Scratchbuilding a caricature car body
"Sometimes, the best thing to do is something."
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Introduction
Hi! I’m a new Internet Modeler writer.
I consider my scale-modeling genre to be "cool shapes and colors".
Since cars often fit that bill, I plan to submit varying auto-related
articles, from time to time.
I’m also a bit of a sci-fi guy: but lately the only sci-fi models
that have jumped out at me as “must builds” have been large,
well-researched scratchbuilds (of obscure subjects); or the occasional
fun kit-bash.
I must admit I’m a big fan of Gabriel Stern’s style of writing:
“Lite” on text; many pics; and very positive. I will try to
do something like that, from time to time ... but that will likely come
about when I burn out on mega-projects (like this one!) and badly need
a break. Even when I get really wordy (and I’m sure I will!), I’ll
try to keep the ratio of pictures to words within an interesting range.
ABOUT THIS ARTICLE
This article covers a lot of ground -- but even so, it doesn’t
show a complete project, from start to finish. The reason this article
ends with a model in primer is because I did not start with a kit, which
was ready to assemble and paint: I started with a handful of photos of
a friend’s “real life” car. From those, I built a caricature
car body, totally from scratch. Fans of the Hot Rod art of folks like
Bid Daddy Ed Roth, Stanley Mouse, John Detrich and others will no doubt
understand what I had in mind.
I’m due for a few “Lite” articles, after this monster!
So, next time, I plan to do myself a HUGE favor and simply talk about
assembling and painting one or more resin copies of this model: as if
it had come in a kit. (The body was made to work with the chassis, wheels,
etc. of existing kits; specifically, the “Snap Draggins” series
by Polar Lights.)
STEP ONE: MINDSET
My best mindset offering is this: don’t always try to do everything
perfectly, in a single step. I suggest you plan to do most things in more
than one step; and simply aim for a “B” or “C”
letter grade, at each step in the process.
Do this math with me. Ideally, you’re shooting for 100 percent:
right? (100 points out of a possible 100.) If you sit down and figure
out how to get to 75% of that end goal, in your first step, that’s
not bad initial progress.
Now figure out what’s left to obtain: in this case, it’s
25%. What’s 75% of that? It’s 18.75%. Okay, so take the 75%
we got in the first step, and add 18.75% to that. Bingo! In two relatively
easy, stress-free steps, we’re at 93.75% of our initial goal of
100%. What this means is that with two steps of “C” work,
you can do “A” work. That seems counter-intuitive at first,
but it makes sense. We’re just changing the rules a bit: instead
of being boxed in by the idea that all “tests” are done in
such a way that you only have one chance to get things right, we’re
giving ourselves a few more tries. This isn’t a vague hope that
magic will work: it’s a way to make progress, faster than one might
think.
The main prerequisite is a willingness to be imperfect.
I feel the main difference between a beginner and an intimidating expert
is whether or not the person is doing their early stumbling and learning
in private, or not. (The “or not” way is much more informative
to article readers!)
If you don’t mind falling down a few times on your journey, you
can make excellent progress. But if you fear that first scraped knee or
whatever, you’ll stay right where you are. (And hey: if you’re
comfortable there, that’s okay too!)
Credit where due: the core idea behind this thinking was something I
picked up from small business magazines in the late 1990’s. They
called it the “80 / 20 Rule”. I’ve also seen the idea
in different forms, in various other places.
As you'll soon see, I knew where I wanted to go -- but not necessarily
how I would get there, exactly. (Hence the subtitle, above.) I'm not going
to hide that fact, or act like I knew what I was doing. Often, I didn’t.
I did have a pretty good background of helpful stuff, but a lot of my
work on this model was educated guesswork and persistence, and the stubborn
insistence that I would figure it out.
However, balance is an excellent thing to strive for, too! One of the
things I consciously learned, from the last four months of concentrated
work on this project, was to “let go” when necessary. (Like
submitting a primered model!)
I think I’m going to have to try to stay inside my comfort zone,
more often. Not give up on stretching my abilities; just do more “Lite”
projects, that don’t require much more than sitting down and doing
some fun, familiar tasks. (One mega-project to three or four easy ones,
maybe?)
