Not every creative thing I do is related to drawing or painting. Sometimes it's as simple as stacking stones. The term "art" might be a stretch for this project, but it seemed to occupy the same creative space as my studio activities, so I'm gonna call it "art".
There's a spot by the bottom of our driveway that was difficult to deal with. It was too steep to mow, too rock-hard to plant anything, and had roots from a dogwood tree that was just barely staying alive. So 14 years ago, we got a bunch of river rock and I stacked them against the hill. It protected the dogwood's roots and looked nicer than anything else we could think of. Over the years, though, the carefully-stacked rocks settled and moved, the UPS and FedEx trucks ran over them, and gradually they went from being stacked to just being a pile. Here's how they looked.
Finally, in August, I decided it was time to dismantle the stack and do it over while the weather was still decent. I sorted them into four piles: small, medium, large, and flat.
The next step was to start laying them down in a way that would be stronger and (hopefully) more long-lasting. I built up the strip along the driveway that was basically a drainage run first. The trick was to select and lay the rocks, then fill the spaces between them with pea gravel, and then fill the remaining space with sand. This locks them in place and minimizes how much they move. I think. I hope.
It took a heckuva lot longer than I thought. I started about the middle of August during a cool spell, thinking it would take maybe a week. Hah! It took a week just to remove the rocks! I found that I was good for maybe two or three hours at a stretch, starting in mid-morning and stopping when it got hot and this old body began to complain too much. Finally about mid-September, the project was completed. Here's how it looks now:
So why do I consider it "yard art"? The process of making it. River rock is all different sizes and shapes. They're round like baseballs, oblong like footballs, shaped like cubes or discs, angled, twisted, smooth, rough, gray, brown, yellow, red, you name it. You don't just pick one up and slam it down like you do with bricks. You have to find the right rock. I would stand there and look at the spot to be filled, getting a good visual feeling for the shape of the rock needed, then I'd go to the appropriate pile and find two or three. Then I'd try them all, test fitting them this way and that, until it seemed right. It wasn't really a conscious process, it was more like zen. When I was in the groove, the selections and fittings flowed smoothly; if I wasn't in the groove, I couldn't find the right rock to save my soul. And since each rock was different, I made use of that. There were large rocks next to small ones, flat next to cubes next to rounds, gray next to brown. It felt a lot like painting. Except, of course, the rocks were a helluva lot heavier than any brush I've ever picked up.
But it's done. And since I used some lessons learned from the last time I did this, 14 years ago, I hope it'll stay put longer. I'll be a really old fart in another 14 years and don't want to do this again!
There's a spot by the bottom of our driveway that was difficult to deal with. It was too steep to mow, too rock-hard to plant anything, and had roots from a dogwood tree that was just barely staying alive. So 14 years ago, we got a bunch of river rock and I stacked them against the hill. It protected the dogwood's roots and looked nicer than anything else we could think of. Over the years, though, the carefully-stacked rocks settled and moved, the UPS and FedEx trucks ran over them, and gradually they went from being stacked to just being a pile. Here's how they looked.
Finally, in August, I decided it was time to dismantle the stack and do it over while the weather was still decent. I sorted them into four piles: small, medium, large, and flat.
The next step was to start laying them down in a way that would be stronger and (hopefully) more long-lasting. I built up the strip along the driveway that was basically a drainage run first. The trick was to select and lay the rocks, then fill the spaces between them with pea gravel, and then fill the remaining space with sand. This locks them in place and minimizes how much they move. I think. I hope.
It took a heckuva lot longer than I thought. I started about the middle of August during a cool spell, thinking it would take maybe a week. Hah! It took a week just to remove the rocks! I found that I was good for maybe two or three hours at a stretch, starting in mid-morning and stopping when it got hot and this old body began to complain too much. Finally about mid-September, the project was completed. Here's how it looks now:
So why do I consider it "yard art"? The process of making it. River rock is all different sizes and shapes. They're round like baseballs, oblong like footballs, shaped like cubes or discs, angled, twisted, smooth, rough, gray, brown, yellow, red, you name it. You don't just pick one up and slam it down like you do with bricks. You have to find the right rock. I would stand there and look at the spot to be filled, getting a good visual feeling for the shape of the rock needed, then I'd go to the appropriate pile and find two or three. Then I'd try them all, test fitting them this way and that, until it seemed right. It wasn't really a conscious process, it was more like zen. When I was in the groove, the selections and fittings flowed smoothly; if I wasn't in the groove, I couldn't find the right rock to save my soul. And since each rock was different, I made use of that. There were large rocks next to small ones, flat next to cubes next to rounds, gray next to brown. It felt a lot like painting. Except, of course, the rocks were a helluva lot heavier than any brush I've ever picked up.
But it's done. And since I used some lessons learned from the last time I did this, 14 years ago, I hope it'll stay put longer. I'll be a really old fart in another 14 years and don't want to do this again!
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