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Sculpture: Metal, New Media, Fractal on Other.
When I was little, my father worked often; providing for three little kids and his wife. When he would return home from work/work trips often times he would bring me back feathers. Prepping myself to become the next Steve Irwin, I marveled at each feather and hoarded them in an expansive collection.
When my father would return late into the evening sometimes we would get to sit together in the family rocking chair. I would climb up on his lap and place my little hand inside his monstrous ones and examine them with great care. Thick callouses new and old, cuts and scrapes, I, with overwhelming concern, would interrogate him, “What happened? How did you get cut? Are you okay? Do you need a bandaid?”. He always reassured me that he was alright and that the callouses will come to aid him in his work. To this day my father still gifts me feathers along with precious metals from some of his job sites.
The first step was tricking my father into giving me his hand. . . Being his artsy fartsy daughter he never misses an opportunity to help me “test” different materials. A little alginate and an empty tube of oatmeal and my trick was complete. From that, a plaster mould to a high temp silicone one and 15lbs of molten bismuth later his hand was transformed.
When bismuth cools slowly it forms these wonderful psychedelic colored architectural ‘crystals’. What better metal to make the hand of a skilled carpenter out of.
Since my father held my hand all these years it was time I used mine to uplift his. So I cast my own fingers to support the weight of his hand.
Its only fitting I gift a feather back to my father but I had none of my own to give., only recent ones my father had gifted to me. So a mould and brass; brass he gifted me as well, cast of one of his feathers had to do.
My father and I have an inexplicable soulfully rich relationship and we often share philosophies, poetry, life stories and lessons. When we; more often I than him, find ourselves in a state of worry or complex contemplation we recite a verse from the Desiderata by Max Ehrmann back to one another as reminder to relax into the universes plan.
Etched into the back of his feather writes:
“ . . .You are a child of the universe,
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should. . .”
My love and gratitude for my father is a cosmic experience, one that fills your heart with just the thought of each others existence. This was a sculpture made from that very same cosmic love and gratitude, wherein its creation I would find myself holding this metal replica of my fathers hand and cry from that overwhelming joy and love.
I love you Padre. Thank you.