A living sculpture.
AlI can say is,yeah. I fucking hate working on cars.
I mean by that: the essential maintenance and repair of a car is an absolute dirty, boring, bloody chore. Pay someone else if you can.
What is NOT a dirty, boring, bloody chore, is producing a WORK OF ART.
It has taken me almost a year, and I have nearly turned the shitty rusted broken-arse millstone into a rebuilt, clean, colourful, joy to own.
This is not a utilitarian victory so much as a creative metamorphosis. The van started life with me as almost a failure of sense and judgement. Well to be honest it was a complete and utter failure of sense and judgement. More than that, it was a failure involving delusion and weakness, possibly a hint of madness.
The one thing that kept me on with it was the sense of adventure. I was excited at the prospect of flying down and picking up an almost completely unknown vehicle, whose condition was disguised in mumbles as the guy ate his lunch while on the phone.
It was also a project of creation, and naturally as with everything I do it was a metaphorical redemption too.
Finally, I suppose, if anything, it was and still is a stubborn "Fuck You" to the world of shit-eating grins and dishonest dealings. As such it contains a large helping of Taking the Piss.
To be continued...
------------------
Oh yeah the fourth wheel got painted blue then black then white on the inside. This morning I masked it up for the design.
Sweet!
This evening I decided to clean up one of the others that was badly affected by white spraydrift.
Sweet!
All four will be ready for tyres in a week when the paint hardens up.
I mean by that: the essential maintenance and repair of a car is an absolute dirty, boring, bloody chore. Pay someone else if you can.
What is NOT a dirty, boring, bloody chore, is producing a WORK OF ART.
It has taken me almost a year, and I have nearly turned the shitty rusted broken-arse millstone into a rebuilt, clean, colourful, joy to own.
This is not a utilitarian victory so much as a creative metamorphosis. The van started life with me as almost a failure of sense and judgement. Well to be honest it was a complete and utter failure of sense and judgement. More than that, it was a failure involving delusion and weakness, possibly a hint of madness.
The one thing that kept me on with it was the sense of adventure. I was excited at the prospect of flying down and picking up an almost completely unknown vehicle, whose condition was disguised in mumbles as the guy ate his lunch while on the phone.
It was also a project of creation, and naturally as with everything I do it was a metaphorical redemption too.
Finally, I suppose, if anything, it was and still is a stubborn "Fuck You" to the world of shit-eating grins and dishonest dealings. As such it contains a large helping of Taking the Piss.
To be continued...
------------------
Oh yeah the fourth wheel got painted blue then black then white on the inside. This morning I masked it up for the design.
Sweet!
This evening I decided to clean up one of the others that was badly affected by white spraydrift.
Sweet!
All four will be ready for tyres in a week when the paint hardens up.