Joy, Impermanence, And The Husk
A computer is a fine and versatile tool. But the process of creating with one is too often restricted to menus, frames, filters, and bezier points.
"I suppose it is tempting, if the only tool you have is a hammer, to treat everything as if it were a nail.”
- Abraham Maslow
- Abraham Maslow
I made the Lost In Space robot out of foam core, carpet runner, pipe insulation, and sculpted foam insulation. No one provided instructions; I figured it out. That was a joyful process.
My R2-D2 is an homage to the beloved droid, but not a slavish copy. I stuffed the dome and torso with interesting-looking electronic junk I rescued from the trash at the TV station where I was working.
The shuttle astronaut has a foam core structure, covered in paper mache’ and fabric. I sculpted the boots and helmet out of blue foam insulation. It was fun to figure out what worked, and what didn’t… and a lot of it didn’t.
The abstract sculpture evolved from a thought that crossed my mind on the drive home from work. It had a video display that showed my animation of its “journey” through different periods in history. It never left the garage; my late wife tolerated a house full of sculptures, but drew the line with this one.
A few years ago, I visited the studio of an Alaskan totem sculptor who had died the previous year. I love his statement, posted at the entrance: “The process- the smell of the wood, the feel of the tools in my hands… that, for me, was everything. What you are about to see is merely the husk.”
When I sold my house, I gave them all away.
They’re not stored on a hard drive, or in the cloud.
There are no “backups.”
Creating them, for me, was everything. What you’re seeing here is merely the husk.