STEP TWO: INSPIRATION
First, I had to be inspired to do this particular project. A few factors
contributed to that. I was ready to extend the knowledge I’d gained
from several big projects. I had just purchased the two “Amazing
Vehicular Modeler” magazine specials that the folks from “Amazing
Figure Modeler” magazine had put out, back in 2004 and 2006.
I was hugely inspired by what I saw in those pages -- the fun and creativity
displayed. I had to do something like that! The final straw was a friend’s
birthday. (Which came and went, six weeks ago. Oops! Sorry, Will!)
STEP THREE: DONOR PARTS
While I didn't mind making a body from scratch, I didn't want to have
to make every little part on this model.
The Snap Draggins series are a popular way to obtain cool-looking, pre-made
‘toon (cartoon) wheels and tires; plus other “accessories”
a person may want, when kit-bashing cartoon cars. The important thing
here is perceived scale: if you're going to use kit parts, that locks
you into a certain size range. I didn't mind that: I welcomed having a
model more or less in scale with the other Snap Draggins kits. (Formerly
Drag Toons resin kits; before Polar Lights made an agreement with The
Good Stuff to translate the six models in the series into injected plastic
form.)
The car I used as my donor was the “Manglia” -- but that’s
mainly due to it not running away fast enough. (Actually, because I had
cut up the body for another project.) Any of the five other cars would
have also been a good choice: a lot of the parts are either identical
or very similar, so use any kit you can cheaply / easily obtain. As with
any kit-bash effort, all six cars will require some adaptation to work
with your particular project. The notable areas are likely to be the wheelbase
(front-to-back measurement, at the wheel centerline); maybe tire spacing
(side to side); possibly the “wheelie” angle; etc. But there’s
plenty to like about these kits -- either box stock, or as donors.
STEP FOUR: PHOTOS (REFERENCE MATERIALS)
Over the last few years, I have become comfortable with "orthographic
projections" -- blueprints, in short. I had recently gained experience
with converting 2D data into both 2D and 3D form. Based on that mindset,
I made this theoretical observation: the main thing you have to get right,
to make a car model look like the real thing, are the outlines and proportions
of the profile (side) view.
The rest matters too, of course: but not as much. I based this on the
perhaps "pushing it" idea that from all other views, just about
every car is a modified rectangle. From all other views, you’re
essentially starting with a pure block (of a certain set of proportions).
You’re then “just” cutting or sanding off a bit: usually
around the corners.
This is where that “80 / 20 Rule” comes into play, in this
project. I figured I had a starting point, by focusing on the profile
view first; and then “cutting off” portions of the other views,
little by little. As you’ll see in the pictures, the form became
a very blocky version of what I wanted: a silhouette that mostly worked,
when seen from a straight-on view; but that wasn’t satisfying otherwise.
At that point, I figured I could start to sort of blend or round off
any edges where the various straight-on views would meet, in a blocky
fashion. And that worked out well.
Side notes: That's the official reason. It’s true, but it’s
not the whole story. When I visited my friend at his home (200 miles away)
I had run out of "digital film" for my trusty (borrowed: thanks,
Clarinsky!) Fuji FinePix 2600Z digital camera. (A mere 2.0 megapixels!
Ha! And wait till you find out I'm dumping the raw images onto a 500mhz
e-Machines PC that was designed for, and still runs on, “Windows
98”. And I crop and adjust things with Paint Shop Pro 5 -- a program
that's about as old as the PC I use.)
Bottomline: thanks to other vacation pics I would have been in big-time
trouble for “erasing,” I had just enough memory to get shots
of the real car's sides; the front; and the back. And that would have
to do, as far as my early references went.
I’ll say this: there’s no way in heck I would have thought
that four (three, really) views would have been enough, had I not stubbornly
stumbled through my three-foot-long “Dark Star” scratchbuilding
project, one tiny step at a time. It was on that project that I learned
to “blend” the views. A lot of things (contours) that drove
me batty, trying to figure out in a 2D form, made perfect sense when I
went as far as I could with a 3D model using straight-on views; and then,
when I could go no further that way, learned to “just wing it”
with a belt or hand sander, on transitions.
I found that doing so matched perfectly with references; the reason
being, you faced problems the original builder also faced; and with a
bit of luck, you did what they did.
The funny thing is: this sort of stuff used to be commonly known, and
no big deal. The early Egyptians used similar techniques to build huge
statues. Boy Scouts were expected to earn Merit Badges by using those
concepts to whittle wood projects. How soon a computerized society forgets!?
