Clearing out the closet that got flooded has proved to be a pain and a pleasure. I found my old sculpture 101 textbook. My $105 dollar mistake! LOL! More than 20 years ago I took a sculpture class on a whim. It was at night and being a young pup and having no idea what kind of folks show up at night I thought nothing of it, just blasted forward like always.
My first night, I walked through the warehouse space, stepped over railroad ties covered in stainless steel ( a sculpture I would later find out) 12 Plexiglass isolation rooms with separate vacuum units housed granite, marble, and sandstone sculptures, each with a dusty sculptors attached by some high powered tool to their work. No on it seemed put hammer or rasp to stone anymore. I guessed.
I found a seat at one of the tables, next to a man who was sculpting clay: a horny toad sitting on a rock, and sat.
and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat, and sat. Horny toad sculptor finishes, takes an instamatic camera from his bag, snaps a dozen pictures and flips the sculpture upside down and smooshes the clay into the table, re-forms it into a sphere and begins a new sculpture, yep, you guessed it… another horny toad on a rock. I continued sitting for another 2 hours.
….end of first class. 3 productive hours.
I watched the the stone sculptors remove the vacuum attachments from their power tools, vacuum themselves clean, cover their lion head, madonna, and 2 earth globes, the rest were forgettable or formless…and quietly leave their booths. The silence without their vacuums running was uncomfortable and heavy. I smell the rock dust and what smells to me like BBQ mixing in with the wet earth smell of the clay being worked so close by. They shambled out, so did my toad sculptor, after carefully wrapping his clay work in plastic and carrying it gingerly out with him. A door to the back opened, I turn expectantly, I see welding canisters and torches through the door and more people leaving. They pay me no mind, not even looking up.
No instructor. No class.
My first night class. Messed up.
I leave too.
The next class, the same. Finally after about an hour in I ask Horny Toad Sculptor, what’s the deal. He is working on his 3rd Horny Toad ( that I know of) He gets some fear in his eyes and moves to another table. I briefly recognize this was the first time I spoke. My mouth all dry, made my voice crack a little but to move away, well, he was odd. No doubt.
Someone has GOT to be the instructor, right? So I set off looking. I look in every door. Finally, behind a poster of Farah Faucett ( yeah, you know the one) I see a door I haven’t tried. Its an office, I think. One corner all dark. I am getting an Apocalypse Now vibe so I turn to go, as I do, something moves behind a bank of file cabinets. Its a guy. He looks like this…
Now I’ve got nothing against this actor man, Timothy Spall in fact he is brilliant. I have loved, or appropriately hated every character he brings to the screen, but this all happened long before I watched Timothy Spall act circles around every actor he “movies” with so I was pretty creeped out by a guy who looked like this emerging from behind anything…and HE, instructor dude, had a knife, a short little dagger with a triangular blade. He wasn’t pointing it at me or anything obvious, just honing the blade with something metal in his hand. After a while, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a block of wood and slide the blade into it and set it the closed up dagger on a lacquered stand with 2 others in graduated sizes. All three looking like innocent blocks of wood with inlaid designs to broadcast, they in fact were not innocent. Then I noticed there were Samurai swords, knives and wood, saws, a drafting table and other assorted stuffs ALL OVER this room. Oh! He makes knives! Relief!
I introduced myself as a new student then and he said nothing. So I don’t waste time, I leave. As I am pulling the door closed behind me, he said, “ Campus Police sent you?”
“Nope” I said, trying to act cheerful…why I don’t know. Still Creeped out. Did I say Apocalypse Now already? Well it still felt dark like that so my cheerful voice rang fake and booming in the now bright outer space, but I could still see the darkness inside through a half foot crack in the closing door.
“Read the book” , squeezed through the opening. Almost too quietly to be heard.
Not really understanding what he was talking about, or if I had heard that correctly, still thinking about the Campus Police. I went back to my seat. Confused.
When I got there I sat for another 15 minutes running that strangeness through my mind. Then I remembered the book, the sculpture book. Oh, Right! LOL! Read that book. Chuckle. My mind already re-writing the scene so I don’t completely wig out. I would remember it as a big misunderstanding for the next 4 months.
I read the book, until the vacuums went silent. Then I boogied. Don’t want to be the last one out of there tonight was all I was thinking.
…continued.
