Cobble that build!
Making with random objects
Cobble means to repair or make. A shoe cobbler comes to mind, as does cobblestone street. The root of the word is obscure but likely originated first with cobblestones and later referenced any repair job - often meaning a hack job done in haste. But today, it's used when we toss random objects or ideas into creating something new. It doesn't have to be sloppy or unplanned to be cobbled. Instead, a cobbled project can be a great way to create with things at hand.
Cobbling, as a way of making, can be gratifying and fun. And unlike other forms of creating that require special tools or elaborate techniques, cobbling takes whatever objects you want to use, maybe a little glue or tape, and - the essential part - imagination.
When I was a kid, cobbling was king. It's how I made almost anything. The reason was simple - found objects were plentiful while my skills and tool access were limited. I had no business running a table saw or lathe at the age of five or six, so if I wanted to make something a specific size or shape, I had to find something that would serve the purpose. This meant letting the object dictate what I built, not the other way around. And that's just fine as a kid.
I see it today in my son. I'll have a random cap, a tube, or some leftover widget, and his eyes light up at seeing it. Often he'll ask, "do you need that?" And invariably, I hand it over. Whatever he sees sparks an immediate desire to make something. And not long after, he'll emerge from his maker space with a newly created cobbled design.
For me, more often than not, I work to create entirely new designs. It's one of the joys of mastering skills and acquiring specialized tools. Taking raw materials and machining or fabricating these into precisely what I imagined - that's a powerful feeling. But now and again, I still cobble. And I maintain drawers and boxes full of random stuff for just the occasion.
Cobbling is not only a way to make on the fly; it's also a standard operating procedure in film.
Like many, my son and I are both into Star Wars - we like the stories, but we love all the props, costumes, and sets that go into it. While many Star Wars designs are entirely from scratch, they often use cobbled objects to create the final build, at least with tangible props.
Random things like checkers, other game pieces, scale model kits (a.k.a., kitbashing) and other real-world objects can be identified in close-up pics of spacecraft and miniature sets. This is standard practice in Hollywood maker magic, and fans and enthusiasts spend countless hours identifying components and collecting them to recreate builds down to the minute detail.
Last week, I half-cobbled a build. But it wasn’t a recreation of a movie prop. Rather, it was a toy inspired by a movie prop.
I wanted to embed some LED lights in molded plastic to see how it would work. This wasn't the end-all build; it was more an experiment to see how materials and components would work together and to test the process for future builds. But I did want to have an outcome - a finished product. So I decided it was an excellent opportunity to make a mini lightsaber.
I used a mold from one of my previous contracts to do so. It was shaped like a long narrow cylinder and would make an excellent lightsaber (my son pointed this out as I created the original project). So I gave it a go.
The molding process worked well, and the strip LEDs functioned perfectly inside the plastic. But the lightsaber was not complete. It needed a handle.
If this were a purpose-built project, I'd probably go through the trouble of crafting a custom handle. But as I mentioned, this was mostly an experiment, and I didn't want to invest too much time or resources into finishing it. But I wanted it to be functional and fun, so I searched my random stashed materials to see what might work.
I ended up using a length of steel tube I had saved (a small diameter curtain rod), coupled with a random assortment of rubber grommets and plugs. The wiring was simple, and I had everything I needed, including a small push-button switch that I'd salvaged earlier.
To power the device, I used an A23 12 V battery that's about the diameter of a AAA but only half as long. I also had a battery holder for this specialized little power source, which conveniently fit inside the steel tube.
After a bit of soldering, cutting, drilling, and final assembly, the mini lightsaber was ready. And it only took an afternoon.
I must say, it looks and feels pretty cool. Well, it actually looks like a mini shop light, but still - I think it’s cool. And so does my son.
The device has a nice heft to it, and with the protruding wires and cobbled design, it seems like something that might be used in Star Wars. Although it's less a lightsaber and more a "lightdagger" (Disney/LFL - you heard it here first).
Imagine a roguish hero brandishing one he had stashed in his boot (or some such galactic plot twist).
This side build illustrates well what's fun and exciting about cobbling. It's a quick way to realize an idea, and it's also low cost and often quite entertaining. Anyone can piece together random things into something new. While my particular example here did take a bit of custom work (casting in resin), a big part of it was assembly with random objects until the final look came about. Even the mold was repurposed from something else. And that's what cobbling a build is all about - taking what you have and making something new and fun.
Now, it's your turn. Raid the junk drawer, or disassemble an old printer for parts. And cobble a build together. Whether you start with an idea or let a part spark the idea, something creative is bound to happen.
Until next time.
JRC