STEP FIVE: INTENTIONAL DISTORTIONS
At this point I was still working in 2D mode: I was thinking ahead to
3D, but wasn’t to that point yet.
My next big step was to decide how much I should distort the outlines
and proportions of the real-life Cadillac STS vehicle; and where; and
how. At project’s end, it had to be recognizable to viewers as an
STS; while being a cartoon; and also being in scale with the kit parts
I’d be using.
It took much thought, but I finally worked out the best way for me to
leave most of the 2D “real thing” images alone, while distorting
only the areas I wanted to. The answer?
“Silly Putty"!
Sometimes, the best ideas are the silliest. Err, simplest.
A pro (and friend and mentor) whom I showed the process to dubbed it
"ancient morph technology". That’s what it is -- a cheap,
no-computer-necessary way to alter 2D drawings.
My initial hope was that the material would pick up all of the inkjet
ink on a printout. No such luck. Nothing at all transferred over to the
Silly Putty. A bit of playing with it fixed that: I just had to trace
the outlines first, with a mechanical pencil. The graphite does transfer
over.
Study the pictures: there’s a lot of good info there.
To supplement that (and refresh my own memory later!) I’ll hit
some nifty, helpful highlights about what I learned.
Because I was going to use kit parts, I was locked into a certain final
size. This did not mean I had to work in 1:1 “final model”
scale, however. It just meant I had to keep track of whatever ratios I
was printing test prints at, as I went. (Writing it down on each test
print worked fine.) In this way, I could work at two or three times the
size of the model, while I was tracing things. That helped a lot, in terms
of following each line’s subtle curves, well.
Eliminate distracting backgrounds by cutting your printout with high
quality, precise scissors. (Medical surgery type; or decal, or whatever.)
Because the model would have mis-proportioned cartoon wheels, I cut the
real ones off.
Tracing subtle lighting differences is hard. Trace things like door
edges or “character lines,” directly onto the photo, using
a high-contrast pen which won’t smear later.
Once you have a 2D line drawing traced onto tracing paper, you can re-trace
that in (small diameter) pencil; and then place some rolled-out / flattened
Silly Putty on top of that drawing; and apply gentle pressure to “copy”
it.
Wax paper is a good thing to have handy. I used it on the bottom of
the Silly Putty, when rolling it flat; and also on the top, after “picking
up” the pencil’s graphite. I didn’t want it to stick
to the bed of my PC’s scanner, when I plopped it down there, to
scan in a print-able version.
Experiment with stretching Silly Putty, to get a good idea of how quickly
/ smoothly it stretches. You may mess up a time or six (as I did) enroute
to getting a firm handle on how to “pull” only selected areas.
My early attempts all had way too much unintended distortion.
If you study the pictures, the rectangle will show areas that were stretched;
and there are little marks or indents in various places, indicating areas
I had to "push back". (I added the rectangle via computer, after
scanning in the 2D tracing; but it could easily be added by hand.)
Once I had calibrated my wrists and fingers properly, via practice,
and learned the rectangle trick, the intentional stretching worked out
pretty well. However, I did make a number of small corrections (or “I
changed my mind”) as I went. To do this, I used a small screwdriver’s
tip, to “push” small local areas back, here or there.
The end goal of all this is to end up with a 2D drawing that you can
reduce or enlarge in some way. I used a PC and a scanner and an inkjet
printer. Another way would be to go to some place that offers photocopying
services for a fee.
STEP SIX: MATCHING PLANNED PARTS TO KIT PARTS
As noted before, I planned to use kit parts for everything but the car’s
body. That means my planned 3D body, when it was actually made, had to
be sized to match the kit parts.
The easy way to work out that problem, in the 2D stages of things, is
just to take one transparency film (that has a 1:1 tracing of the kit
wheels, chassis, or whatever parts you will be using) and to lay it over
a paper printout of the body style you will be using.
If things don’t match up, you’ll quickly see it. Reduce
or enlarge the printout of the car body (since that’s the part that
doesn’t exist yet; and is therefore the one most subject to change).
Then try again. Eventually, the two 2D drawings will match up. When they
do, line them up well and tape them together; then re-copy this new, combined
image.
STEP SEVEN: UNINTENTIONAL DISTORTIONS
I made a happy boo-boo (mistake) during one or more of the resizing
steps, of my “final” combined 2D drawings.
Basically, I wasn't paying enough attention. I told my PC to print out
the test images at a certain size. But I did not check the “print
preview” first, before I printed. As it turns out, an unintentional
distortion was added. This was an attempt to be “user friendly,”
on the PC’s part: and it did turn out that way, because I liked
one of the new images better than what I’d come up with. (Implying
there were several different PC-distorted versions. Yup!)
The mistake was this: I was working in 2D at a larger scale than the
real 3D model. (Probably 1.33 to 1, on up to 2:1.)
Even the first printouts were close to being the full size of the sheet
of paper. For the record, I was leaving the data (scanned image) that
represented the picture totally alone: that, I was not changing in any
way. But each new printout got printed at a different size.
At some point, I wasn’t paying enough attention, and I told the
PC to print out an image that would have gone “off the page”.
The PC basically said “Stupid human!” and helped me out by
shrinking part of the image, to fit onto the page. (This is a program-by-program
thing: not a universal PC trait.) Note that I said “part of the
image”. What I mean is, the PC had plenty of room (for example)
from top to bottom; but from side to side, part of the image would not
fit well. So, in this example, it would have shrunk the image from side-to-side;
while leaving the top-to-bottom alone. (You can also do this on purpose,
in some of the more powerful painting programs. Look for the “aspect
ratio” numbers, within your program’s print menus.)
I really had no excuse for not noticing this, right away. My artistic
training should have “calibrated my eyes” better than that.
But I was in a hurry, and it happened. And once I had choices in front
of me, I was glad it did.
I found I liked the altered looks seen in certain of the printouts --
the new aspect ratio -- better than the way I had originally "drawn"
things. To use that as the new way from then on, I scanned the coolest-looking
printout in, and saved that data. I made all new printouts from that.
STEP EIGHT: STEPS WE’LL PRETEND DIDN’T HAPPEN
Initial attempts to make a 3d car body were -- how to put it -- “less
than successful”. (They sucked.) Not so much on an absolute basis;
more on a “thinking ahead” basis.
What I mean is, I planned to make more cartoon models of other real
life vehicles. That being the case, I wanted to get into good, effective,
efficient habits as early as I could. And I could see those two early
methods were going to cause so many needless steps in the later stages
of the game (to keep me in my comfort zone, earlier on), that I gave up
on them within a week or so. And then floundered, looking for some better
method to replace them with. (I described all of that in the first draft
of this text. I later killed two pages of that, for reasons of length.)
Short story is: I tried to make a body out of MDF “wood”
(which I think of as “Poor Man’s Renshape”). I made
hard molds of that, using auto body fillers. I planned to make filler
castings from those, for use as intermediate masters ... but it quickly
became way too inefficient to pursue.
You’ll see the initial attempts at this, in the photos. Of note:
the hard molds I made (after waxing the MDF “wood” body up,
so nothing would stick to it) are made of “Glaze Coat” as
a surface layer; and thicker Bondo brand filler as a backing layer. Also:
the rounded edges of the MDF body happened after I made the upper mold
piece and the two hard side molds. (I think I figured I’d get some
“edge blending” practice in, using the now-useless rough MDF
master.)
STEP NINE: PROFILE TEMPLATE
My third attempt at coming up with an efficient methodology for building
future, cartoon-ized auto bodies was much more successful. Simply put:
I traced my final “1:1 model size” printout onto a scrap of
Lexan sheet, and I cut it out. A handheld household-type jig saw, initially;
then cleaned the edges up on a one-inch Dremel brand #1630 belt sander.
The blue blob on back of the Lexan is dyed baking soda. I have a whole
article I'll do on that subject; but the short story is, baking soda has
lots of water molecules in or on it; and water molecules "set"
or harden my favorite (water-thin) type of super glue, in seconds. It's
an old trick. What's new about it is that I've dyed the baking soda, before
use, using inkjet refill ink. By doing that, I can easily see if I have
over- or under-glued; and I can see when I'm about to over-sand, as well.
(It normally hardens in a clear state: which has major limitations. The
dye removes the limitations: making it nearly akin to magic!)
Some of you may have seen a brief version of that idea: it ran as “Colored
Filler” in the Oct 2007 issue of Kalmbach’s “Scale Auto”
magazine, as their “Tip of the Month”.
STEP TEN: “BONDO” MOLDS AND CASTINGS
I used Lexan for my template because it comes in flat, 2D sheets of
a consistent thickness. This meant I could cut out one side/profile piece;
wax it well; then make a Bondo mold of the outline of that piece. (Making
a 2D negative or "hole," using a positive 2D form.) Then I'd
make two flat, identical Bondo castings, inside that Bondo mold. (Making
a positive form, within a negative / "hole".) This would fix
the symmetry problems I had earlier, between the two sides. (Which I described
more fully in the two pages I killed.)
For the record: the term “Bondo mold” is generically used
by professional scale modelers; and has been, forever. It isn’t
really correct. It’s more of a shorthand term, used to describe
hard molds made using two-part, catalyzed auto body fillers. The word
“Bondo” is actually the name of the company that makes one
of the most common of those fillers.
One related problem is that some kit builders call the red, air-dry
putty made by Bondo, “Bondo”; and others call their pinkish-grey,
two-part filler “Bondo”. You have to read articles by either
folks very carefully, to figure out by context which of those two they
are really talking about. (And guys like me complicate it further, by
referring to competing company’s products as being “Bondo-like”.)
I do use real “Bondo” brand fillers, from time to time –
mostly on my larger projects. On this project, I used the Evercoat company’s
“Glaze Coat” product, exclusively.
Almost exclusively: all the way up to the very last stages. I then used
the lacquer-based “Nitro-Stan 9001” touch-up putty for pinholes
or minor details. (You can mail order it through Coast
Airbrush in Anaheim, California.)
I stopped using hobby putties nearly ten years ago. I don’t plan
to ever go back. Most air dry putties aren’t worth a spit, in my
humble opinion, once you climb the required learning curve on using two-part,
catalyzed materials; and become comfortable with their “habits”.
I regret that space limits won’t let me go as ballistic as I could,
in talking about “icing”. See the pics for two great products
I enthusiastically recommend for any sort of detailed filling or contouring
work. Both are by Evercoat. (My local CarQuest store special-orders Evercoat’s
line.)
The “Butcher’s Bowling Alley Wax” is a fantastic product,
but it isn’t by Evercoat. (I got mine through eBay.) It’s
the only wax I’ve tried that will keep Bondo-like goop from sticking
to even a porous MDF surface. One layer of this stuff is usually enough;
several layers of common car waxes may still not work. (It also cleans
off of surfaces without much hassle -- a major consideration for glue
or paint.)
A big thanks to David Merriman for turning me on to most of those very
cool, very superior products. (Pass it on!)
Quick notes on using Bondo-like, two-part products:
These products cure in four stages: like peanut butter (before mixing,
and soon after); same idea but starting to lose its aggressive tackiness;
a hard wax (that temporarily loses some of its adhesive powers to other
materials -- so go easy on harshly shaping it!); and finally, rock hard.
Most of this happens in mere minutes!
If you know there are “stages” and what they are, then it’s
fantastic stuff that works like magic. (If you don’t know about
that, it may seem like some sort of not-good magic!)
To mix them: mix about 1 part cream hardener to 16 parts of the stuff
from the can or squeeze bottle. Stir until it’s all a consistent
color. I use an old phone book as a cheap mixing palette, and craft (Popsicle)
sticks as mixers. In a case where super-tiny amounts are involved -- like
filling small seams on a kit -- a toothpick is a fine mixing tool. (What
constitutes a big or small amount may be relative!)
Cream hardeners come in different colors. Red is the most common; blue
is harder to find; and good luck on finding the white! (It’s an
“Experts Only” thing.) Why different colors? So you can tell
where each layer starts and ends, as you apply more of it. Note that Glaze
Coat, which starts out as a yellowish color before mixing, becomes green
when mixed with the blue hardener. It turns a reddish-yellow with the
red. (The white hardener doesn’t change the color of the filler.
You get no visual clue as to when it is mixed well.) Mix red and blue,
if you need another color.
STEP ELEVEN: SCREEDING
I used the “dyed baking soda and super glue” trick to lightly
tack-glue the profile-shaped side-piece castings to a sturdy sheet of
ordinary styrene plastic. The idea was to secure them, temporarily --
aligned well to one another -- and then to somehow add a shaped, solid
roof between them.
Enter a process called “screeding”.
