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Discovered! 505 125 ways to make money with your typewriter
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Moving Nature to Merchants' Windows
A CONFIRMED city dweller and a stock broker, Alan Dawson returned from the armed forces to find the bottom fallen out of his particular branch of the brokerage business, and his parents moved thirty-five miles from Toronto, Canada, to twenty-five acres of wooded land through which the Credit River runs. "I knew I had to make a living," Dawson recalls, "but how? That was the $64,000 dollar question." His sister, working in a florist shop in Toronto, mentioned that pine cones were needed for their work. Alan gathered a paper bagful and to his surprise she brought him $3 for his efforts. As a result of this incident he began to speculate in the possibilities of making a living from the fruits of nature in such abundance on all sides. His pleasant recreational walks became trips of exploration and discovery. Each day he returned with cones, bits of moss, dried weeds, and odd shaped pieces of wood. On the property was an old barn. Here he deposited his treasures, and more as a hobby than anything else began to work over them, cleaning, painting, polishing, etc. In a magazine he read of the beauty of the pampas grass growing wild in the Argentine. Sensing its potentialities in the florist business, he planted several acres in pampas grass which comes up year after year. Although it is not the luscious type found in the Argentine, but rather "a poor relative," it is attractive, when dried and colored. The crop, harvested in late August, is cut off close to the ground. It is divided into small sheaves and dried in the sun. When thoroughly dry the sheaves are placed head down in a large paper bag containing powdered paint, and are well shaken. The plumes absorb sufficient coloring to keep them bright and attractive for several months. Any type of powdered paint is satisfactory and can be obtained in as many as nine shades. Looking for prospective customers for his grass Dawson approached the large department stores in Toronto. They bought the ornamental plumes eagerly for display purposes. What was more important, they recognized in him a man who could be useful to them. Soon they were sending him such orders as, "Bring us an assortment of dried weeds. We need wild grape vines. You will find them growing around the evergreen trees. You may have to take a truck in with a chain to pull the vine out." This is exactly what he did, and by following such orders explicitly Dawson has turned what started as a pastime into a lucrative business in the display line. THE OLD barn on the Dawson property has long since become a studio. When Dawson married, one end of it was converted into a four-room apartment, so his overhead expenses are very low. The big workroom has two large doors opening on the river to provide ventilation in the summer, and in the winter is heated with an oil space heater. Two rough tables running the length of two walls provide work space. Hanging on the wall behind the tables is an array of scissors, snippers, pliers, wire, staples, etc. This room also houses his meager electrical equipment—a jig saw, table saw, sander, and spray guns. A second large unheated room at times takes on the aspect of a weird forest populated with life sized trees, denuded of leaves, some in their natural finish, others painted various colors, all to be used as background in window and aisle displays. As it would be difficult to find growing trees the sizes to meet the specifications of the display men Dawson builds the trees. Although he uses branches from alder bushes growing twenty-five to thirty feet high on his own property, the branches of any type of spreading tree are satisfactory. These bushes are decapitated and from the limbs and trunk a new tree is built to measurement. The branches are nailed together, the cracks filled with sawdust and glue, or plastic wood, and sanded to make a smooth join. The finished trees are suspended by wires from the beams for convenience in spraying with a quick drying lacquer. The completed product is wrapped in heavy brown paper before delivery by transport. THIS DISPLAY work is satisfactory in that you have specifications to follow and a substantial check waiting on completion of the job. Each season brings its flood of orders. As the big department stores spend sixty per cent of their advertising budget at Christmas, this work comprises Dawson's largest orders and is begun in the summer. "The worst part of the job," he says, "is trying to be enthusiastic over Christmas decorations with the temperature in the eighties."
During this exhibition the old barn resembles Santa Land, with its multicolored sparkling Christmas trees. Many of these are made by fastening tiny branches around conical shaped wire frames. These are sprayed first with a flat coat of paint, then with adhesive, and lastly with a snow-like substance called "flock" which comes in a variety of colors. One lifelike little tree covered in pure white flock looked as if it might have been plucked from a front lawn after a heavy snowfall. In the center of the floor was a spiral tree some five feet high. The spray had been applied most artistically to its feathery branches, starting at the base with a deep rose, fading to a pale pink as the tree spiraled. Nearby were several conical trees simply made from turkey wire sprayed with the flock and decorated with colored balls. Effective swags were made from cedar boughs. As cedar branches are very flexible it was necessary to wire them before spraying. Small branches of flock covered Scotch pine resembled pieces of coral from the floor of the sea. Dangling from the ceiling was a huge Star of David, sparkling in the pureness of its white covering. It was not difficult to picture its effectiveness in a Christmas display. Cones are in such popular demand by florists for Christmas trade that Dawson obtains them in various sizes from all over North America. They are wired, dipped or sprayed with a quick drying lacquer before delivery. When asked, "What do the stores do with all this material after they have used it once?" Dawson replied with a grin, "Throw it out, thank goodness." He explained that the paint draws the moisture from the wood, and after being in use for a few weeks it usually becomes quite brittle. The problem of storing it would be colossal and not worth the effort, so he is assured of a continual flow of orders. For this type of work, space and accessibility to raw material are requisites. The roomy old-barn makes an ideal low cost studio and apart from the cones, Dawson finds most of his material on the family property. FROM HIS earliest walks along the winding Credit River Dawson was intrigued by the gnarled, bone colored pieces of wood that had been weathered by the elements. He lugged them home and stored them under the wide floor boards of the barn in the coolness of the cellar. From these twisted roots and fallen branches he has fashioned unique driftwood lamps, wall brackets, candle holders, table ornaments and table bases. At first he experimented with painting them but it was not until he began to clean the wood thoroughly, and polish it, that the results were satisfactory. He uses a stiff brush for cleaning, followed by sandpaper and steel wool. "It must be sanded to the nth degree," he says, "and then rubbed with your bare hand, as the warmth of the hand seems to bring the natural oil from the wood." To oddly shaped wall brackets he fastens spun copper pots containing trailing ivy, which make fascinating substitutes for pictures. He sells these for $11 and they in turn retail in the department stores for $21.50. Red candles in black metal holders converted a bone colored piece into a candelabrum. A knobby old root, cleaned and polished, supplied the base for a glass topped coffee table for an ultra modern home and brought Dawson $100. His lamps take on many shapes and sizes and are completed with a driftwood finish. Retailing for $55 they net him $28. The main attraction, apart from the decorative beauty of these driftwood products, is that no two pieces are alike. A woman can be quite certain she will not see her particular choice duplicated any place in the whole world. Perhaps the easiest part of Alan Dawson's job is the selling end. Since he first approached the large Toronto department stores with his pampas grass the display men have been coming to him with orders. He feels that with a selling campaign he could increase his business, but this would mean permanent help and added responsibility. For the present he is content to remain a "one-man corporation." So with material found in his own back yard, a large share of imagination and ingenuity, and plenty of hard work Alan Dawson earns himself a good living. A sales-tax inspector, checking over the books with Dawson while he was working on a job, said, "I'll be darned if this isn't the most amazing way of making a living that I have run across." |
Note: To account for inflation, multiply prices by 8 to 10. |
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