It all started with an idea
“Hey, you should build a giant wooden demon for the front yard. That’ll be fun.”
And that’s how the Odd Pegs Oddities were born. Just a weird idea on a random day in October 2018. The first devil sculpture was a bit of a hack job – banged out in a weekend, the head was plywood, the horns were hastily made with an absolutely garbage grade jigsaw, the body was just some framing lumber covered by a cheap, red plastic tablecloth, and nothing was really proportionate. It looked more like a deformed robot kangaroo than a denizen of hell and it lasted about two years before the head rotted like an old pumpkin.
But despite all the flaws, something was there.
At the urging of the kids, I rebuilt the devil. I had so much fun I immediately pivoted to Cindi the Ogre. After those two the question was “What next?” Turns out the answer was whatever I could think up. Strange hobby to have, but I enjoy myself.
“A nothic is a monstrous creature with terrible talons and a single great eye. When driven to violence, it uses its horrific gaze to rot the flesh from its enemies' bones.” (Source: D&D Beyond)
This was my second commissioned piece. The original concept was to be a jackalope (rabbit with antlers, more or less) but the client was adamant that I build something weird and monstrous. So with chance inspiration from one of my daughter’s drawings and the trusty Monster Manual, the American Nothic was born. I really love the head on this guy. The giant singular eyeball and the maniacal expression turned out well.
American Nothic (2021)
Cindi the Ogre (2019, 2023)
I was on a creative roll after building the Devil of Lebanon Street. Also, I had leftover lumber. So my son and I designed an ogre named Cindi (as insisted by my daughter).
Cindi guarded the driveway up until August 2023, when I noticed the hands - tenuously connected by pocket holes of dubious depth - were falling off. So down to the shop they went, but instead of a quick repair similar to The Devil of Lebanon Street my son convinced me the arms and legs needed to be redone. I’ll be honest - it didn’t take much. While I liked Cindi’s head and overall vibe, the limbs were decidedly of the “Eh, this is good enough” variety. And it always bothered me that the initial plan for Cindi was to hold an axe in both hands.
First thing to be rebuilt was the axe. I should have known then that I was going to go overboard with this “quick” fixer-upper, but I was somewhere between determined and obsessed (ask me how much time I spent on its butt). Getting both arms properly positioned so the axe would fit was a lot more difficult than I expected. The angle grinder got plenty of use adding contours to the shoulders, arms, legs (check out those cyclist calves!), gut, and aforementioned posterior. I probably could’ve continued to futz with the design, but I also knew it was time to step away. Also, it’s getting cold out.
What remains of the original version is the head and most of the torso. And what I’ve managed to do is bridge the original style with the skills developed over the past couple of years.
Cindi v2 (2023)
Cindi v1 (2019)
A commission that was planned in 2020 but not started until 2022 - life and that pandemic got in the way. I started in mid-August, shortly after the Pan-Mass Challenge, and wrapped it up in early November. I fell into a pattern of doing a lot of work on Saturday and then redoing it on Sunday. Really forced myself to make sure the legs and arms were as good as the head. I’m pleased with the results (especially the tongue and nose) and the clients are too. I turned a page with this one.
Demon Bear (2022)
This is where it all started, and where it all started to become an actual thing. The original devil was a hastily built plywood head and a makeshift body. It lasted about two years before the head started collapsing in on itself and I was tasked with rebuilding it. At first I was going to make a cube out of 2x4s and then cut it into a head-like shape with the Sawzall (didn’t trust myself with the chainsaw; also I think it was broken by then). That turned out to be an impossibility - Sawzalls are not meant for that sort of work. It was a happy accident - without that failure I wouldn’t have developed my style.
Devil of Lebanon Street (2019)
Original, terrible version.
2022 Updates
My first commission and it was done pretty much as a dare. There was a call for public art in Melrose, MA and my wife suggested I throw my name in the hat. “Fine,” I said. “I’ll build a dragon.” I filled out the online form, came up with what I thought was a ridiculous quote (turns out it wasn’t), and hit “submit.” To my shock, they called my bluff. So I built a dragon. Went through a couple of iterations of the head - it’s the most important part and if you don’t get it right, nothing else will work - and struggled with the body until I saw a coffin and realized that was the exact shape I needed. It’s a hell of a thing when people not only like your work but actually want to give you money for it.
Dragon of Ell Pond (2020)
The first project of the pandemic. This was the piece where I realized I needed a better miter saw. This was also the piece where I realized if I was going to make ears, I wouldn’t be able to make a helmet. This is the most ordinary of the sculptures - human is as human does - but I like it. I’m a big fan of the Clone Wars series, and I think I captured the look and feel of those characters with this guy. And hey, beard texture!
The Knight (2020)
“Want a project that doesn’t pay enough with a crazy fast turnaround time?”
“It could work.”
It’s tradition that the graduating fifth grade classes of the five elementary schools in Melrose present their schools with a gift (for my two kids, it was a little free library and a bench dedicated to a teacher who had passed away unexpectedly). Horace Mann, home of the Huskies, had an idea to buy a sculpture and my friend Kris had an even better idea to have a local artist make it.
Spoiler alert: it didn’t pay enough (even though 95% of the lumber was salvaged from various dumpsters) and it was a crazy fast turnaround time, but neither of these things bothered me. Here’s why:
First, this was the first 100% realistic animal I’ve made. I couldn’t fake anything with horns or wings or a spiked tail. It had to look like a husky. I learned a ton making the Demon Bear but I learned even more making this. The nose was part of the snout, not a separate piece. The ears had actual definition. The legs were a huge undertaking, with four to five pieces of lumber per limb followed by a wish and a prayer on the bandsaw. The visible screw holes were plugged (okay, fine, I couldn’t be bothered with the undercarriage). Compare how the body flows on this versus the Dragon of Ell Pond and you can see a marked improvement, or at least a better understanding of animal anatomy. When I realized that the back was just a little too flat, out came the angle grinder and kapow! - the hindquarters had contours. I could go on and on, but you get the picture. And if you don’t, there are images below.
Second - and more importantly - public schools are criminally underfunded. They can’t afford nice things because we won’t let them afford nice things. So yeah, the Horace Mann elementary school may have gotten a sizable discount, but this was worth every second of my time.
