Day 82 - Actually Do a Diorama

Date: March 29th, 2010

There's been a lot of talk about dioramas recently.  I've even earned the nickname "diorama queen" from my dad.  I should probably just stop writing now, as I'll never be able to compete with that level of wordsmithery.  We both know that's not how that's going to go down.  Besides, there are apparently lots of different kinds of dioramas and now I've done... most of them.

There are sculptures that think they're dioramas:

Where's you're confidence, man?

There are diorama's that think they're sculptures:

 Keep dreaming, kiddo.

And, of course, there are dioramas that know they're dioramas:

They never look like the box says they will.

Now, as I mentioned the other day, there were two ideas that my dad and I had for the photo contest.  The one I came up with was the PEEPing Tom display and my dad's idea was a Little Bo PEEP scene.  For his scene, we needed an open field for the sheep to be gently grazing in as Little Bo PEEP watched over them lovingly.  That's where the third diorama comes in.  Now, while the other two projects were technically within the definition of diorama, they were not anywhere near as hardcore at this one.

Also, just for the record, that box did NOT include everything I needed to build the diorama.  I used a cardboard box for the base, a little plastic planting bowl to wet the plaster strips (told you it was hardcore... don't hate), and of course, the peeps.  The diorama makers and sellers should anticipate that their projects will be used for peep backgrounds and include peeps in the packaging.  I think I'm going to write to the president of the company and demand they start including peeps in the box.  I think it goes without saying, but that's a much better use of my time than my previously planned evening activity.  You know, purposely getting Lady Gaga songs stuck in my friends' heads.

In any case, we had created out Little Bo PEEP the other day as part of the general photo contest push.  There were a lot of attempts.  Several unnecessary peep-head-removal-surgeries.  And, of course, a few tears.  To be fair though, we had to do something to thin out the peep stash.

Such decadence.

So, what makes this diorama different enough to count for its own day, you might ask?  Plaster.  That's what makes it different.  So there.  In all seriousness though, there was actual construction involved.  I had to decide on the contours of my landmass but balling up newspapers and taping them in place.  I know that sounds highly scientific, but it was much more of a high art form than a science.  And by high art form I mean there was not logic to it at all.  And by no logic I mean that it got really annoying halfway through.

Once the paper was down I had to cut strips of plaster lining that came with the kit and lay them on top of the newspaper.  That part was kind of awesome, actually.  The plaster liner was brittle and dry (obviously) until I dunked it in the water bucket... then it seemed to melt completely and lose its shape.  It was like a neat, slimy, thin sponge.  I forgot how much fun it was to get my hands dirty for seemingly no reason.  Probably the best part was the note on the package containing the plaster liner admonishing people not to use it as a homemade cast.  Because when I have a broken arm or am looking for a prank, my first thought is "hey, this diorama kit might have what I need to make a fake cast".  I assume that is most people's first thought as well.

In any case, I was actually pretty pleased with the final pre-peep result (as well as the post-peep result, for that matter).  The "grass" was made of green dust that I had to sprinkle on after spraying a homemade glue-water mixture onto the dried plaster.  Like I said - this diorama was significantly more hardcore than the ones that came before it.  It also gave the landscape a little bit of a giant, misshapen, stale sugar cookie look.

It was then that the Cookie Monster realized it was time to go back to rehab.

Once the grass, bushes, plaster and underpaint were dry it was time to place the sheep.  My dad's vision was Little Bo Peep standing atop a hill and looking over her flock.  I... did what I could.  I did discover something magical about working with peeps though.  If they're stale, they don't smush when you stab them with toothpicks.  They don't scream either, but then, neither do fresh peeps.

Now, here's the thing about a shepherd standing atop a hill and looking down on his flock.  Its kind of... Biblical.  You know, in a good way.  See, once we got the peep-sheep and Little Bo PEEP positioned, it looked a little more like Charlton Heston in the Ten Commandments.  Well, if Charlton Heston was a green peep with a cupcake holder for a dress.  I think the comparison is valid.  Just look.

"Let my PEEPle go!"

This diorama felt somehow more daunting than the ones before it.  I'm not sure why.  It seemed like there was more involved and, consequently, I was prouder when I was finished with it than the others.  Don't get me wrong - I was super proud of the others.  This one though... I shaped that land.  It is the weird humpy-hill that I created.  There's something neat about that.  I have been feeling steadily more handy whenever I finish projects like these.  I think my confidence with artistic rigmarole is improving ever so slightly.  We'll see.  Maybe I'll convince myself I can be an ice sculptor in time for winter.