Words&Dirt

The notion that an authentic assessment of value requires more than a cursory glance manifests in many forms: don’t judge a book by its cover; appearances can be deceiving; all that glitters is not gold; his beauty was only skin deep.  My upbringing was riddled with reminders of this sort, but it was also clear to me––even as a child––that looks do matter, even if we’d prefer they didn’t.  It didn’t take long to expose the puzzling conflict between humanity’s celebration of deeper substance and our obsession with superficial appearance.

Superficiality gets a bad rap, mostly because few of us want to admit how truly superficial we are––how superficial we must be.  Heuristic judgments derived from prima facie moments are built into our social natures, and we’d have a devil of a time trying to make it through the day without them.  I’ve learned that while superficial observations can be more pragmatically useful than I was led to believe as a child, they also never constitute a comprehensive assessment of worth.  Those who overemphasize appearance seem to live less fully, missing out on the inner beauty of individuals and communities that lack epidermal allure.  But trying to penetrate every facade is exhausting, especially in a world as full of smoke and mirrors as ours.  Vacillating between these two perspectives, I am a snooty dispenser of snap judgments as well as a dogged pursuer of what lies beneath.

Our judgments about buildings follow a similar pattern.  Though few people are trained to make detailed critiques of a structure’s visual appeal (or lack thereof), everyone can be awestruck by a truly magnificent edifice or dismayed at the sight of one brought low by shoddy craftsmanship or decay.  Just like our social impulses, these judgments are not simply frivolous; a building’s exterior denotes its potential longevity as well as the thoughtfulness and expertise of its creators.

In the case of my humble garage, the finishing touches began with trim around the door, windows, and corners.  Next came the bats––vertical strips of wood that give the walls depth and cover the joints between sections of siding.

Trimmed and ready for bats

First row of bats done

Installing the bats can be tricky work.  Sean and Dan had to arrange them symmetrically in a layout that aligned with the original stud layout.  This ensured that the bats could nail into something more solid than just siding.  Designing a suitable bat layout was more challenging for the front and back walls than the side walls because the pre-built trusses didn’t follow the exact same stud layout as the wall frames we constructed.  In a few places, we put in extra blocking to give the bats something to shoot into.  For this first row, we also had to cut the bats at the proper length and angle (18.5 degrees) to be flush against the trim running underneath the roof overhang.

Finished

These bats are the same style as our existing house, so they’ll help with aesthetic continuity between our old and new buildings.  They also cover the joints between sections of siding where rot might set in.  Just like layers of skin cells that create the illusion of a firm barrier between body and environment, a good wall consists of layers that overlap enough to minimize the structure’s susceptibility to threats from the elements, as well as from intruding plants and animals.

After the bats were up, the final step was painting.  Paint adds both aesthetic appeal and additional protection from decay.  Before painting, it’s important to cover all surfaces to which paint should not be applied, such as windows, light fixtures, etc.  We started with a layer of primer.  Primer facilitates paint bonding with the wood and extends the paint job’s lifespan.

Primed

To turn a week-long job into the work of an afternoon, Dan and Sean used a paint sprayer to apply the primer and paint.  In the hands of an experienced user, this tool allows for quick application and consistent coating.  It’s probably not the most environmentally friendly method because plenty of paint gets sprayed into the air, but it definitely gets the job done quickly.

Let there be color!

Sean was meticulous with the sprayer, careful not to spray too much or too little in one spot.  It’s largely a one-man job, but Dan and I helped by holding cardboard to keep paint off the foundation and other exposed areas.

A good paint job gives an impression of health and vibrancy, demonstrating a desire for permanence and reflecting the self-image of its creators.  Cleaning out the old garage, I recently came face to face with a vestige of my own self-image:

My name is scrawled in cursive on the back of this grotesque figure, leading me to believe I created it sometime during 3rd grade.  Apparently my elementary school self occupied a world in which freckles looked like smallpox, complementary colors were irrelevant to clothing design, and red tufts of hair in and around one’s ears were the height of fashion.  I can only hope this horrendous effigy was a product of my utter lack of artistic acumen rather than a genuine facsimile of my appearance at the time.  Regardless of any vice or virtue beneath the surface, any sensible person would pity this creature when passing him on the street.  It’s a sad truth, but a truth nevertheless: sometimes skin deep is deep enough.

I am happy my new garage is no such monstrosity.  Fortunately for us all, I have learned other ways to arrange shape, color, and line––ones better suited to my interests and affinities.