accord, as a result of interaction with the viewer, or as a result of motors or electronics.
– A stabile (also made famous by Calder), is mounted or sits on the ground. Its primary structure does not move, although it may have moving parts.
I’ve come to care about these things because, as is often the case these days, a badge task told me I should. In fact, it’s a scout’s job to construct a mobile.
And, naturally (and for which I mildly apologize), I still had so many naturally-drilled shells left over from my January beach junket that I decided to give it a go. Here’s how I did it: