A Migratory Woodstove

Much like the Canadian goose, gray whale, or Arctic tern, woodstoves are migratory objects. You wouldn't think they would be given their character - heavy cumbersome iron, stinking of soot, dedicated to ruining your clothing and your back. But, they are.

My woodstove alone has moved four times that I know of and have instigated. That's three times too many, but such is life.

I moved it twice again just yesterday. You see, though I love a woodstove, I can't justify it in the studio. It takes up a lot of space and requires a lot of effort to maintain it, in a space where every inch counts. I really only use it sporadically in April and October, so its not overworked. It had to go.

May I digress slightly? I had this idea of moving the woodstove after a long day of fussing with it trying to keep it going. I was smoked out and sick of it. Lying in bed, I had an epiphony: What if I got rid of the woodstove and put in a shower instead?

Boom! My mind exploded, and I stayed up thinking and designing. Why is it great ideas hit at inconvenient times?

The next day, I hauled that stove out to the mudroom and filled in the holes where it had been. I was ready to move on.

But the stove still needed a plan. What to do with it? I realized I could set it up in the mudroom greenhouse! It would be perfect. I could still enjoy it, but it wouldn't take up space inside. Not only that, it would give the mudroom character and still allow me to watch the flames and cook soups on those cold rainy or snowy days where I still wanted to be outside.

Perfect.

I set to work. I dug down into the gravel, leveling a spot where it would sit. I filled in around it and began my rock stack protecting the adjacent wall from heat and creating a wind block and art piece at the same time.

I love it when art meets practical design and use.