public sculpture

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“I don’t think art can stand up to nature.”

-Walter De Maria

My assistant Tulip and I went to check on the Museum of Natural Selection and test out the new waders yesterday.
Everything went well except that the Museum was gone.
My first instinct was to blame The Man… Jay-Z and Beyoncé must have made a call to the Parks Department, and the suits had hauled it off to an underground storage facility. But after some serious wading in the post-storm flood waters we found a piece of the wreckage, 40 yards downstream. So this Biblical destruction was probably wrought by certified teenage art critics, with too much time on their hands during Holy Week.
In a way this makes me feel better, knowing that the plastic lobster I pulled out of the stream has been returned to the wild, rather than living out its near-eternal plastic life in a landfill or art gallery. Does that make me insufficiently environmental? It’s a question I’ll ponder on Saturday as I wade in the waters, looking for old and new friends.

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There’s a tiny wilderness near my house—a remnant edge habitat that grows trees and weeds and wild animals and rusted bike frames and empty bottles.

tiny wilderness

I don’t put the empties here, but I don’t pick them up, either. It’s nice to just observe them in their natural element.

high life at night


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