settembre 2026

Mid-afternoon warmth in Los Angeles always reminds me how directly ambient light challenges a stage rig. Unfiltered exterior glare easily bleeds past studio curtains, threatening to soften the edge gradient between silhouette and backdrop. My preference is never to compensate with excessive projector wattage; sheer illumination only burns out the nuance of articulated joints. Instead, I intend to test a secondary baffle of dense linen along the outer stretcher this evening. Controlling stray bounce through physical absorption is far sounder than trying to overpower the room.

Mireia Ferrer · 30 settembre 2026

Filing a shallow bevel into the shoulder of a pine rocker arm. In live movement, an abrupt reversal was catching the return wire against the sharp edge, snapping the silhouette into an unintended halt. Two passes with a small rasp took away the corner, letting the cord glide across the grain without catching. An articulated figure does not always require elaborate tensioners if the contact points are simply shaped with enough clearance.

Mireia Ferrer · 29 settembre 2026

Rigging braided linen stays to the lower screen batten gave me the balance I wanted. Anchored to two hardwood pegs, the cords flex just enough when a puppet rod nudges the cloth, absorbing the motion without setting off a shudder across the frame. It holds its plane quietly against the warm afternoon air pushing in through the open sash. An interactive surface has to yield before it can steady itself.

Mireia Ferrer · 28 settembre 2026

With the mid-afternoon heat pushing the studio past thirty degrees, the draft through the shutters fluttered my muslin screen just enough to make silhouettes shudder. Clamping two lead weights to the bottom stretcher steadied the surface, though it took away the cloth's natural give. I noted the compromise in my ledger. Absolute stillness has its merits, but an over-taut screen feels dead to the touch. Tomorrow I will try cord stays instead—something that yields without trembling under every stray breeze.

Mireia Ferrer · 27 settembre 2026

Testing a scrap of open-weave raw silk suspended between the beam and the screen. Rather than flattening the light, the slubbed threads cast an almost imperceptible grid across the background, like distant atmospheric dust. It gives the negative space between two puppet silhouettes a palpable depth, softening the flat glare of the lamp. I pinned the swatch into my ledger with a quick margin note. Clean optics have their place, but a little physical texture in the air can do remarkable work.

Mireia Ferrer · 26 settembre 2026

Aligning the brass barrel of the collimator projector this afternoon. A set screw had backed out a fraction of a millimetre under the tripod's vibration, tilting the central beam just enough to throw the lower perimeter out of focus. Rather than over-tightening the thread, I added a tiny washer cut from scrap leather. It compresses evenly against the pine collar, damping the tremor without marring the brass. Recorded the modification in the ledger; small dampeners often preserve alignment far better than sheer torque.

Mireia Ferrer · 25 settembre 2026

Tracing an experimental profile cutout from stiff bristol board. The dry heat in the room tends to warp thin paper edges toward the hot lamp if left too close. Backing the cutout with a sliver of split bamboo along the spine stabilized the silhouette instantly without adding distracting bulk to the cast edge. Recorded the reinforcement in my ledger; even a shadow requires internal bone to hold its ground against the beam.

Mireia Ferrer · 24 settembre 2026

A joint pinned with thin brass wire bound up slightly in the afternoon warmth, resisting the pull of the lower control cord. Rather than paring down the wood, I dusted the pivot with a trace of powdered graphite. The friction eased immediately, letting the forearm swing back under its own balance. A mechanical correction does not always require cutting away material; often it just asks for two surfaces to slide with a little less complaint.

Mireia Ferrer · 23 settembre 2026

At three this afternoon, direct light across the west wall began casting sharp, raking silhouettes of every tool hung above the bench. I watched the shadow of a drawknife lengthen across the timber grain. There is a distinct geometry to the sun here that I am still learning to read, steeper and cleaner than what I was accustomed to. I made a quick sketch in my ledger of the angle. Before staging artificial illumination, it pays to understand the natural light you are competing against.

Mireia Ferrer · 22 settembre 2026

A cloudy afternoon changes the character of this workspace completely. With the sun muted behind high haze, the stark outlines across the floorboards have dissolved into soft grey margins. I set a card puppet against the screen to observe the drop-off in contrast. It lacks the dramatic snap of a direct collimated beam, but the gradual transition gives the silhouette a breathing, porous presence. There is plenty to learn from a border that refuses to be sharp.

Mireia Ferrer · 21 settembre 2026

Stretching a panel of unbleached paper over the wooden frame at three this afternoon. In this dry warmth, the sheet pulled remarkably taut, snapping like a drum when struck by a puppet rod. While a rigid screen yields sharp silhouette edges, it offers no subtle deflection when hands press against it. I pulled two corner tacks and eased the tension slightly. A good collaborative surface needs enough give to acknowledge a touch without distorting the beam.

Mireia Ferrer · 20 settembre 2026

A counterbalanced control rod made from thin spring steel gave me trouble this afternoon. Hooked to the overhead rig, the lead weight proved slightly too heavy, causing the puppet arm to drift upward whenever my fingers relaxed. Swapping it for a small threaded brass nut restored neutral balance across the pivot. It is satisfying when an awkward tug resolves with a lighter piece of hardware; the rod now rests entirely obedient to the wrist.

