Intuitively developed art that follows its own internal logic free of other rules.

Sunday, February 19, 2012

Making the FEMA Boxcar

FEMA Boxcar, exhibited as Boxcar Named Desire in Memory Play @
Herberger Theater Gallery


BOXCARS is another of those fables at our sister state we'd rather not believe. They have attracted demythologists so we don't plan to. But still the excess populations threaten our superiors saving the earth. So something must be done. Plans are made for the 90% in this. But no matter. This boxcar was formed around concrete blocks. I don't know what I was thinking. After making at the studio it went by truck to its finish near the bisque. It was two cement blocks long end to end, plus the weight of the clay. I guess it got rubbed with iron oxides then textured with whatever was at hand, which you can see traces of on the legs. Parts were waxed first for accent. I remember the whole back fell in which had to be propped up and repaired. There are sliding doors on the sides, or marks where sliding doors and windows used to be. Everybody knows the Gundersons are near hermetically sealed. The whole thing looks grumpy. Part animal, part train, part derelict, part wreck. It only adds to the effect that after final firing part of one side and a leg detached. Kind of like my old bone-broke neighbor. It came back in these pieces but a team assembled with clamps and gorilla glue over several days and put Humpty back.This defect, because I thought it one, bothered me until I saw there is a whole genre of broken glue backs at the Ceramics Research Center, to show the patchwork I guess, a Le Corbusier of pots. This reassures me so much me that one day I'm going to glue Lamb, which has not come apart, but has long sharp cracks down its sides and back from a refiring. Reconstitute, that's the going parlance. We need to get some better pics of this Box-up, but till then reference the pic at Current Exhibitions and a close up and personal report of sightings at Some Events on the Jersey Turnpike.


In some sections of our downtown the falun gong  meet surreptitiously and sing songs like this:

 It’s like I’m a midwife and I’m
 catching the heads as they’re falling,
Goin to the boxcar and I'm
welding my prison shackles,
Shackled in a boxcar and its 
 higher than nor-r-rmal,
 three tier boxcars...
torture transporters.

Shackled in a boxcar And I’m startin 
to get wor-r-r-ied...
 Chinese prisoner boxcars
Fitted with
 a guil-lo-tine,
waiting for martial law that 
makes me want to be a Christian,
 get a seat in the boxcar
of the 
 new world or-or-or-der.
 Experience firsthand
From an unpublished document: The Mythical Horrors of Carol Novak

Is it too good to be true that more of this appears at Thee Mystical Mirror Carole Novalis. Should not an omnibus come out ensuing?

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