David D. Merriman III is one of my all-time favorite scale modelers.
For those who don’t know of him, he’s a pro who mostly builds
R/C submarines and sci-fi vehicle models. He wrote an excellent, very
highly recommended article about the “screeding” technique
in the Feb 2002 issue of “Fine
Scale Modeler” magazine. (Many FSM back issues are still easily
available, through Kalmbach’s web site.)
It’s a technique David has taken to artistic heights; as you’ll
see in the many awesome “how to’s” on his site
Screeding, in its simplest form, entails dragging a flat device (like
a wooden 2-by-4) across the top of two guiding walls: with the object
of smoothing out something that has been roughly applied, between them.
One example: spreading out and leveling wet concrete that was dumped into
a crude wooden form in the shape of a section of a sidewalk.
That’s basically what I was doing. Picture fresh blobs of just-mixed,
very thin-consistency, high-grade auto body “finishing and blending
putty” being slopped on, over the clay and between the two “Bondo
castings” I’d made of the sides of the car. (They generically
call that stuff icing, by the way. Once you’ve used it, you’ll
know why: it’s that smooth and fine!) Add a metal ruler, covered
in masking tape to make clean up easier, and you have the picture.
Part of the reason this all worked is that all Bondo-like products stick
like crazy. They’d have to, to stick to the sides of a real automobile,
despite all the abuse that the real things go through! (Dings in parking
lots; people leaning on body panels; heat expansion; severe winters…)
If it will stick to a real car’s bodywork, it will stick to itself.
I often use that principle to good advantage. (On my big MDF models, I
use Bondo’s filler like fast-acting glue, to laminate “Bread
and Butter” MDF slices together.)
Study the pictures, closely. Notice I have clay built up to a certain
point, between the walls. (And I went farther with it, later.) This is
partly to make a positive form; which would result in a negative (hollow)
space under the roof, when I was done. That in turn was done to conserve
on the Glaze Coat material; and so I could test-fit the body over the
kit’s chassis and wheel parts, at intervals.
I had originally drilled holes as alignment guides, but the idea was
abandoned and replaced with a simple X-acto right triangle, to keep the
two sides vertical and parallel.
Note the datum line I drew on the sheet plastic, near one corner of
the wheelwells. That also helped align things.
From other pics, note that I did my screeding in stages. I did only
the upper surfaces, first. Other areas were too hard to reach, while the
side “walls” were still tacked to the plastic “floor”
piece. I waited for the newly one-piece body to harden enough; then broke
the tack-glued bonds that lightly held the sides on the sheet plastic.
I then removed all of the clay, and washed the body parts off with soap
and water, as best I could. (To make sure adhesion wasn’t compromised
later). I re-applied more clay, in certain areas; then screeded on the
front and back bumper areas.
STEP TWELVE: CONTOURING WORK
At this point I had a hollow, blocky-looking thing that needed to be
less blocky. From hereon in, what I did was more or less a form of whittling.
Eyeball things; find a high spot; sand it off. (And there’s no reason
your model can’t be made of something like Balsa wood, if you prefer.)
As I said before, this cartoon car body was made entirely from Evercoat’s
Glaze Coat. Why is that? Whenever you have layers of different materials,
they will all sand and cut differently. You may end up sanding down one
layer faster than another, accidentally. By using a single substrate material,
I eliminated many problems.
As previously described, the model-to-be was in silhouette form only,
at this point. It's almost as if I had glued 2D drawings (orthographic
projections) onto the sides of a solid block, and then cut away all that
I would obviously not need, from each of the views. (Well, mostly from
the side view, at this point: not from the other views yet.)
Ninety percent of the rough cutting, as it were, was done with sanding
sticks. I don’t buy mine at hobby shops or by mail order. Whenever
I’m in Pueblo, Colorado -- the next big town beyond this gorgeous
but very remote area, which has many stores -- I go visit Sally Beauty
supply, and stock up. They know me by heart now, and are friendly as can
be. Their prices and selection are fantastic.
Two exceptions, on what I used to sand stuff down: for the initial rough
cut on the window areas, I cheated and used a one-inch-wide sanding belt,
on a Dremel brand belt sander. Towards the end, when I was doing fine
detailing work, I made my own little custom sanding tools. (Something
new-to-me, that I’m happy to have added to my bag of tricks!)
