Hello Dolly

There is another articulation, counter-intuitive, but there. One thinks of legs as coming straight out of the body, but if you swing each leg around, so that it comes out the opposite side of the hub, presto. Moving the other piano on stage for tuning, we noticed the configuration of it's dolly, looked at each other with a head-slap, -but of course, Watson!- and five minutes later we had the second dolly contorted into position. It will work and we are fools, I apologize to those I damned to hell, their nostrils clogged with radioactive dust, I was too quick to judge, may the curse I swore against their children unto the 7th generation be lifted. An easier day and welcomed. Nick Gampp, The Gamppster, brought his Art History classes over to the museum today and he got there early; as a co-conspirator on the Wrack Show, having seen his name in print, wanted to know the plan. We walked the gallery together, exchanging ideas, it was quickly apparent that we would have fun with this installation. Nick is a pack-rat, has always viewed the debris fields as a kind of shopping mall, a collage artist of great refinement and a wonderful abstract painter, he adds at least one more dimension to our thinking here. Welcome aboard. Sara comes in because we're raucous, wondering what's up, starts laughing at the ideas spilling out. There's a ledge, outside the 2nd story gallery we'll be using, that is actually in the downstairs gallery, and Nick wants to line it with old tires (common wrack) and use bleach bottles (common wrack) suspended on monofilament (common wrack) to spell out the name of the show. We hadn't thought of that. And he has some windows, sans glass, that will be perfect for the windows we need. It's coming together. It might be out of control. For the first time this week D and I take a full lunch break at the pub and the other genius local artist teacher guy is there, and he too wonders what's up, what he can do, how to be involved. I ensure him a pedestal, a space, what I think now should be one of the 'windowed corners' we're imagining as adjacent houses to the house we'll be suggesting. Sounds vague even to me, but something 'site specific' has to be vague or it becomes predictable. Lane wants some parameters and we can supply them. He wants to fill a space after we define it, fair enough. We'll give him a space, the northeast corner. Today, I saw these two spaces, northeast and northwest corners, that I had imagined as walled-off 'other houses' that we were looking into from the outside, a kind of peeping Tom thing, as kind of sexy. I'll mention that to Lane. I accept the role of lead conspirator (Sara asked me to write the artist's statement) but only in so far as it allows the installation: if it fails it is my failure, if it succeeds it's a group success. I'm comfortable with that. The last couple of days, I realized my ego isn't on the line: I write, my readers judge me, I care about that, but in my professional job, I'm a janitor, I unclog toilets, I mop, who expects much from him? The kicker, of course, it that this is going to be a great show. I love making people wrap their brains around that. The janitor did what? I want a larger space to fill. The economy? Give me a big stick and free-reign. If I had a plunger large enough, I could fix this. Don't get me started on Palin.