First Temple to the Mundane

This is the first of many ... as usual. I have worked through several designs and I think this is the material and size with which I will continue. They are modeled after portable temples I saw at the Asian Art Museum in Seattle. This particular temple is to my son's tooth, which was the first he was to loose ... just another small moment.

So I am lacking on words right now .... but three photo sets catches me up for May.

I think that productivity is not exactly my problem. What I need is concentrated time to synthesize the copious amounts of material I have at hand. TIME .... just me in the studio with my piles of photos and drawings and sculpture .... putting it all together so that maybe it could be shown to someone else ..... sigh.

I disturbed an ant nest the other day. There was a frenzy of activity to carry the pupating larva to safety. I admire these creatures. Their unquestioning call to communal duty; their unwavering acceptance of species instinct. Consciousness is a bitch.

Bug Houses

Bug Houses .... like bird houses, but of course for bugs. The intent is to have more (many more,) all brightly colored and cute (again like bird houses.) I will then engineer some shots with the inhabitants to go with the environmental photos (necessary to provide scale, which is lost in these examples.) This is an early sketch and I have little explanation for its existence.

Experiment

I have decided to use my blog .... I thought I might post a photo a day, but experience has taught me that is just setting myself up for failure. So the plan is:
A photo a week with text.
Week one - the first week of May - Barnacles

Barnacles

I first fell in love with barnacles on City Island in the Bronx. Traveling the bridge between the island and the city, a fellow biology student and I stopped at the side of the road and hopped the guard rail onto a tiny wedge of rocky beach. The sun was setting and it was cold ... it might have been fall ... It was a quite spot despite the proximity to the road and we sat silently. There was a chatter which could be mistaken for the lapping of Long Island Sound on the rocks, but that wasn't it. It was the barnacles ..... breathing. When the water brushed their tightly pinched carapaces, they opened with a click sending up a fan of gills ... taking a breath while they could ... waiting patiently for the next.