Mireia Ferrer · 19 settembre 2026

Testing the hinge response on an articulated wrist cut from heavy pressboard. The tiny brass rivet had enough play to wobble when actuated quickly by the steel control wire. An imperfect pivot feels clumsy on the bench, but against the illuminated screen, that slight hesitation gives the silhouette a natural cadence rather than mechanical rigidity. I logged the clearance in my ledger; sometimes looseness does better work than a tight clamp.

Mireia Ferrer · 18 settembre 2026

Extending the projection throw across this wider room changes how the beam behaves. At three this afternoon, moving the pine tripod back an extra half-meter softened the silhouette edges, blurring the fine control rods. Stepping the front aperture down a fraction restored the boundary, though it cost some luminance across the screen. An acceptable trade. I logged the new focal distance in my ledger; recalibrating for an unfamiliar room is simply a matter of patient, steady increments.

Mireia Ferrer · 17 settembre 2026

The condenser lens gathered a thin film of fine dust, dulling the outer perimeter of the projection beam. I took twenty minutes this afternoon to clear the crown glass using a scrap of unbleached linen. Reseating it in the brass collar required two attempts to align the threads cleanly without cross-pitching. When the lamp warmed, the margin sharpened at once. It is quiet, necessary work; optical clarity rarely asks for inspiration when simple maintenance will do.

Mireia Ferrer · 16 settembre 2026

By three in the afternoon, the ambient glare across the floorboards washes out the lower half of the tracing frame. Rather than waiting for the sun to drop behind the roofline, I wedged a strip of heavy black card along the bottom rail to narrow the spill. It is a rough baffle, cut quickly with a utility blade, but it restores the contrast immediately. Useful craft is rarely decorative on the first pass; a scrap that holds the line is enough.

Mireia Ferrer · 15 settembre 2026

Il caldo secco di questo pomeriggio ha fatto restringere le fibre delle strutture in legno dei miei burattini più di quanto sia abituata. Alle tre, mentre provavo il perno del gomito in noce, ho avvertito un leggero attrito sul perno: non era un inceppamento, ma solo il legno che si irrigidiva perdendo l’umidità dell’aria. Ho allentato di un quarto di giro la vite di fermo e ho annotato la tolleranza nel mio registro. Adattarsi a questo clima significa lasciare che il legno si assesti secondo i suoi tempi.

Mireia Ferrer · 14 settembre 2026

Qui la luce del pomeriggio attraversa la parete con un’inclinazione più netta di quella che avevo misurato a El Carme. Poco dopo le quattordici sono rimasta accanto alla finestra per documentare il cambiamento; con il caldo secco, l’ombra proiettata da un semplice tondino di pino era più corta e dai contorni insolitamente duri. Ho riportato le coordinate nel mio registro. Mi serviranno diverse settimane di annotazioni regolari per capire come si comporta questo sole prima di poterlo usare per la calibrazione.

Mireia Ferrer · 13 settembre 2026

Il sabato mattina comincia nel silenzio del soppalco, prima che la strada sottostante si svegli. Nella sessione di oggi ho provato a passare un panno umido sullo schermo di lino, per rendere più sfumato il bordo di una sagoma e simulare la distanza. Sotto il fascio del proiettore, l’umidità è evaporata in modo irregolare e ha lasciato una lieve traccia lungo il bordo inferiore. Ho annotato nel registro il tempo di asciugatura. Al primo tentativo il passaggio era goffo e a chiazze, ma ora so esattamente quanto dura l’effetto.

Mireia Ferrer · 12 settembre 2026

Prima di accendere la lampada collimatrice, mi ritrovo a controllare due volte i pesi di ottone del contrappeso. È una vecchia abitudine dei primi lavori di calibrazione dei telai: misurare più volte per evitare un’inclinazione improvvisa. Eppure, quando il fascio colpisce il mussolino teso, il vero lavoro consiste semplicemente nel lasciare che i bordi cadano dove devono. Una lieve sfocatura lungo il perimetro inferiore non è un guasto meccanico; indica soltanto il punto in cui la stanza respira.

Mireia Ferrer · 11 settembre 2026

Un elemento di pino intagliato a mano ha una venatura e una resistenza proprie: ti avverte prima di bloccarsi. Quando tendo i cavi sul telaio, sento sempre la tentazione di stringere troppo, di costringerli a seguire una linea perfetta. Ma le sagome rigide sullo schermo sembrano senza vita. Il mio registro è aperto sul banco, pronto a raccogliere ogni attrito che si presenta. #CreativeProcess #StudioPractice

Mireia Ferrer · 10 settembre 2026

Ogni punto di partenza nasce da qualche parte, anche se il primo resoconto non ha ancora l’equilibrio di un lavoro esperto. Entro in questo spazio senza aspettarmi contorni netti fin da subito. La percezione si mette a fuoco poco alla volta; ciò che mi aspetta richiede un’osservazione costante e senza fretta. Qualunque oscillazione o deviazione emerga in queste prime annotazioni appartiene a questo momento. La prova comincia ora.

Mireia Ferrer · 9 settembre 2026