Dremeling for Fun and Leisure: A Tutorial

I love my Dremel, and since I've gotten so many really nice (and undeserved!) comments on my recent efforts I thought I'd share a few of my techniques.  Most of what I've learned--in real life as well as in mini life--has been through trial and error.  A lot of horribly deformed lumps paved the way for anything remotely resembling an actual geometric shape.  Hopefully hearing about my mistakes can save you some trouble!

The first and really most important issue, I think, is which Dremel to use.  I mentioned before, I have the 4000.  It's a little extra, but comes with some very important features that cheaper Dremels don't have.  In particular:

1. a variable speed motor, and
2.  a really hardcore little motor.

I find the variable speed to be indispensable.  Just like with a table saw, different applications (and types of materials) require different speeds.  I've been making the embellishments on the Haunted Beacon Hill out of basswood, because it's lightweight and easy to work with.  I also find that it's very easy to dremel on.  The temptation is to set the motor on its lowest speed and go really slowly, so you don't mess anything up.  But don't!  I've found that too-slow dremeling makes for uneven, pitted lines.  It takes a little practice, but I personally find that I get cleaner, more elegant results when I set my motor somewhere between 15 and 25.

As for materials, don't use balsa.  It's so appealingly soft, this seems like a great time-saver.  But since it is so soft, it doesn't hold its shape at all.  Which, particularly when you're trying to create 16 (or more) identical pieces is a real drag.  I've used hardwoods, too--mainly walnut--but it depends on your final goal.  There's no sense in using really nice (expensive) wood if you're just going to glue bricks down on top of it.

I've actually had Dremels burn out on me.  When I first started making miniatures, my ambitions were, in some cases, ah, bigger than my abilities--or tools.  A not-so-great motor is fine for light work, but if you're planning on spending the afternoon working with a tool, keep in mind that it--that any tool--can and will overheat.  The only question is how long of a grace period you'll get.  The better the motor, the longer you can go--and the quicker its recovery time.

So, having said all this, the real key to successful results is--I think--the design of the piece itself.  Don't create unnecessary work--and misery--for yourself!  It's like with anything else: just because the final project looks like a single piece of wood, doesn't mean it is.  Use the same principles of addition, subtraction and compounding you'd use in, say, designing a piece of wainscoting.  It's really pretty amazing, what a bunch of different little sticks can turn into.

I always start with a (usually life sized) scaled design so I know what I'm actually trying to make.  A few millimeters here or there can make a big difference!  Having a design is also really convenient, because you can turn it into a pattern.  Here, I've cut out sections of my latest window design to use as a pattern, not just for getting the angles right but for placing them on the wood itself. 

What will hopefully become the dormer windows on the Haunted Beacon Hill.

Instead of suffering along, trying to cut compound angles, I create a lot of different, separate pieces and glue them together.  An aside: use Quick Grip, or some other non-water based glue, as it won't warp your wood.  So, for example, if I want the eventual width of my arch to be 3", I'll cut two 1 1/2" strips and use them to make two mirrored pieces.  Which, well, this can get confusing so yet another reason to have a pattern.

I periodically check my pieces against the pattern and against each other.  Usually, after I create the first piece--i.e. the first concave arch half--I use that piece, itself, as a pattern, tracing its shape onto my other pieces of wood.  Then, moving forward, I always check my work against that original piece.  Otherwise, I've found, mistakes can multiply.  A millimeter here or there, over the course of, say, 16 arches, can mushroom into pieces that, by the end, look nothing alike.

I always number my pieces, so I know what's supposed to go with what.

I usually do a rough cut to remove as much bulk as I can from the angle, then finish it off with my Dremel.  I probably end up removing about 1/4" (sometimes slightly more) with my Dremel.  Particularly with some shapes, it's hard to get in close enough to the line without sawing up your piece.

Then, once I'm satisfied with the shape--and uniformity--of all my pieces, I start gluing everything together.  Carefully.  I usually keep checking my work against a ruler, to make sure the shape I want is what's actually taking form.

Sometimes, mid-project, I make a change.  That's what happened here.  Preliminaries are good, but nothing beats seeing your work in the actual flesh.  I realized, when I was looking at the window, that I wasn't happy with the height of the dormer or the allowance I'd made for trim.  The trim I'd planned on using looked great on paper but really dinky in real life.

Realizing something isn't quite right...

So what I did was--and this is another great benefit of making everything piecemeal--insert a larger cornice.  I used 1/4" cove molding on a base of 1/4" x 3/8" balsa.  The reason I used balsa is, this all is going to be covered with stone powder (specifically Richard Stacey modeling dust) later on.  When I can use lighter, cheaper materials I do.

