Realistic Solutions

Best, of course, is an elegant solution. A certain grace. When you build a two-story house you have to access the second floor. Early in the process you build a temporary set of stairs, these are completely utilitarian, built in a day. Cut a couple of stringers, 2x10 treads, eight inch rise, there is no thought to aesthetics. The "finish" stairs are often one of the last of the hundreds of steps involved in building a house. When I was building (I'll not build another set of stairs) I'd look at the space they were to occupy, every day, for months, always with consideration of the materials involved, then build them. I'm blessed (the set designer, Herbert Senn, was responsible for this) with the ability to see a particular project in three dimensions. I can visualize things really well. So, at night, with a drink and a smoke, often in the dark, I'd build whatever set of stairs in my head. I enjoy solving problems, so I'd consider every connection, every attachment, cut all the pieces; then, usually on a holiday weekend, when things were quiet, I'd install them. The last three or four were elegant. One of the great things about the building trades, is that if you pay attention you get better. Thinking something through, completely and rigorously, you know instantly when there is a glitch. You stop and think about the glitch, review the solutions, decide on a course of action, note any special hardware that might be necessary, get on with the mental construction. When the entire sequence goes smoothly, you're ready to build the stairs. I tend to work with exotic materials, not because I want to, but because people leave them on my steps. A figured log, some interesting pavers, an image of John Wayne on a tortilla. I'm the number one unbeliever. I don't believe in anything. Even the silly blue flowers, chicory and a weed that I can't identify. It pisses me off when I can't identify something.