Still life

The infinite lawn 

Set of nine cast polyeurethane street grates, with inlaid photographs and text (my own). 1996

 

Walking the line between lost and found, as the shaper and the shaped.  More than half way from

beginning to end. 

Nothing’s like the destination.  Conversations shift to that imaginary present with even-handed shades of grey.

 

While not very flashy, this parable of the meadows with fuzzy leaves and neat corners sounds vaguely familiar.  Bouncing along the bottom, there’s no real substitute for measuring devices. 

The littlest acres are wrought at the fingertips.

 

Meanwhile, waiting in the wings (and trimmed with red ribbons), compromise stumbles, its name synonymous with educated guesses and shreds of evidence. 

Negotiating punctuates the perfect fit every day of the year, in and out.

 

The bottom line is tin cans and a string, nothing, and everything, wrestling, gracefully.  There are things we see again and again.  Double vision is where the pictures are secondary and all in a day’s work.

 

Spreading a loose, wide mesh of fine tuning, vividly rendered with few frills or custom labels, in an appropriate thickness, leaving nothing behind but the notion of easy solutions.

 

Drawing a line with the familiar name paradise, somebody mentioned a spectacular view. 

Amid images of perfect pitch, today he discovered something more than windmills – in miniature divisions.

 

In a tight, neglected corner, attention to detail is conditional with back-to-back weeds and crepe myrtle shrubs.  Getting the hang of how to grow vegetables is guaranteed, even in soil that gets partial sun.

 

Navigating the serene ways of waterfalls as detailed as the zigzagging of fireflies, present imperfect, slow motion terrain of common machines, telling us more than we ever wanted to know, without paper.

 

Broth is the crux of all cooking – the foundation of soups and sauces.  Necessary little vowels, good for what ails you.  Simmering below the surface among each sound of speech, unequal to narration but not retroactive.

 

It started at the nose with symmetry and proportion in abundance with the world on a brawny string, the predictable and the haphazard.

 

Objects are slippery anywhere your mind wanders over surface texture and wallows there with chalk and a can of glazing compound.

 

Because of proof that sound and light don’t stick to squares, green fields shimmer wide open,  sieve-like, from big to small, in our daily landscaping.  The simplest sites punctuated by crosswords.

 

Mix and match borders function as closures that work not simply but just because stones, mortar, and a version of unraveling do, too.  For the regularly scheduled curiosity, the settings change with little planning.

Abacus

Etched glass test tubes, steel rod, 1996

 

(First row)                                      

The shape is all

in the curve

the pattern

amid

spectacular scenery

And

theoretical charts.

Eye-catching emblems

stretch

in different ways

coloring

the invisible world

not motivated

by greed or whimsy,

playing pretend.

If you really want

something

unorthodox,

lotteries are filled

with unexpected delicacies.

Wrinkles

are a specialty,

seemingly everywhere

effortlessly

for scripting

limited editions.

We go

out of our way

to stash

the tile a grout,

face – to – face

with

perpetual earthquakes

and

recurring adolescence.

No doubts rumble

in the world

we imagine,

that

peak performance

in which

the chronicle

is

a particular

grounded place.

 

(Second row)

 

Though in fits,

starts,

and big

-really big-

portions,

embryos

are in sync

when it counts,

paddling

from white-on-white

to color.

Things don’t always

go as planned

from pond to lake

teeming

for something

beyond

the usual glibness.

Predictions

go awry

and the best

is saved for last.

You thought you knew

that

safety in numbers

depends on a

pre-existing condition,

an intoxicating

childhood memory

of public spectacle

where the pictures

were only spare time

but not useless.

 

       The gorilla

Cast polyurethane, rope, 1996

Nightlight

Mixed media, 1996

 

Text:  One for the money, two for the show, three to get ready, four to go.

   Open for evidence

   Custom neon, 2005

            Some circling

Glass shelving, seeds, iron cart, 1997

Journeys occur at random, from right to left.

 

Country wears on the elbows even.

 

A foundation is also background counterclockwise.

 

Attitude comes to rest with inclination when signed.

 

Drama is modified by the performance.

 

The heart is modified by the letter ‘s’, for sorry, for regret.

 

Consuming preceeds usefulness.

 

Both index fingers pointing to the forehead, describe continuously, alternating in wonder.

  Natural Science

 Gouache on leaves, 2 versions, 1997, 2001

      Vaucanson's Duck

 Newsprint on board, 1996

          Untitled

 Etched glass, soap, lab equipment, 1997

     Street sign

Custom neon, 2004

           Spell

Saltwater aquarium, etched text, 1997

  

This is the spell of lingering,

Knowing when you can go with no apologies,

be it fair use or fair game

with odds.

This removal, so far, is a pilgrimage

without end.

Hearing voices won’t do a thing for you.

But you can feel the soundness,

the backwater ledges,

and the pace of betrayal.

          Fresh water

   Etched glass, postcards, towels, 1997

   Text:  Hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil

      Some kind of measure

 Etched glass, antique postcards, dried peas, 1997

     Breathing

Etched glasses & aquariums, antique postcards, 1997