02F-18

Follow or Quit

The votes are in and the public agrees. 02F-17 was one of the special ones. I was too tired to really notice at the time, but the more I look at it the better I like it.

This brings up a problem that's consistent but fortunately infrequent. What's next? The next one is going to be a let-down, guaranteed. I let the normal weekend go by, pleading fatigue.

Push versus inertia. Usually there's enough push to get me out onto the beach, but inertial increases after a really good sculpture. Or perhaps the push decreases, as the desire to scratch goes away after you've done a good job scratching.

Progress is like foothills. You want to climb the tall ones but they're beyond the short ones so you have to climb them first. The top of a foothill might seem really nice, but out there somewhere is the next really good sculpture and I'll never make it by sitting up here next to the last one.

Load the trailer, Larry. Put some water in the fridge. Make sure you have some charged battery packs for the camcorder and organize some portable food. Instead of thinking about it, get it done.

Build number: 02F-18 (lifetime start #248) (ICF)
Title: "High-motility Gamete Insertion Device"
Date: September 4 (Wednesday)
Location: Venice Breakwater, on the flat
Start: 0800; construction time 9 hours
Height: 4.2 feet (sailcloth form)
Base: 1.75 feet diameter
Assistant: none
Photo 35mm: approx 15 exp TMX135 w/LX and 28-135 zoom
Photo 6X7: none
Photo volunteer: Rich and Larry
Video motion: walkaround, detail tracking, atmosphere, LD process w/XL1 (11 min)
Video still: verticals of whole sculpture
Video volunteer: Larry (safety and completion)
New Equipment: none

1. Preparation

Before the trailer can be loaded, however, there's a matter of sand. It won't be available when I need it, so I need to time-shift about half a ton. This is made more palatable by putting a few tools in the cart before I walk away. Mussel shells are all well and good, but I have better.

Walking is simple. Less hassle with traffic and my route can be right on the beach. Let the cars fight for space while I attract all kinds of attention with my big-wheeled carrier.

Placement is a problem. Last night's high tide swept the area clean, making a nice place to put tomorrow's sculpture. The one problem with this plan is that tonight's tide will be higher. I use a tarp for my sand cache, and surround it with six or seven buckets full of sand. The buckets hold the tarp's edges up so water will flow around; at least this has worked in the past.

The sand is good. Four buckets at a time I haul it up the beach and dump it onto the tarp-substitute that I swiped from Jason's birthday party: a cheap vinyl tablecloth. My tarp was stolen the last time I did this, so I'm trying something less attractive. The biggest problem with the whole process is dumping the buckets. They're heavy. I need to make the next cart so that it will haul sand without buckets. I'll just tip it up to dump.

When the process is nearly complete, Larry shows up. He's moving to Los Angeles so that he can do sculpture all year round. There's nothing like sitting in your apartment in the middle of a blizzard and then receiving, by Email, a report of a sculpture someone else made that day while being worried about sunburn.

"I've decided to try a sculpture tomorrow, or at least get ready for it."
"OK. The tide will hit about here tonight. Dig all you want. I'm going free-piling." He sets up the other piece of plastic and goes to work.

I find a spot and dig a hole. Water is a long time coming, forcing me to start the hole with the shovel. I could move farther down but I'm going to be short of time anyway as the tide rises. The sculpture is a monolith that develops some interesting spaces and undulations. The shapes are more rounded, and flow into the sculpture's interior. It has nice details.

The ocean comes up and fills the borrow pit. I quit working and a few minutes later the sculpture comes apart. By this time Larry's borrow pit is full and he's hauled about all the sand he'll get today. I rinse off my sandy hands and tools and walk up to the caches.

Three of my buckets have been relocated. Too tired to say much about unilateral appropriation of equipment, I just reorganize my cache as best I can and hope as I walk north with the cart bobbing along behind.

"Did you build that?"
"Yes."
"Do you sell them?"
"I would if someone asked."
"I need it for my old dog. He's too old to walk."

The sparkling water and warm sun add up to an invitation I can no longer refuse. I park the cart and walk in to catch a few waves. There's nothing like swimming to loosen up tight muscles.

2. Variation


Written September 5 (unfinished)