Lines

This delicate composition lasted almost three years before it was blown down in a wind storm. While it stood, it was fascinating to watch people approach it. Almost everyone walked very slowly and held their hand out in front of them and very gently touched it. There was a peacefulness about it.

Gratitude and bright light changes everything. It truly is a pleasure to mow that lawn and deal with it all.

Everything falls. This piece was about the fragile nature of reality, but taught me exactly what it should have over the years of its falling apart. The fragile beauty of these lines, like everything, is one day going to be a memory, and after that, gone completely.

The bright full moon in this picture completes the scene. The field behind has been harvested, and I cab tell it was soy beans that year. The harvest for soy beans around here is very late in the Fall. I’m guessing this would have been October.

It was a Father’s Day that my daughters and I began rebuilding the piece after the fall. It was fun and meaningful in just the right way.

 

Here you can see that the wind broke the stone itself; the joints were reinforced with steel pins.

It was a sad day to find it like this, but I knew it would happen someday. I think making perishable work for others would bother me, but it doesn’t bother me at all to make short-lived work for myself.

Sixteen feet of fragile stone had an almost mythical presence. I miss this piece.

Photographed at dusk, the silhouette seems to blend in with the landscape.

Although it wasn’t quite finished here (the blown glass tops are not yet installed) the light it catches when the light is just right shows very nicely. This took several weeks to build, as the pieces were assembled one at a time, and the mortar between each piece had to fully cure before the next piece could go on.