The Birth of Bailey the Barista

Earlier this month, I was given the task of creating a coffee robot for a very nice woman I'd met at a previous show.

I, of course, procrastinated until last week.

However--in spite of the eager assistance of my four-year-old apprentice--I was still able to unearth Bailey the Barista from the pile of metal in my basement, and just in time, too.

Her body was a given. It was the ever-important head I had to choose next.




The third head (a vintage brass mister) seemed to have the best proportion, while also complimenting the gold tones of her body. So next it was her feet . . .



A bot of her beauty obviously needed the height and grace of the brass candlestick.

A couple of arm choices . . . a copper measuring spoon or an antique gold drawer pull?

Eyes? (You know, they say eyes are the window to the soul. You may ask, do robots have souls? I choose to believe mine do.)


As the trail and error design process came to a close, the best part was upon me . . . using my drill press!

And, wah-la! Bailey the Barista emerged.