Side note -- the universe feels sorry for me:
After I had the sides, rear and front silhouettes worked out to my satisfaction,
then it was a matter of trying to figure out what the "edge blends"
were, on the real thing.
I hit many “scary new territory” panic points, on this project.
This was one of them. Yes, it is a cartoon car ... but I’m a guy
who wants even his cartoons to be based on the real thing; so they’ll
be recognizable. And early on, I had no way to see what the 3D contours
of the real thing were, without driving 400 miles round-trip to go see
my buddy’s car in person. “Sometimes, the best thing to do
is something”. In part what I meant by that is that it’s often
necessary to do something, right now (even if it’s wrong), so you
can better visualize what the next steps must be.
Just about the time I was worrying that I was going to hit a “need
more information” brick wall, something incredibly cool happened,
out of the blue: a friend of a friend came by to visit. And she drove
a car that was very similar to my friend’s car: only four model
years of difference between them. I got a quick okay from her (thanks,
Lila!) and ran outside with my camera. I even had enough time, after taking
sixty-some pics to add to my very thin stack of early references, to take
the model itself outside and to sand it down by eye, to match the hard-to-figure
areas.
A major tip -- one which would not have occurred to me if I hadn’t
hit that “you can’t go any farther now, with the references
you have” wall: doors and trunk lids have edges that describe, almost
perfectly, the cross section of the vehicle. Shoot edge-on pics of any
part of a vehicle that will open! You’ll be glad you did, during
contouring work.
STEP THIRTEEN: TEXTURES AND DETAILING
Next up: things like panel lines, wheel arches, recessed side window
areas, etc. Short story is: I ain’t done yet.
I got lazy and eye-balled most of that. Some of it worked out fine;
other areas, not so good. Much of it has to be massively reworked, straightened,
or just plain corrected.
And it’s Deadline Time. So ... all that will have to wait!
Part of the reason I’m not done yet, is that contouring is a matter
of getting large-ish areas worked out, roughly. You hit diminishing returns
when you get to this stage: it takes far longer to detail any given square
inch, properly.
Tools were one problem. While big sanding sticks worked like a charm
for contouring, they aren’t adequate to this reduced-size task.
About a week ago I experimented with a tip I saw in the Sep. 1998 issue
of Internet
Modeler by Art Anderson. My version of it is to use gap-filling (green
bottle) Zap CA glue, along with “Cheez-It” cracker box cardboard
and a rescued, good portion of an otherwise worn-out sanding stick. (I
have dozens of those!) Why am I excited about it? Try it yourself, and
you’ll quickly see!
STEP FOURTEEN: MOLDING AND CASTING
All along, it was my plan to make a mold of this body and to cast up
at least a few copies of it. Not to sell: just to have a few extra copies
of it for friends and myself. (And I’d scream if the one-and-only
got lost in the mails!) I need more time to experiment with all of my
current work on “mother and glove” molds; and “slush
casting”. For now, I’ll refer you to some of the places I
learned about that:
A wealth of great “mother-and-glove mold” info can be had
in Merriman’s (somewhat infamous) “Dove”
scratchbuilding article (more like book) series.
You can also find hours of truly excellent info on DVD’s #5 and
#7 of the CultTVman “Fantastic
Modeling” series:
A pro by the name of E. James Small wrote two interesting articles that
involve casting info. See either the Nov 2002 issue of Fine Scale Modeler
(for his “Seeker” article) or his article in the #57 issue
of Modeler’s Resource. (No longer available through MR’s web
site: sorry!) The FSM article includes the best “slush casting”
explanation I’ve run across; plus good tips on transparent castings.
CONCLUSION
I’m somewhat disappointed in myself, that I didn’t get this
whole project wrapped up in time for this month’s deadline. I’m
probably being too hard on myself, however. To get this much done (and
written up!) in only four months, with multiple other hobby projects going
on ... not too shabby!?
I’ll end with this: “Outlines and proportions; contours;
texture; final paint”. That’s my five-part theory of what
any model building project amounts to. I did the first three-and-a-half
of those, already. I just have to work on the final body detailing work;
fine-tune things like the tire inserts I’m working on; assemble,
and paint it. So, most of the hard work is over with. I do want to take
my time on the casting process, and the paint jobs; so I will probably
skip next month’s issue, and finish this project off, after that.
Next month: dyed baking soda tricks!
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