A red kite in gliding pose, 10.2 in from tip to tip, standing on the machine that beats its wings. 7 printed panels make the bird; the other 31 parts make the wingbeat.
From above, almost all of it is bird: swept wings, slotted tips, the deep forked tail that names a kite in the air. Only the gear box shows through.
Wingtip to wingtip, 10.2 in.
From above it is a bird. Swept wings, slotted tips, a forked tail — and almost none of the machine showing.
Come down to the desk and the other half arrives: the kite is standing on a gear box.
Head on, the machine is the whole picture: 8 thin links fanning up from two gears into the underside of the wings.
Fade the panels and nothing is hidden. 8 links, 8 staples, two gears, one shaft, and no cover over any of it.
44 teeth on each gear, meshed one to one — so the cranks turn opposite ways and the wings mirror.
Set down, the whole thing takes 2.9 × 2.3 in of desk and stands 7.0 in tall.
Head on, the drive reads in one go. Two gears stand over the box with a crank on each, and from the cranks four links a side fan up to the wings, each one ending in a staple pinned to a panel. Turn the handle at the back of the base and the whole fan swings. There is no shell anywhere on it, so the machine has to be the ornament as well.
The kite is 7 printed pieces: a body, and three a side. The seams run across the wing where a kite's own feather groups divide, so the joins read as plumage rather than as parts — and the tip panel, the one carrying the slotted primaries, is the piece that does it.
Two colours, and they divide the object exactly: cocoa for the bird, black for everything that moves it.
Sizes and counts measured on the assembly itself; weight and time on the printer come from the slicer.