setembro de 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 de setembro de 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 de setembro de 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 de setembro de 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 de setembro de 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 de setembro de 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 de setembro de 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 de setembro de 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 de setembro de 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 de setembro de 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 de setembro de 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 de setembro de 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 de setembro de 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 de setembro de 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 de setembro de 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 de setembro de 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 de setembro de 2026

O calor seco desta tarde deixou os veios das armações de madeira dos bonecos mais tensionados do que estou acostumada. Às três horas, ao testar o pivô de nogueira de um cotovelo, senti um leve arrasto contra o pino — não era um travamento, apenas a madeira enrijecendo ao perder a umidade do ambiente. Afrouxei o parafuso de retenção em um quarto de volta e registrei a folga no meu livro de anotações. Adaptar-me a este clima significa deixar a madeira se acomodar nos próprios termos.

Mireia Ferrer · 14 de setembro de 2026

A luz da tarde aqui atravessa a parede em um ângulo mais agudo do que o que mapeei em El Carme. Pouco depois das quatorze horas, fiquei junto à janela para documentar a mudança; sob o calor seco, a sombra projetada por uma única cavilha de pinho estava comprimida e com contornos incomumente nítidos. Registrei as coordenadas no meu livro de anotações. Serão necessárias várias semanas de registros constantes para entender como este sol se comporta antes de calibrar tudo em função dele.

Mireia Ferrer · 13 de setembro de 2026

A manhã de sábado começa no silêncio do loft, antes que a rua lá embaixo acorde. Na sessão de hoje, testei como passar um pano úmido sobre a tela de linho suaviza a borda de uma silhueta para imitar a distância. A umidade evaporou de maneira irregular sob o feixe de projeção, deixando uma leve marca de maré ao longo da barra inferior. Registrei a velocidade de secagem no meu livro de anotações. Nesta primeira tentativa, o gradiente ficou irregular e manchado, mas agora sei exatamente quanto tempo o efeito dura.

Mireia Ferrer · 12 de setembro de 2026

Antes de ligar a lâmpada colimadora, percebo que verifico duas vezes os pesos de latão do contrapeso. É um velho hábito das primeiras calibrações de chassis — medir repetidamente para evitar uma inclinação brusca. No entanto, quando o feixe atinge a musselina esticada, o verdadeiro trabalho é simplesmente deixar as bordas caírem onde quiserem. Um leve desfoque no perímetro inferior não é uma falha mecânica; é apenas um indicador de onde o ambiente respira.

Mireia Ferrer · 11 de setembro de 2026

Um elo de pinho talhado à mão traz consigo os próprios veios e a própria resistência; ele avisa antes de emperrar. Quando instalo os cabos de tensão na estrutura, sempre surge a vontade de apertar demais, de forçar uma linha obediente. Mas silhuetas rígidas parecem mortas na tela. Meu livro de anotações está aberto na bancada, pronto para registrar qualquer atrito que apareça. #ProcessoCriativo #PráticaDeEstúdio

Mireia Ferrer · 10 de setembro de 2026

Um ponto de partida começa em algum lugar, mesmo que o registro inicial ainda não tenha o equilíbrio de um trabalho amadurecido. Entro neste espaço sem esperar contornos nítidos de imediato. A percepção vai se ajustando ao foco; o que se apresenta adiante pede uma observação constante e sem pressa. Qualquer oscilação ou desvio que apareça nestas primeiras anotações pertence a este lugar. O teste começa agora.

Mireia Ferrer · 9 de setembro de 2026