Boxes, Day 2

Couldn't SEND last night because the phone was out. So I sent before I started writing again, to keep things in sequence. The artist, Tom McCauley, showed on time, which is strange enough here, where the last hour or two, depending on your incoming vector, is at 55 MPH; but stranger still, anxious to get to work. I needed a helper, because it's really hard to screw boxes by yourself, the female box, the receiving end, needs holding (her little flap?) while the male end does his business. Still, we made great progress, maybe because it was easy to remember each other's name. Today I spent a lot of time hot-gluing boxes that form the ends of the lintels. These are more difficult than you might think because we try and keep the glued edge of the box in line with the glued edge of the stretcher boxes. One end is flap-folded, the other is glued, and the the seam must needs be horizontal. We did the smaller of the two parts of the installation first, finished easily, probably a third of the total boxes; started the larger segment, and got a goodly way along. Did I mention I'm sick of boxes? We'll have the entire box crew tomorrow and we should be able to finish. Fortunately I have weeks before I have to think about taking this show apart. I know more about boxes than I want to know, but still not enough, because tomorrow we're attempting things even the artist hasn't tried. Evil Kinival reaches of height and length. We want to haul a fifteen box lintel fifteen feet in air. I'm not quite sure this can be done, I'm willing to try, and boxes aren't that dangerous unless a corner catches you in the eye. We get a lot of cuticle cuts that we can tape easily so we don't have blood on the product. A installation of mine, I'd feature the blood. I'm way beyond exhausted, the other Tom quit just a bit early, thank god, because I was all in, done, toast, and I met D and A at the pub for a pint, after work. We talked about tomorrow briefly, what we needed to accomplish, then joked about things that didn't matter. There's a pattern here, that I seem to see emerging. Not only a sub-text, but a meta-text that over rides everything. I'll put it on my list, but there are some things I need to write first. Dog ran off, chasing someting, and the fox came forward and ate the rest of the dog's feed. Consider that moment. Do I have anything to say? I try to stay silent most of the time, because I don't add much. Fucking raw, from screwing boxes. Interleave, interleave, my little darling. The fox came over the ridge.