The new, improved window.

This window is going to have two embellishments: columns, and a carving.  That's what the larger head is for--to support the carving.  But that's a ways away (the materials I need to create it haven't arrived in the mail yet and besides, I do work...sort of).  For the columns, I'm echoing the same pattern I used on the central stained glass window.  The capital and plinth are reclaimed parts from veranda posts, and the column (which is actually a pilaster, I suppose) is 1/4" half round molding.  

First, I cut the actual capitals.  Then, I figured out how long I needed the plinth to be, and where on the window it was going to attach.  Then, I cut a test piece of 1/4" half round molding to fit--and once I knew I had the right fit, I cut seven more.  I then assembled each window from the top down, attaching capital, column body, and plinth.  That way, I could be (more or less) assured of their uniformity.

Photo courtesy of Manchester Woodworks.

This isn't the greatest picture ever, but if you examine the top of the veranda post, you can see the little urn-like shape.  If you flip your computer upside down, you'll see the pilaster, too--it's the bit above the little urn-like shape.  It's just upside down right now, so it's hard to tell.  When I cut the columns in half, I only cut about halfway down (I might want the bottoms for something else, who knows, plus it's a real drag to risk your fingers like that).  This is exactly the kind of thing I love my small table saw (the MicroLux) for.

I like to think it doesn't look like a middle American porch anymore!

 The plinth extends past the foot of the window, allowing for the slope of the roof.  I tested the pieces against the roof before cutting anything.  Also, too, it's worth mentioning that I dry-fitted the sill and walls at the same time to make sure that everything was squaring off.  It's such a sinking feeling, when you realize that you've cut everything to tolerate an off angle and, as a result...nothing fits.

Finally, this is the window, in place and waiting for its carving.  So far, the house doesn't look particularly scary; I'm relying on my as yet unrealized carvings to give it the proper sense of atmosphere.  I'm excited!

Any thoughts?

The Gothic Makeover Continues...

Today, my mini (no pun intended) vacation continued and I did some work on the windows.  There's still a lot of work to do--I kept getting sidetracked by my very interesting family--but I'm fairly happy with what I've got so far.  First, I did some research.  And no, my research didn't solely consist of watching Dark Shadows.  Which, by the way, was really bad!  I love Tim Burton but, sadly, art direction does not a movie make.

For the center window, I looked at number of different windows, both online and in my actual books.  I wish I knew where to credit this picture, it's wonderful--and gives a lot of really good suggestions, as far as the type of window I'm trying to make.

The rectangular windows are going to be comparatively simple; for inspiration, I looked at a variety of casement windows from different periods, Tudor through Empire.  This particular picture comes from the excellent library at the University of Washington.  It's especially useful for my purposes, as it's the same brick and stone combination I'm attempting with the Haunted Beacon Hill.

I'm back to thinking that light gray stone is the way to go, now that I've actually received my modeling dust packets in the mail.  The window doesn't have much depth right now, because I'm leaving room for the "glass."  Once it's properly installed, I'll sandwich it between two layers of "stone," and its from the second layer that the sensation of depth will come.

This was harder to design than it looks.

Once again, I went nuts with my Dremel.  The columns are a mishmash of different things: the actual columns themselves are 1/4" half rounds, and the foot and cap are bits I cut from veranda posts.  I cut the posts themselves in half, so they'd lie flush with the window, then cut out the bits I needed.  This is, arguably, wasteful but I find that, eventually, I end up using all my extra porch bits somehow.  I've got a box of odd but useful bits that I regularly root through.

The rectangular windows are going to be a combination of dressed stone and wood.  The surround itself will be dressed stone; the casements themselves will be wood and, as with their larger cousins in the earlier picture, they'll have smaller square panes.  Instead of lead golf tape, out of respect to the fact that lead is poisonous and I don't want anyone in my family eating it, I'll be using copper.  You'll have to use your imagination a little bit, here; without the smaller panes, the windows look a bit dull.

The extra bit of balsa will support a "carved stone" arch.  I fully assembled the window before deciding whether I wanted to add it.  It's tough, too, because sometimes things that look horribly plain in naked basswood look horribly over-fixed once they've been clad in brick, stone, etc.

Thoughts?  How's everyone else doing their windows?

Haunted Beacon Hill Porch--Gothic Makeover

The original Beacon Hill, while lovely, doesn't necessarily lend itself to a Gothic theme.  To that end, I've been giving it a little facelift.  It's really still in the beginning stages, so you'll have to use your imagination a bit, but I figured I'd share what I've done so far. 

