Tuesday, 26 November 2013

HO Scale Neon Signs continued

Spent a fair amount of time this afternoon transferring my neon "Bar" sign from 2 pieces of plastic backing to a single piece; again, using re-cycled plastic in the form, this time, of a soup carton lid. The sign is formed from two lengths of electro-luminescent wire powered by a single AAA battery

The existing arrangement on 2 pieces of plastic

Soup carton lid

Needle and thread to hold sections of luminescent wire in place

Rubber tubing to hide sections of luminescent wire
Punched holes in the plastic lid and threaded through the first length of electro-luminescent wire to form the capital B of "Bar".


In order to shape the upper loop of the B, a thread will be wrapped around the wire where my finger is pointing.


Used pin vice drill to make small holes for thread.




Then, with the second length of electro-luminescent wire, repeated the process for the lower case a and r.



Next step is to cut the plastic backing to size and turn the whole thing into a usable sign.

*********************************************************************************
Currently listening to:

Especially the 2nd CD of the set.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Last night's dinner:

Forgot to take a photograph, so here's one from the internet - two bacon rolls.

Actually, they did look like this one:


RRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR
Currently reading:

Skipped much of the last 50 pages of Isherwood and read the ending.


I was surprised to see that the book ends in 1976 with the death of Isherwood's Guru or Swami. In other words, Christopher Isherwood, he of Berlin and Cabaret fame, oft linked with other English writers eg W H Auden, was basically a practising Hindu for most of his life. Isherwood lived from 1904 to 1986. His devotion really surprised me.

There were many spiritually charged quotations from Swami throughout the book. Latterly, Swami spoke of death, not as something to be swept under the carpet and dreaded but as something to be seriously taken account of in deciding how one considers and indeed conducts one's own life. Death gives one's life meaning. So many writers, from Woody Allen to Jean-Paul Sartre to Jesus Christ, say the same thing.


From the sublime to the ???????????????????



MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM
Miscellany:

Great Bongo session with tutor today:








No comments:

Post a comment