Blood And Stone

1 04 2012

Question: What do you get when you mix a sculptor, a writer, and tons of river stone?

Answer: Lots of blood, swearing, and a damn good time!

The Excursions

The last several times I’ve visited the Fungus, who I could refer to as Cooper since I’ve advertised him in the past, we’ve headed into the woods. There is no reason to hang out about the house all the time. Writing may technically be a sedentary activity but it does require your body gets out and gets some experience. (How else would you level?)

One Saturday afternoon I drove down to his place and over a delightful IPA, I believe, we started to discuss visual art forms as we frequently do when he sprung an idea on me. I’ve had the good fortunes to be invited by the Fungus to assist him in projects from time to time. And since they have never been anything but hugely engaging and loads of fun, I agreed.

So what was the project? Stone arches. In the woods.

Now some people might ask, why? If it’s in the woods who’s going to see it? What’s the point? How is that art? To those people I say,hush.

Does location matter when talking about art? Just because the probability of a large number of people walking past it everyday is low, does that mean it can’t be art? If it didn’t start life in a studio and end up in gallery once completed, does that disqualify something to be considered as art?

Or is there something deeper? Does it gain value being in an obscure place? Is it more meaningful to the person who stumbles upon it? Does the setting have some vital effect on the piece that would be lost if it were to be anywhere else? Would it stop being art because you put it into a gallery?

I can’t remember the last time I used this many questions marks.

There is a lot of reflecting that one needs to know when examining visual arts. Not only when trying to decipher what the artist wanted to say, but also what it means to you.

Incoming Photography

 

Behold. The first arch assembled, with the support still intact.

HIIIIYYA! Side shot. Of a different arch. You can tell because there are shadows in this shot. And I don’t know if it is obvious from this angle but its a tad shorter. Why did I give you a shot of another arch? Because I liked the side view on this one better. And I neglected to take a side shot of the first arch. This was our third.

And from there it became a painful exercise in Jenga tactics while trying to avoid smashing our fingers too badly. We began removing the supporting stones from within the arch. It was a slow process.

A shot from head on with the majority of the supporting stones removed. The ones that mattered the most anyways. (i.e. the one’s that were making contact with the arch itself.)

So of the three that we made, how many are now standing, resolute and powerful in the woods? None.

And that’s okay. We aren’t professional stone masons or architects. We’re learning as we go. And that is part of the fun. 

But you know what we did leave in the woods? Blood.

Lots of blood.

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