This is how it started:

The original Beacon Hill, photo courtesy of Greenleaf.

First, of course, I enlarged the dining room and built out the basement.  My next challenge is to update the facade of the house itself and, so far, I've started on the porch and one of the windows.  When complete, it'll be a combination of red brick and sandstone.  The windows are going to be a combination of stained glass and plain, diamond paned glass.  The square windows are, I think, going to be (opening) casements.

The house so far.

At the halfway point...

I lengthened the porch and added a front cupola.  The design is inspired by various stone colonnades I've seen in real life.  This is a great excuse, since I've always wanted to build one.  Eventually, there'll be a slight pitch on the porch roof, which will be copper.  I'm also waiting on the gable trim, and still making the crenelations.

Coasters make great weights!

The columns are an amalgam of found items.  The bases are wood spools from Michael's; the columns themselves are 1/4" dowels, and the caps are--again--wood spools that I cut in half.  So far, I'm pretty pleased with the results--and the price!  I think they'll look fairly convincing once they've been made into "stone."  And with all these arches, my Dremel is getting a good workout!  I come up from the basement literally coated in sawdust; hours later, it's still sifting down out of my hair.

Then, while I waited for a few things to dry, I started on the front bay window.  No, not everything on this house is going to be pointy, but I thought it suited the shape!  It's still a little plain looking, because I'm leaving room for decorative carvings.

Eventually the crenelations will carry around the front of the porch and cupola, as well.

So that's where I am right now.  It's starting to look a little bit different, which is gratifying.  Tomorrow I'm going to start on the rest of the windows and, once I'm finished with the basic wood shapes, I'll start on the carvings, ahem, Sculpey.  At first I was worried that sandstone would look too cheerful, but then I figured, hey, it works on Disney's Haunted Mansion, right?

Thoughts?

Haunted Beacon Hill--Shell So Far

So I've been spending a few late nights (and really early mornings) working on the Beacon Hill.  While I haven't gotten as far as I'd like, I'm pretty pleased with what I have managed to get done.  There's still a lot of foundation work left to do--particularly on the cliffs/landscaping, front porch, and catacombs--but at least now, finally, the house's ultimate form is starting to emerge.

First, I built the "basement" level, which will also support the landscaping.  I've left most of the trim off the house, because I plan on doing some serious renovations.  The porch in particular is going to look very different once I'm done with it.  The roof is half built, because I'm considering hiding some wiring in the gaps. 

 Yes, it's huge.

This form will eventually be covered with paper clay and painted, so it looks like cliffs instead of floral foam.

The catacombs (which are loosely based on some real life catacombs) are going to be a combination of brick and stone.  Adding this in was actually Jim's idea--he has very good ones, and is quite patient in listening to me rant about dollhouses--and I really like how it's turning out.  Catacombs say, "this is a haunted house," without being too obvious about it.  You need a few creepy elements, right?

The "altar" area is missing--well, apart from the actual altar--its decoration.  It'll look better once I'm done with it, I promise!

The beginnings of a hidden staircase...

Then, upstairs, the dining room is now a reasonable size.

I more or less have the design for the parlor worked out...I think.   One issue, design-wise, that I'm having is I'm not quite sure where to put the lighting.  I know where to put the hidden lighting (just to give some sense of ambient light) but as for sconces, ceiling fixtures, etc...ugh.  This house is roughly 1880's, so gas light is appropriate--but how much of it?

I have big plans for that poor stove.  I'm really looking forward to finishing both sides of the basement.  The storeroom will be fun to decorate...if I ever get there.  So far, I'm going at the pace of snail.

The cliffs are mostly still a work in progress--but a fun one!

This bizarre half round shape is going to be a little formal garden with a balustrade.  I've seen arrangements like this in real life, both here and overseas, and think it suits the general theme.  Plus, it's a good excuse to use my Sue Cook sundial.

This is what I suppose will end up being the master bedroom, but I'm running short of inspiration for it at the moment.

This is probably meant to be the bathroom, but I'm going to turn it into a small library.

This is going to be a wizardly sort of little office area.

And this will be another bedroom.

As you've undoubtedly noticed, the tower is sort of floating on top of the house.  I'm leaving it detachable until I've finished decorating it; I envision it as some sort of little stargazing/spellcraft nook.  The roof is going to be glass.  It's a very small space, but I have high hopes.

After I finish the basic wood forms for the catacombs, my next project will be extending the porch and giving it a Gothic flair.

So that's it so far!  If you want to know how I did anything, let me know and I'll write about it.